I didn't expect to feel this way. I only went to one game. I only watched a handful on TV. Last night, I checked the updating box score online and then finally in the seventh inning turned on the radio and curled up on the kitchen floor.
As I listened to the Nationals in game 5 of this wild series, I flashed back to my childhood. I missed Denny Matthews and Paul Splitorff, Kansas City Royals announcers, even as I pictured the game currently in progress. I missed my transistor radio too.
I could tell it was nuts at the stadium, but my heart remained relatively calm. I checked my pulse even as the Cardinals made their surprising ninth-inning comeback. My pulse remained relatively normal. I still believed. These Nats had come back before. They would do it again. This was the year.
Then it was over.
I turned off the radio and went to bed. Disappointed that I didn't get to bust out the door and join DC for some cheering in the streets, I fell asleep quickly. I thought when I woke up it might be different.
I turned to the sports page and it described the disappointment and shock so well. I turned to Facebook and read the alternating reports of jubilation from the many Missouri pals and sadness from the DC area. I celebrated most of the season with the Internet. I read Washington Post stories all year and excitedly followed this young Nats team, yet today the Internet's account feels inadequate.
Even my oatmeal lacks a certain something this morning.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
12/11/11- Glowing and waiting
It's been a day of waiting. I woke up early and wandered the mean street of Waitomo, then we loitered until an i-Site opened up so we could book a Waitomo cave "tubing" ticket and loiter some more. After all our waiting we were rewarded with a glow worm* tour of the caves. It was a walk, crawl, slide through a cave, about 1.5 km of cave. The glow worms have a tail light that shines during their pupae stage. The caves had been compared to the night sky and the glow worms stars, but I thought they looked more like a city at night when a plane is landing. The lights tended to extend more like a peninsula and less like the cosmos.
We wore wetsuits in the caves. I can only imagine what discovering those caves must have been like, the glow, the strands (like a spider's web) hanging from the ceiling. Our moment of faux-discovery was a waterfall. We had to earn it by wading through waist deep water and then crawling through a space that would have scared me heaps if I'd come across it on my own. We emerged under a seven meter falls and it was pretty neat. From there it was more glowing and more tubing, not to mention a slide and a backwards hop onto our tube. All in all kind of fun.
The drive to the airport, complete with lap sandwiches, lead us to a delayed flight that finally got us to the South Island. The window seat was glorious. The South Island mountains had snow on top. The scenery was gorgeous- LOTR gorgeous. I'm excited again. To top it off, our hostel for the night is a converted jailhouse and they've tried to stick with the theme. I swear the lights clanked off. We're in a cell in bunk beds. The windows are barred and there are some serious creaking noises. I look forward to seeing daylight. A nice pick by C.
*The worms are insects, so not worms at all.
We wore wetsuits in the caves. I can only imagine what discovering those caves must have been like, the glow, the strands (like a spider's web) hanging from the ceiling. Our moment of faux-discovery was a waterfall. We had to earn it by wading through waist deep water and then crawling through a space that would have scared me heaps if I'd come across it on my own. We emerged under a seven meter falls and it was pretty neat. From there it was more glowing and more tubing, not to mention a slide and a backwards hop onto our tube. All in all kind of fun.
The drive to the airport, complete with lap sandwiches, lead us to a delayed flight that finally got us to the South Island. The window seat was glorious. The South Island mountains had snow on top. The scenery was gorgeous- LOTR gorgeous. I'm excited again. To top it off, our hostel for the night is a converted jailhouse and they've tried to stick with the theme. I swear the lights clanked off. We're in a cell in bunk beds. The windows are barred and there are some serious creaking noises. I look forward to seeing daylight. A nice pick by C.
*The worms are insects, so not worms at all.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
12/10/11- Jumping out of the sky
It's hard to know where to start this day. Yes, it was great to wake up in our free campsite to the sounds of goats, stream, and NZ yokels. There was a light mist accompanying breakfast, but we got ready to go and headed to Taupo. We arrived to find the trappings of a race. It wouldn't be until after second breakfast at Indulgence (bacon and egg sandwich and an iced coffee- oh look iced coffee here comes with ice cream. Score.) that we'd discover the race was the Taupo half-Ironman. I watched a bit of the bike to run transition and decided that I need to enter a tri. 2012 goal? Straight from NZ.
All morning we kicked around the idea of skydiving, but it was overcast and I was scared, so we put it off. We hiked out to Huku Falls (a little over 5k) and had the good fortune to see three kayaks run the falls. We had wandered through the park which included a "confidence course" and a zipline (6 inches off the ground under our weight.) on the way out to the falls. On the way back, we jumped into the Waikato River. It was fed in one place by a geothermal stream, but it was still cold and refreshing at our chosen plunge point. C was shocked by the temperature, having expected the spring to warm the water considerably. From there we went to sit in the geo-thermal stream-feed. The sun had started shining, but only winter could have made the stream a place to sit comfortably. The water was H-O-T, HOT! We dipped our toes and sat for a bit where river and stream met, before heading on to lunch.
Taupo was an athletic sort of place, on a lake and river and particularly today holding a triathlon. I liked it. I had a mexican stack (pie-like enchilada) and a Phoenix Lemon and Lime and Bitters for lunch at Replete. I'd say I'm three for three on soda that are ok, but that I don't really need again. With the sun out and our bellies full, we decided to see Taupo from the sky, or at least check out the skydiving options.
We drove out to the airport, found the very yellow Taupo tandem skydive business and steeled ourselves. TTS had a million jump options, 12k feet or 15k feet, with a photographer or a videographer, silver, platinum, gold options all to choose from. C and I decided that our budget could and should only handle the most basic package. We got a long chat from a worker on the experience chose our package and proceeded to wait another 30 minutes to even start to get going.
I was terribly nervous on the way in and sitting on the couch. I was nervous waiting, and then I put on my flight suit. The nerves didn't go away, but they were suddenly more manageable. Cue the safety video and harness set up before heading out for more waiting. Now we could see others floating down from the sky. I met a nice German named Markus on a 3.5?! month trip. More waiting and then Albert appeared and introduced himself.
Albert was nice enough, but I couldn't help noticing his crazy eyes. He had over 4,000 jumps, probably more and he seemed a bit disappointed that I wasn't going to pony up for the 15k jump. He seemed far more possessive than the other jump masters, but what the hey.
We boarded the plane, sitting close between the legs of our tandem master. They closed the gate, passed the camera and the plane started to take off. We were facing backwards and I had another jolt of nerves that I was able to clam. Albert asked if I liked flying. I answered yes and I thought about all those commercial flights where my nose was pressed against the glass taking in the city. I tried to do the same as the little prop plane climbed and climbed above Taupo, but my palms were sweating. My heart and breathing seemed ok. The scenery was brilliant, mountains, cityscape, the giant lake. On we climbed, circling up to our height. I was calmer than I'd been in the waiting room, but still had to push down thoughts of, "What the hell did I just sign on for?"
Albert put me on his lap and tightened us in together. The altitude got me a bit at around 11k feet. Albert's conversation attempts were politely answered and I was forcing a smile. C seemed to be ignoring my looks, but she did glance back a few times and we shared nervous smiles. At 12k feet, they opened the door. One cameraman stood outside the plane, wind and sky were rushing by. My thoughts shifted again as I tried to stifle a "You've got to be kidding me!"
Three jumpers and two cameramen were away and my tandem and I shifted closer to the open door. C had jumped, but I don't recall seeing her go. As we moved toward the door, my legs filled with lead. I could feel Albert straining against my weight to get us seated with our feet out in the sky. I couldn't move my legs, but Albert got us out the door. We leaned back to have our photo taken. I smiled brightly and then we were off tumbling- plane and cloud and sky and free fall.
It was strangely calming for a 200 km/h fall. I found a comfort level quickly. We plunged. I released my hands and got in a few gyrations, like the dancing catfish, and then plunged on trying to take it in. We fell through a cloud. Oh my god, a cloud! I had time to register the cloud, consider that it felt colder in there and wonder when I'd be able to see again. Still falling- unbelievable!
And then the parachute pull. Violently, I was jerked vertically with my feet toward the ground. We spun quickly in circles; it was frightening again, but then we settled into a graceful float. I had to hold the controls for a moment and I didn't have full function, in fact in writing this I get nervous thinking about it. We continued to float lower and lower. I tried to soak up the sights. It was a postcard in every direction. We landed with a thud. I reluctantly tried to stand up on the rocky landing patch.
Triumph! TTS tried to sell us a DVD afterwards, but we resisted the cheesy pitch. I did buy a photo of my exit from the plane (which immediately was shared on Facebook with pride), but decided that my memory would serve me best on this adventure.
From there we drove excitedly to Waitomo. I couldn't drive because I was still so pumped up. C drove us to a nice hostel Kiwi Paka with a bar down the hill called Curly's. We had dinner there. I had a Sheperd's Pie and a Steighton Old Dark (thumps up) and a Waikato Draught (so-so). The highlight though was sharing a table with a couple of Kiwis. They were very nice and we traded stories, quite a few about animals and roadkill. I was quite excited to discover that one of the women was Maori. I didn't catch her name, but she was lovely and it was pleasing to meet a Maori after hearing quite a lot about the indigenous people of New Zealand. Bed has come late tonight and I think I may be in a bit of trouble since retelling my day has give me another kick of energy.
All morning we kicked around the idea of skydiving, but it was overcast and I was scared, so we put it off. We hiked out to Huku Falls (a little over 5k) and had the good fortune to see three kayaks run the falls. We had wandered through the park which included a "confidence course" and a zipline (6 inches off the ground under our weight.) on the way out to the falls. On the way back, we jumped into the Waikato River. It was fed in one place by a geothermal stream, but it was still cold and refreshing at our chosen plunge point. C was shocked by the temperature, having expected the spring to warm the water considerably. From there we went to sit in the geo-thermal stream-feed. The sun had started shining, but only winter could have made the stream a place to sit comfortably. The water was H-O-T, HOT! We dipped our toes and sat for a bit where river and stream met, before heading on to lunch.
Taupo was an athletic sort of place, on a lake and river and particularly today holding a triathlon. I liked it. I had a mexican stack (pie-like enchilada) and a Phoenix Lemon and Lime and Bitters for lunch at Replete. I'd say I'm three for three on soda that are ok, but that I don't really need again. With the sun out and our bellies full, we decided to see Taupo from the sky, or at least check out the skydiving options.
We drove out to the airport, found the very yellow Taupo tandem skydive business and steeled ourselves. TTS had a million jump options, 12k feet or 15k feet, with a photographer or a videographer, silver, platinum, gold options all to choose from. C and I decided that our budget could and should only handle the most basic package. We got a long chat from a worker on the experience chose our package and proceeded to wait another 30 minutes to even start to get going.
I was terribly nervous on the way in and sitting on the couch. I was nervous waiting, and then I put on my flight suit. The nerves didn't go away, but they were suddenly more manageable. Cue the safety video and harness set up before heading out for more waiting. Now we could see others floating down from the sky. I met a nice German named Markus on a 3.5?! month trip. More waiting and then Albert appeared and introduced himself.
Albert was nice enough, but I couldn't help noticing his crazy eyes. He had over 4,000 jumps, probably more and he seemed a bit disappointed that I wasn't going to pony up for the 15k jump. He seemed far more possessive than the other jump masters, but what the hey.
We boarded the plane, sitting close between the legs of our tandem master. They closed the gate, passed the camera and the plane started to take off. We were facing backwards and I had another jolt of nerves that I was able to clam. Albert asked if I liked flying. I answered yes and I thought about all those commercial flights where my nose was pressed against the glass taking in the city. I tried to do the same as the little prop plane climbed and climbed above Taupo, but my palms were sweating. My heart and breathing seemed ok. The scenery was brilliant, mountains, cityscape, the giant lake. On we climbed, circling up to our height. I was calmer than I'd been in the waiting room, but still had to push down thoughts of, "What the hell did I just sign on for?"
Albert put me on his lap and tightened us in together. The altitude got me a bit at around 11k feet. Albert's conversation attempts were politely answered and I was forcing a smile. C seemed to be ignoring my looks, but she did glance back a few times and we shared nervous smiles. At 12k feet, they opened the door. One cameraman stood outside the plane, wind and sky were rushing by. My thoughts shifted again as I tried to stifle a "You've got to be kidding me!"
Three jumpers and two cameramen were away and my tandem and I shifted closer to the open door. C had jumped, but I don't recall seeing her go. As we moved toward the door, my legs filled with lead. I could feel Albert straining against my weight to get us seated with our feet out in the sky. I couldn't move my legs, but Albert got us out the door. We leaned back to have our photo taken. I smiled brightly and then we were off tumbling- plane and cloud and sky and free fall.
It was strangely calming for a 200 km/h fall. I found a comfort level quickly. We plunged. I released my hands and got in a few gyrations, like the dancing catfish, and then plunged on trying to take it in. We fell through a cloud. Oh my god, a cloud! I had time to register the cloud, consider that it felt colder in there and wonder when I'd be able to see again. Still falling- unbelievable!
And then the parachute pull. Violently, I was jerked vertically with my feet toward the ground. We spun quickly in circles; it was frightening again, but then we settled into a graceful float. I had to hold the controls for a moment and I didn't have full function, in fact in writing this I get nervous thinking about it. We continued to float lower and lower. I tried to soak up the sights. It was a postcard in every direction. We landed with a thud. I reluctantly tried to stand up on the rocky landing patch.
Triumph! TTS tried to sell us a DVD afterwards, but we resisted the cheesy pitch. I did buy a photo of my exit from the plane (which immediately was shared on Facebook with pride), but decided that my memory would serve me best on this adventure.
From there we drove excitedly to Waitomo. I couldn't drive because I was still so pumped up. C drove us to a nice hostel Kiwi Paka with a bar down the hill called Curly's. We had dinner there. I had a Sheperd's Pie and a Steighton Old Dark (thumps up) and a Waikato Draught (so-so). The highlight though was sharing a table with a couple of Kiwis. They were very nice and we traded stories, quite a few about animals and roadkill. I was quite excited to discover that one of the women was Maori. I didn't catch her name, but she was lovely and it was pleasing to meet a Maori after hearing quite a lot about the indigenous people of New Zealand. Bed has come late tonight and I think I may be in a bit of trouble since retelling my day has give me another kick of energy.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
12/9/11- Art Deco style
Today is a new day and I'm going to wipe yesterday's frustration away. Little orphan Annie did say the sun would be out today, or was it tomorrow? Either way I'm going to take some deep breaths and make today a good one.
The campground echoes with CCR and Lynard Skynard? Am I home? It's 20:30 in December and children at one end of the grounds are kicking a soccer ball while children at the other are playing cricket. Oh, I'm in New Zealand. This FREE DOC campground is almost all I could dream of. It's on a river in the shadows of rolling green hills; sheep are bleating when the music is off.
We drove to Napier this morning and arrived in the art deco capital of the world. I had expected something quainter and more clearly demarcated between art deco and other styles. We wandered a bit and found lunch. I had fancy nachos and Frank's Pink grapefruit soda. We then hit the Internet. It wasn't that busy. We wandered some more. I found opossum world and discovered what I'd been seeing splattered on so many of the winding roads. Speaking of roads, I discovered today that right-of-way is about turning vehicles today. (As I retype this, I now have no idea what this means. It might mean that turning vehicles get to go first?)
We took an art deco walking tour in Napier. Our volunteer guide had some interesting asides and showed us numerous art deco and Spanish mission buildings. The most interesting tidbit from the tour was actually about the earthquake that started it all for Napier. It moved the ground up two meters, filled in swamp land and allowed Napier to expand.
We left town, stocked up for a roughing-it style dinner at a roadside fruit stand with cheese, golden kiwis, and some bread, and then made our way to this little piece of paradise (now with groovin' soundtrack- either me singing songs about tiny towels or some Maori radio. I'm not sure which.)
The campground echoes with CCR and Lynard Skynard? Am I home? It's 20:30 in December and children at one end of the grounds are kicking a soccer ball while children at the other are playing cricket. Oh, I'm in New Zealand. This FREE DOC campground is almost all I could dream of. It's on a river in the shadows of rolling green hills; sheep are bleating when the music is off.
We drove to Napier this morning and arrived in the art deco capital of the world. I had expected something quainter and more clearly demarcated between art deco and other styles. We wandered a bit and found lunch. I had fancy nachos and Frank's Pink grapefruit soda. We then hit the Internet. It wasn't that busy. We wandered some more. I found opossum world and discovered what I'd been seeing splattered on so many of the winding roads. Speaking of roads, I discovered today that right-of-way is about turning vehicles today. (As I retype this, I now have no idea what this means. It might mean that turning vehicles get to go first?)
We took an art deco walking tour in Napier. Our volunteer guide had some interesting asides and showed us numerous art deco and Spanish mission buildings. The most interesting tidbit from the tour was actually about the earthquake that started it all for Napier. It moved the ground up two meters, filled in swamp land and allowed Napier to expand.
We left town, stocked up for a roughing-it style dinner at a roadside fruit stand with cheese, golden kiwis, and some bread, and then made our way to this little piece of paradise (now with groovin' soundtrack- either me singing songs about tiny towels or some Maori radio. I'm not sure which.)
Friday, August 10, 2012
12/8/11 Pacific Coast Highway
The day started well as we watched the sunrise. Sure we set off the car alarm twice in the pre-dawn hours , but things could only look up from there, right? Not so fast. It seemed ok for a while as we made our way to the East Cape. We had second breakfast at a Robert Harris coffee chain in Tauranga. Driving was going pretty ok for me. I was enjoying the road squiggles and trying to sort out my left from right. As we neared the point of no return I saw that the trip was going to take six more hours. I made a weak case for skipping the coast. On we went to the land of scenery. There were some beautiful vistas, the ocean in blues and greens, stormy clouds, sheep lice on chia pet hills, but the driving to to be too much and the scenery not enough.
Travel, hunger, tiredness, mis-communication, took us places we didn't want to go. Now we're stuck. We've driven a long way to do less. We've seen more of New Zealand in the mileage sense, but I'm frustrated with myself and us for cutting so much into our ability to explore. C had a great route planned for us, but I nudged it and then she pushed it and now we need to find a way to get back on track.
Pasta and salad at the Gisborne hostel thanks to Pak & Save got us back on track. The Tim Tams didn't hurt. Tomorrow we drive on...
Oh, I nearly forgot about the lunch spot on the "post-apocalyptic" beach- no tables, a creepy playground and gulls circling and coming way too close. We left in a hurry.
Travel, hunger, tiredness, mis-communication, took us places we didn't want to go. Now we're stuck. We've driven a long way to do less. We've seen more of New Zealand in the mileage sense, but I'm frustrated with myself and us for cutting so much into our ability to explore. C had a great route planned for us, but I nudged it and then she pushed it and now we need to find a way to get back on track.
Pasta and salad at the Gisborne hostel thanks to Pak & Save got us back on track. The Tim Tams didn't hurt. Tomorrow we drive on...
Oh, I nearly forgot about the lunch spot on the "post-apocalyptic" beach- no tables, a creepy playground and gulls circling and coming way too close. We left in a hurry.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
11/28/11 and 12/7/11- Supreme and the left
Upon reflection this day was great. It didn't always feel that way within, but as a whole it comes out a head. The main reason is the Supreme Court. I watched an oral argument. It was fascinating. The best part was body language. Clarence Thomas slouched a lot. Justices looked perplexed, thoughtful, frustrated, pleased and they joked and prodded. I would have been completely lost if not for the helpful explanation of a stranger in line. He helped me listen to the case with context.
The case was about standing, injury in fact or injury in law. It made sense at the time.
I actually had long-ish conversations with three strangers today. The last in a game shop where I may have completed Christmas shopping.
Productivity was solid. Activity was decent. Thankfulness good. Creativity didn't kick in until I captioned my photos. More to do tomorrow, but it will be hard to top today's success in court.
12/7/11- The Internet calls to me this morning. Its call is hunger, boredom, a need for connection. I have none of these things with much strength, but there's an emptiness before breakfast I'm going to look at the map and see if that settles me.
We're in Opoutere now at a quaint little campground with beach access. We spent several hours walking the beach and lounging about. It was quite nice. Driving out of Auckland was Xtreme!, but otherwise the left side of the road makes about as much sense as the right. Turns still scare me a bit, but for the most part I found a groove as we drove to and then rejected a Department of Conservation (DOC) campsite. It was lovely and spartan, but we were unprepared at that point.
We had lunch in a beach town, Tairua, at a joint called "Out of the Blue." It seemed family run. Both our dishes had plum sauce and were quite good. We also sampled L&P, world famous in New Zealand since ages ago, as recommeded by TJ and Reis . Tasty, but not noel like Malt in Iceland. I often find myself making comparisons like that, though not always with so much judgment. It's like I'm seeking to classify the experience with or near another I've had. Even the walk to the beach reminded me of Jurassic Park and I didn't even experience that. Hopefully a T-rex won't wake us from our tent slumber tonight. We can hear lots of birds and the wind is whipping over the hills, but I think crashing waves are out of earshot.
The case was about standing, injury in fact or injury in law. It made sense at the time.
I actually had long-ish conversations with three strangers today. The last in a game shop where I may have completed Christmas shopping.
Productivity was solid. Activity was decent. Thankfulness good. Creativity didn't kick in until I captioned my photos. More to do tomorrow, but it will be hard to top today's success in court.
12/7/11- The Internet calls to me this morning. Its call is hunger, boredom, a need for connection. I have none of these things with much strength, but there's an emptiness before breakfast I'm going to look at the map and see if that settles me.
We're in Opoutere now at a quaint little campground with beach access. We spent several hours walking the beach and lounging about. It was quite nice. Driving out of Auckland was Xtreme!, but otherwise the left side of the road makes about as much sense as the right. Turns still scare me a bit, but for the most part I found a groove as we drove to and then rejected a Department of Conservation (DOC) campsite. It was lovely and spartan, but we were unprepared at that point.
We had lunch in a beach town, Tairua, at a joint called "Out of the Blue." It seemed family run. Both our dishes had plum sauce and were quite good. We also sampled L&P, world famous in New Zealand since ages ago, as recommeded by TJ and Reis . Tasty, but not noel like Malt in Iceland. I often find myself making comparisons like that, though not always with so much judgment. It's like I'm seeking to classify the experience with or near another I've had. Even the walk to the beach reminded me of Jurassic Park and I didn't even experience that. Hopefully a T-rex won't wake us from our tent slumber tonight. We can hear lots of birds and the wind is whipping over the hills, but I think crashing waves are out of earshot.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
11/26/11 - Kermit and fate?
The Muppets were the highlight of the day. Better than the Pancake Pantry, better than the Cherokee Grill, better than a canoe ride around the lake, even better than a little run, enjoying the Muppets in theaters with Clare, Carol, and Mimi took the cake. I laughed. I nearly cried. I missed my grandma and our trips to the movies. I missed my childhood and the hopeful singing messages of those wonderful Jim Henson puppets. They were self-aware enough to be cool. Cheesy enough to be fun. I think I laughed more than anyone in the theater.
I'm ready to be home again. I hope I can last longer in New Zealand. Wait. One more note on the Muppets: I found it particularly troubling that Kermit had slipped into a life he'd never meant. If Kermit can't stay the course, how can the rest of us hope to?
I'm ready to be home again. I hope I can last longer in New Zealand. Wait. One more note on the Muppets: I found it particularly troubling that Kermit had slipped into a life he'd never meant. If Kermit can't stay the course, how can the rest of us hope to?
11/25/11 and 12/6/11- Naps and Mac's
Napping, hiking, eating, napping- today was a day of classic relaxation. We hiked to Abram Falls, about 5 miles and I'm not sure what else we did. I'm thankful that I got to spend some time with C and have a nice chat with her sister. I got a few decent photos, played a 30-minute hand of UNO and watched the tale end of Lohan's Freaky Friday. I go to bed thinking I need to run. It wasn't a bad day at all, but I look forward to eating better soon. Soon is probably not tomorrow. By better, I really only mean fewer desserts.
12/6- I crashed hard on the flight to Auckland and struggled to get to the youth hostel. We made it though. C said at one point my sleep was a snore. I remember saying that I didn't like the bed while sitting up, but as soon as I was prone it was glorious. I look forward to a return to bed right now.
I woke up early, maybe 6:30 NZ time, walked around the block, started a new book and then crashed until 10 AM. We had some pies for breakfast. What is silver beet? We then walked down Queen St. to the harbor. We looked at marked down Rugby World Cup merchandise, but didn't buy. C needed a nap, I went to a nearby square where Occupy Auckland and a live art display shared some space. I helped a small group of people put together a puzzle of red over-sized pieces. It had the desired effect as strangers were talking and working together. I left extremely satisfied. Not even giant seagulls or dancing businessmen with cell phones could deter me.
C and I ate lunch at a cafe called Shaky Isles. We then took a bus to Mt. Eden, a former volcano now with grassy crater, with great views of Auckland. There's much more to the city than we'll see, but we got ready for our meal with Daimon's friend TJ and his flat mate Reis. They are both comedians and it was a joy to share a Mac's beer and exchange observations and conversation. We had drinks at Cassette and dinner at Mezze. I'd to like to better recount the day and tie it to philosophy the way my book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance does, but sleep calls and I just want to get the day down. Tomorrow we drive--- on the left.
12/6- I crashed hard on the flight to Auckland and struggled to get to the youth hostel. We made it though. C said at one point my sleep was a snore. I remember saying that I didn't like the bed while sitting up, but as soon as I was prone it was glorious. I look forward to a return to bed right now.
I woke up early, maybe 6:30 NZ time, walked around the block, started a new book and then crashed until 10 AM. We had some pies for breakfast. What is silver beet? We then walked down Queen St. to the harbor. We looked at marked down Rugby World Cup merchandise, but didn't buy. C needed a nap, I went to a nearby square where Occupy Auckland and a live art display shared some space. I helped a small group of people put together a puzzle of red over-sized pieces. It had the desired effect as strangers were talking and working together. I left extremely satisfied. Not even giant seagulls or dancing businessmen with cell phones could deter me.
C and I ate lunch at a cafe called Shaky Isles. We then took a bus to Mt. Eden, a former volcano now with grassy crater, with great views of Auckland. There's much more to the city than we'll see, but we got ready for our meal with Daimon's friend TJ and his flat mate Reis. They are both comedians and it was a joy to share a Mac's beer and exchange observations and conversation. We had drinks at Cassette and dinner at Mezze. I'd to like to better recount the day and tie it to philosophy the way my book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance does, but sleep calls and I just want to get the day down. Tomorrow we drive--- on the left.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
12/5/11- A long day
There is no December 4 entry. It was gobbled up in a mess of time zones and travel. The flight to Sydney was better than expected. I watched "Bridesmaids," "Thor," and "I love you too" before finally getting to sleep at something like who knows what time- maybe ten to midnight Sydney time. I was very grateful for the in-flight entertainment options of Virgin Australia and for the kind flight attendants with brilliant accents. I slept off and on for four good hours and two average hours. The plane landed around 6:30 AM and we were seeing the Sydney sights by about 7:30.
The Opera House and the bridge were very photo-worthy in the morning. We walked the bridge, had a snack, headed to Balmain by ferry and had brunch. I enjoyed green eggs and ham. We walked Darling street for a while and battled fatigue. We then headed to Bondi beach. C had hopes of a nap on the beach, but a brisk wind and a light rain curtailed that desire. We walked Bondi street to Bondi junction passing souvenir shops and homes along the way. We had very little interest in anything as a desire to sleep grew stronger. We were looking forward to a New Zealand bed that night, but that was another three hour flight away. This is the other side of the world.
Arriving in Sydney, looking down at the ocean and trying to consider that we'd been over that water for 14 hours was too much to handle, but getting outside and getting to see some sites was worth it. Seeing the city as we landed was exciting. I sometimes forget how much I enjoy new places. There is mystery and fun in the new.
I'm tired and words aren't coming easily. The flight announcements are breaking my concentration. I'm easily distracted and easily angered. This may be the price of "time travel".
The Opera House and the bridge were very photo-worthy in the morning. We walked the bridge, had a snack, headed to Balmain by ferry and had brunch. I enjoyed green eggs and ham. We walked Darling street for a while and battled fatigue. We then headed to Bondi beach. C had hopes of a nap on the beach, but a brisk wind and a light rain curtailed that desire. We walked Bondi street to Bondi junction passing souvenir shops and homes along the way. We had very little interest in anything as a desire to sleep grew stronger. We were looking forward to a New Zealand bed that night, but that was another three hour flight away. This is the other side of the world.
Arriving in Sydney, looking down at the ocean and trying to consider that we'd been over that water for 14 hours was too much to handle, but getting outside and getting to see some sites was worth it. Seeing the city as we landed was exciting. I sometimes forget how much I enjoy new places. There is mystery and fun in the new.
I'm tired and words aren't coming easily. The flight announcements are breaking my concentration. I'm easily distracted and easily angered. This may be the price of "time travel".
Wednesday, July 04, 2012
11/23 and 11/24/11- On pie and pace
My work may be on hiatus, but Clare's goes on. We spent the morning in her office and I reaffirmed my distaste for: 1) long commutes 2) intern-type work.
The long drive to Gatlinburg, TN was a great chance to talk about the future, so we did. Nothing was settled, but we share more freely and we're in a good lace together even as we sometimes struggle to be in a good place individually. The drive did steal away some of my feeling of endless time and freedom. The miles will go quickly. I'm thankful to be here with Clare's family and I'm looking forward to our Thanksgiving day hike. Clare's sister is having a baby, affirming that Clare and I are moving at our own pace.
11/24- I appreciate the Thanksgiving tradition of the last 4 years. Clare, her dad, and I hike ini the Smoky Mountains while her mom and grandmother prepare dinner. This year's hike involved a cabin and a schoolhouse, a departure from our usual high altitude, big-view hikes of the past. Dinner was delicious, but the day challenged me. I couldn't find a satisfying balance of napping and not. I missed my family.
Tonight, we shopped. The chaos lasted a little more than an hour. I'd like to say it was a sociology experiment, but I must admit I was swept up in the idea of finding a bargain. I found none and instead found myself overwhelmed by the crowds.
The long drive to Gatlinburg, TN was a great chance to talk about the future, so we did. Nothing was settled, but we share more freely and we're in a good lace together even as we sometimes struggle to be in a good place individually. The drive did steal away some of my feeling of endless time and freedom. The miles will go quickly. I'm thankful to be here with Clare's family and I'm looking forward to our Thanksgiving day hike. Clare's sister is having a baby, affirming that Clare and I are moving at our own pace.
11/24- I appreciate the Thanksgiving tradition of the last 4 years. Clare, her dad, and I hike ini the Smoky Mountains while her mom and grandmother prepare dinner. This year's hike involved a cabin and a schoolhouse, a departure from our usual high altitude, big-view hikes of the past. Dinner was delicious, but the day challenged me. I couldn't find a satisfying balance of napping and not. I missed my family.
Tonight, we shopped. The chaos lasted a little more than an hour. I'd like to say it was a sociology experiment, but I must admit I was swept up in the idea of finding a bargain. I found none and instead found myself overwhelmed by the crowds.
Sunday, July 01, 2012
12/3/11- Headed to New Zealand
Dear Diary:
We're in LA. We've been traveling all day. Now it's time to travel all night. I feel better than expected at this point. I hope that can continue. We've had some bumpy spots; already had to change flights coming back, needed an Australia visa to be there for 13 hours. It's all ok though. C and I are snapping at one another a bit. Hopefully we can get used to spending this much time together again. I'm thankful we have the opportunity to try.
Today we've had no real problems. We're on time, our flights have been smooth, our Gyros delicious. I look forward to movies and sleep. I don't actually know when to call this day over. I'm amused by my lack of clarity about time and day already. Also totally psyched for more Aussie and Kiwi accents.
We're in LA. We've been traveling all day. Now it's time to travel all night. I feel better than expected at this point. I hope that can continue. We've had some bumpy spots; already had to change flights coming back, needed an Australia visa to be there for 13 hours. It's all ok though. C and I are snapping at one another a bit. Hopefully we can get used to spending this much time together again. I'm thankful we have the opportunity to try.
Today we've had no real problems. We're on time, our flights have been smooth, our Gyros delicious. I look forward to movies and sleep. I don't actually know when to call this day over. I'm amused by my lack of clarity about time and day already. Also totally psyched for more Aussie and Kiwi accents.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
11/22/11- The first day of renewal
After being with my company for seven years, they offer four additional weeks of vacation to be taken all at once. The program is called "renewal" and it comes with a two-year commitment to stay with the organization. It's a pretty sweet deal. I'm now seven months into that two-year commitment and needing to look back at my renewal. I kept a journal during that time and will share parts of that journal here. I reserve the right to edit as I go.
RENEWAL: My practice retirement started today. Leaving work reminded me of the last day of school. I had the urge to pull papers from my locker and toss them in the air.
I walked to the library in the rain. It was damp and dreary, but I smiled. Time was on my side. Time. Time. Stretched out before me.
I've cleaned, watched TV, made this journal more personal and now prepare to read and go to bed early. Work stress flared up a bit, but this writing is helping me calm back down. I'm considering a one Internet connection per day rule. I like the potential peace that could bring to my days. The rule did cause me to enter, leave, and re-enter the living room several times as I tried to figure out what to do with my time, glorious time. It feels weightless.
RENEWAL: My practice retirement started today. Leaving work reminded me of the last day of school. I had the urge to pull papers from my locker and toss them in the air.
I walked to the library in the rain. It was damp and dreary, but I smiled. Time was on my side. Time. Time. Stretched out before me.
I've cleaned, watched TV, made this journal more personal and now prepare to read and go to bed early. Work stress flared up a bit, but this writing is helping me calm back down. I'm considering a one Internet connection per day rule. I like the potential peace that could bring to my days. The rule did cause me to enter, leave, and re-enter the living room several times as I tried to figure out what to do with my time, glorious time. It feels weightless.
Friday, June 29, 2012
New vocuabulary- straight from Germany
I learned a new word today: torschlusspanik. I'm told it's German and means something along the lines of worrying about diminishing opportunities as I age. There are a number of reasons for my torschlusspanik: another birthday approaches, another olympics approaches, Ultimate isn't being played, finding my dream job is a much slower process when I never make efforts, etc., etc.
I keep having this Facebook status thought that goes something like: "This past year has really sucked when you take out my 6 week vacation that included 2 weeks in New Zealand, the fact that I got engaged, and the fact that CUA played its best Ultimate yet." Look at that statement. When am I going to have another 6 week vacation? Retirement or unemployment are my best hopes. New Zealand was amazing. Gorgeous. Awesome. There's more to come on those 6 weeks. I've got blog posts already written. Engaged? That's good stuff. Good Ultimate from the team I coached? What's not to like?
It makes for a ridiculous statement, yet the day-to-day has been pretty frustrating over the last year. There's been more job stress and uncertainty. There's been less exercise and certainly less intense exercise. I've stopped or lost almost every other pseudo-hobby I've had. I watch way too many movies and spend way too much time on the Internet.
If I get it down here, if I re-live or at least re-write my renewal, maybe I can change that status update. Maybe it can say something like: "Torschlusspanik or not, I knocked off some pretty serious stuff from my bucket list this year. Not too shabby, but man, I'd like to play some Ultimate." Maybe.
I keep having this Facebook status thought that goes something like: "This past year has really sucked when you take out my 6 week vacation that included 2 weeks in New Zealand, the fact that I got engaged, and the fact that CUA played its best Ultimate yet." Look at that statement. When am I going to have another 6 week vacation? Retirement or unemployment are my best hopes. New Zealand was amazing. Gorgeous. Awesome. There's more to come on those 6 weeks. I've got blog posts already written. Engaged? That's good stuff. Good Ultimate from the team I coached? What's not to like?
It makes for a ridiculous statement, yet the day-to-day has been pretty frustrating over the last year. There's been more job stress and uncertainty. There's been less exercise and certainly less intense exercise. I've stopped or lost almost every other pseudo-hobby I've had. I watch way too many movies and spend way too much time on the Internet.
If I get it down here, if I re-live or at least re-write my renewal, maybe I can change that status update. Maybe it can say something like: "Torschlusspanik or not, I knocked off some pretty serious stuff from my bucket list this year. Not too shabby, but man, I'd like to play some Ultimate." Maybe.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Perspiring quietly- additional reflections on life without AC
The whir of the portable fan begins to drown out the more pronounced shoosh-click of the ceiling fan. I watch the blades turn until my eyes can find just one. I follow it round and round and round until my eyeballs get sore, a hint of the dizzy sets in, and I start to worry that the light fixture will fall down on my head when I sleep.
Sleep. I long for it. I try not to focus on the sweat I can feel forming where my body and the sheets meet. I move ever so slightly, hoping my grateful warm skin will appreciate the air just enough that it will cancel out the effort of moving. Being hot is a form of relaxation. It limits movement, slows down bodies and thoughts. Being hot forces me to the floor. I want to be low, like a limbo-winner, lower still. I want to hover just above the ground. In a perfect world I'd have a whirring fan so powerful that it could lift me off the ground and keep my beads of sweat from forming. Instead, I have a fan the size of my head that can blow air all the way to my toes. Only a few beads will form. It could be worse.
Air conditioning has made me this way. I'm used to a certain level of cool, used to certain level of whir, used to covering my skin with a little weight when I sleep. Air has conditioned me to expect these things and to rebel when I don't have them. My rebellion is a quiet sort. It's a grassroots movement that starts in my hair follicles and eventually agitates my whole being. I'd twitch violently, but that would just be more movement. Slowly, I wipe the sweat away, adjust my beard just so, and count the sheep jumping into the pool.
Sleep. I long for it. I try not to focus on the sweat I can feel forming where my body and the sheets meet. I move ever so slightly, hoping my grateful warm skin will appreciate the air just enough that it will cancel out the effort of moving. Being hot is a form of relaxation. It limits movement, slows down bodies and thoughts. Being hot forces me to the floor. I want to be low, like a limbo-winner, lower still. I want to hover just above the ground. In a perfect world I'd have a whirring fan so powerful that it could lift me off the ground and keep my beads of sweat from forming. Instead, I have a fan the size of my head that can blow air all the way to my toes. Only a few beads will form. It could be worse.
Air conditioning has made me this way. I'm used to a certain level of cool, used to certain level of whir, used to covering my skin with a little weight when I sleep. Air has conditioned me to expect these things and to rebel when I don't have them. My rebellion is a quiet sort. It's a grassroots movement that starts in my hair follicles and eventually agitates my whole being. I'd twitch violently, but that would just be more movement. Slowly, I wipe the sweat away, adjust my beard just so, and count the sheep jumping into the pool.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Highway to some unpleasant locale
The AC went out on me on Thursday. There was a power thingy and some surges, probably some lightning, and I'm not a doctor, but the cool breeze that blows out of my floorboards stopped blowing. This seemed bad. Particularly, when I considered that summer, the official one, had just arrived. The heat from the outside became Miami's basketball team- The Heat. I turned on all the fans that we had- 4 in 3 rooms and just sweated a lot when using the WC. My sweat had a cooling effect and fortunately, some actual thunder accompanying a rain cloud also cooled the world a little because I was sweating up a storm in my own home.
The AC returned today, but not before I had the chance to reconnect with summer. There was a time, some number of years ago greater than the number of years ago that I graduated high school when my world was not always climate controlled. (That time resurfaced in college, but I'm thinking of a time when only one room in our house had a window unit.) Summer was hot and sticky those days. People drank lemonade and looked for shade. They also congregated around the window unit which is why central air conditioning became so popular. The days of window units are all but gone. My office now requires a sweater in the summer. I can go from air conditioned building to air conditioned building with just a hint of sweat on my brow. I had forgotten summer.
It can't all be blamed on central air. I haven't had nearly the same punishing outdoor schedule of years past and the weather hasn't stayed as consistently warm. Nonetheless, it was time for me to reacquaint myself with summer time. The living may be easy, but it's also pretty sweaty. Somehow, through the fits and starts of sleep and the sweaty television viewing, I found myself comfortably warm. The outside temperature and my body temperature were not so far apart. The world and I were one. Nature was just on the other side of the screen and sweat was a lubricant for life.
Today, the AC returned. I'll go back to admiring summer from behind the glass.
The AC returned today, but not before I had the chance to reconnect with summer. There was a time, some number of years ago greater than the number of years ago that I graduated high school when my world was not always climate controlled. (That time resurfaced in college, but I'm thinking of a time when only one room in our house had a window unit.) Summer was hot and sticky those days. People drank lemonade and looked for shade. They also congregated around the window unit which is why central air conditioning became so popular. The days of window units are all but gone. My office now requires a sweater in the summer. I can go from air conditioned building to air conditioned building with just a hint of sweat on my brow. I had forgotten summer.
It can't all be blamed on central air. I haven't had nearly the same punishing outdoor schedule of years past and the weather hasn't stayed as consistently warm. Nonetheless, it was time for me to reacquaint myself with summer time. The living may be easy, but it's also pretty sweaty. Somehow, through the fits and starts of sleep and the sweaty television viewing, I found myself comfortably warm. The outside temperature and my body temperature were not so far apart. The world and I were one. Nature was just on the other side of the screen and sweat was a lubricant for life.
Today, the AC returned. I'll go back to admiring summer from behind the glass.
Friday, June 15, 2012
A flight to nowhere, a honeymoon, and a 15 year reunion
The vacation did not begin well. After 30 minutes of flying toward KC, the pilot announced we were returning to DC. The delays became cancellation and the scramble to get a new flight as the tornado rolled into town became a scramble to find a flight the next day. Thanks to the generosity of C&L, we made the most of our flight to DC with a nice dinner and some movie watching.
After a sunrise jaunt to Chi-town, we nabbed a stand-by flight to KC and got to town well ahead of my cousin's wedding. The wedding was a jumbled gyration of family and FOG. It was over before the DJ even had a chance to play "Call me maybe". He did manage to play the cupid shuffle twice thanks to Madeline's request, however. My nieces danced 'til late, but would not be outdone by the bride and groom who kept going strong even after this clean up crew began removing decorations. This apple doesn't fall far from that tree.
Although some of the FOG dispersed, two clans headed out for an annual canoe trip, now with honeymooning. The usual water gun fights were complimented with a rope drop. The rope drop is a close cousin of the rope swing, but instead of that graceful arc out over the deep water of the Niangua, this involved hands being ripped raw from the rope as those of us who tried fell into the water. Tedward had more luck than I did, but I feel lucky that my only injury was rope burn.
I enjoy canoeing as it happens, but I think I enjoy it more in retrospect. It's such a peaceful activity with an occasional burst of activity and tension. It's a good mixture of relaxing and interesting. Parker made her first trip successfully. She relaxed so much that at different points on the trip she fell asleep, head lolling while the boat drifted down stream.
My sister discovered that although the her grown-up version enjoys canoeing far more than the teenage version, she still doesn't want to run a boat, at least not with her kids in it. For a while I wondered if I'd contributed to this lack of confidence, but then I decided that even if I hadn't been running the boat in our teen years, she would have resisted. It really seemed like she didn't like it those years. Eventually, every woman on the trip (except my mom) decided that, at least on a river like this, she preferred a kayak. I don't think it was a statement of independence as much as it was a comment on boat agility.
I particularly argue this since C and I closed out the week with a tandem ride. It didn't solve all our problems, but it was nice to be on the same bike ride at the same time. We would get better with starting given time. That required a little extra trust.
My story telling feels off now, but I'm trying to fight through it. My final paragraph is about the 15-year reunion I had with my track. My legs had no zip, but I still wanted to run a mile. It resulted in a pretty evenly paced 5:19. This is a good 4 seconds per year slower than, well, 15 years ago. I don't know that this is entirely reflective of my state of fitness, but it's pretty close as I continue to fight with this same mess. I'm back to PT and hoping to get over the hump. I want to sprint again and jump again (and yeah, play some Ultimate again.)
After a sunrise jaunt to Chi-town, we nabbed a stand-by flight to KC and got to town well ahead of my cousin's wedding. The wedding was a jumbled gyration of family and FOG. It was over before the DJ even had a chance to play "Call me maybe". He did manage to play the cupid shuffle twice thanks to Madeline's request, however. My nieces danced 'til late, but would not be outdone by the bride and groom who kept going strong even after this clean up crew began removing decorations. This apple doesn't fall far from that tree.
Although some of the FOG dispersed, two clans headed out for an annual canoe trip, now with honeymooning. The usual water gun fights were complimented with a rope drop. The rope drop is a close cousin of the rope swing, but instead of that graceful arc out over the deep water of the Niangua, this involved hands being ripped raw from the rope as those of us who tried fell into the water. Tedward had more luck than I did, but I feel lucky that my only injury was rope burn.
I enjoy canoeing as it happens, but I think I enjoy it more in retrospect. It's such a peaceful activity with an occasional burst of activity and tension. It's a good mixture of relaxing and interesting. Parker made her first trip successfully. She relaxed so much that at different points on the trip she fell asleep, head lolling while the boat drifted down stream.
My sister discovered that although the her grown-up version enjoys canoeing far more than the teenage version, she still doesn't want to run a boat, at least not with her kids in it. For a while I wondered if I'd contributed to this lack of confidence, but then I decided that even if I hadn't been running the boat in our teen years, she would have resisted. It really seemed like she didn't like it those years. Eventually, every woman on the trip (except my mom) decided that, at least on a river like this, she preferred a kayak. I don't think it was a statement of independence as much as it was a comment on boat agility.
I particularly argue this since C and I closed out the week with a tandem ride. It didn't solve all our problems, but it was nice to be on the same bike ride at the same time. We would get better with starting given time. That required a little extra trust.
My story telling feels off now, but I'm trying to fight through it. My final paragraph is about the 15-year reunion I had with my track. My legs had no zip, but I still wanted to run a mile. It resulted in a pretty evenly paced 5:19. This is a good 4 seconds per year slower than, well, 15 years ago. I don't know that this is entirely reflective of my state of fitness, but it's pretty close as I continue to fight with this same mess. I'm back to PT and hoping to get over the hump. I want to sprint again and jump again (and yeah, play some Ultimate again.)
Monday, May 28, 2012
Longing
As the heat of summer slides between the hairs on my chin, I long to chase plastic. There are certain charms to the discussions of home maintenance, wedding planning, and the best way to grill a burger, but I'm distracted by thoughts of flying discs. I wasn't helped at all by the free streaming college nationals on the Internet. I watched the collegiate greats ripping long hucks in front of a mountain back drop. I watched great players diving and leaping and I longed to shed this lameness and join them or at least join their older brothers and sisters in a sloppy game of pick up.
I've done better with my disappointment this time around, but this weekend my resolve is slipping. I feel betrayed by my body. My mind lunges for discs unthrown. I throw fakes to shake defenders who aren't there. I hold conversations when I'd rather be running up and down a field panting, thirsting, and chasing after the disc that's brought me so much joy. I made it through a very good college Ultimate season, primarily focused on the improvement of others, but now left on my own I feel empty without it. I want to run free, sweat free, and celebrate my freedom pushing a working body to exhaustion in pursuit of a silly little disc.
Sometimes I question how this can matter so much; I search for suitable alternatives. I've found a few, enjoyed other moments and other games. I've put my focus elsewhere, but today in the full force of the DC humidity, I grow weary of this state of affairs and long to break free.
I ramble in my frustration, trying to shake it. I turn up the music. I let the words spill out and I breathe deeply.
Life's lessons, I suppose. I'm taking my sweet time learning this one.
I've done better with my disappointment this time around, but this weekend my resolve is slipping. I feel betrayed by my body. My mind lunges for discs unthrown. I throw fakes to shake defenders who aren't there. I hold conversations when I'd rather be running up and down a field panting, thirsting, and chasing after the disc that's brought me so much joy. I made it through a very good college Ultimate season, primarily focused on the improvement of others, but now left on my own I feel empty without it. I want to run free, sweat free, and celebrate my freedom pushing a working body to exhaustion in pursuit of a silly little disc.
Sometimes I question how this can matter so much; I search for suitable alternatives. I've found a few, enjoyed other moments and other games. I've put my focus elsewhere, but today in the full force of the DC humidity, I grow weary of this state of affairs and long to break free.
I ramble in my frustration, trying to shake it. I turn up the music. I let the words spill out and I breathe deeply.
Life's lessons, I suppose. I'm taking my sweet time learning this one.
Saturday, May 05, 2012
17 months of rest leaves me feeling fresh
I woke up nervous. It was nice to have that feeling back. It's been too long since I raced. My body still knew what to do. I joined Sam and Matt on a warm-up to the start of the MBT 5k. I went to the bathroom early and often. We had too much time to warm-up or not enough desire to get a full warm-up going. Either way, it seemed the only thing warming up was the sunshine.
I had plans. Plans are important. I never follow my plans, but that doesn't make them less important. I planned to run 6:15 miles. That would have netted a 19:25. That's just a touch faster than my slowest 5k I believe. After 17 months, it seemed like conservative was the way to go.
The leisurely morning finally turned into a race. It was a typical small road race where people are shy about toeing the starting line. We ended up in the pole position. We got out faster than 6:15. I couldn't tell how fast, but I used my plans to slow myself down. I found myself in about 10th place and struggling with pace. Was I out too fast or was this too slow? I felt like I was in the way. I tucked in behind a woman for a bit and then she pulled away. On we ran. I felt good, like I was holding something back. I had no pain. All systems were go.
We made the first turn and I caught two guys on the downhill. I was tucked in behind them, but on this out and back course where runners were supposed to stay to the left, we found runners and walkers had gone right. I surged past the two and began waving frantically, even arguing for a moment on the run. That got me going.
I thought I saw the halfway mark and I was at 9:17. My plans were out the window, but I felt ok with pace. I just hoped I could hold it. I picked off a few more folks. At the second turn I passed another and found myself in fifth. The woman from earlier and one guy were within striking distance. Second place was off in the distance and first was long gone. I struggled a bit and checked my watch. It read 14 and change. I didn't really do a pace calculation, but I told myself, "Give me 4 more minutes. That's all." I passed Matt and Sam heading the other way and Matt pointed out the guy in third. His message crystallized my goal. I accelerated slightly. I passed the man in third and set my sights on the lead woman. She was running well. I cheered her as I went by, hoping she'd accept my support and knowing that she might come back on me at the end.
I held her off with a final push around the corner and up the hill. I hit 18:28, a 5:57 pace. I hope this pushes me back into the game. I feel a little tightness tonight, but for the most part I feel good. I'm happy to be back racing and perhaps happy to be back writing about it too.
I had plans. Plans are important. I never follow my plans, but that doesn't make them less important. I planned to run 6:15 miles. That would have netted a 19:25. That's just a touch faster than my slowest 5k I believe. After 17 months, it seemed like conservative was the way to go.
The leisurely morning finally turned into a race. It was a typical small road race where people are shy about toeing the starting line. We ended up in the pole position. We got out faster than 6:15. I couldn't tell how fast, but I used my plans to slow myself down. I found myself in about 10th place and struggling with pace. Was I out too fast or was this too slow? I felt like I was in the way. I tucked in behind a woman for a bit and then she pulled away. On we ran. I felt good, like I was holding something back. I had no pain. All systems were go.
We made the first turn and I caught two guys on the downhill. I was tucked in behind them, but on this out and back course where runners were supposed to stay to the left, we found runners and walkers had gone right. I surged past the two and began waving frantically, even arguing for a moment on the run. That got me going.
I thought I saw the halfway mark and I was at 9:17. My plans were out the window, but I felt ok with pace. I just hoped I could hold it. I picked off a few more folks. At the second turn I passed another and found myself in fifth. The woman from earlier and one guy were within striking distance. Second place was off in the distance and first was long gone. I struggled a bit and checked my watch. It read 14 and change. I didn't really do a pace calculation, but I told myself, "Give me 4 more minutes. That's all." I passed Matt and Sam heading the other way and Matt pointed out the guy in third. His message crystallized my goal. I accelerated slightly. I passed the man in third and set my sights on the lead woman. She was running well. I cheered her as I went by, hoping she'd accept my support and knowing that she might come back on me at the end.
I held her off with a final push around the corner and up the hill. I hit 18:28, a 5:57 pace. I hope this pushes me back into the game. I feel a little tightness tonight, but for the most part I feel good. I'm happy to be back racing and perhaps happy to be back writing about it too.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Isn't there an REM song like this?
Ears submerged in water, the sound of splashing dulled, legs kicking, eyes focused on ceiling tiles, I felt a calm that has been elusive in recent weeks. On my back, slicing through the water, I was in an active recovery. The real difference from the laps I would crawl before and after was my ability to breathe. With the gasping and thrashing gone, swimming laps in the neighborhood pool became a meditation.
I've been swimming more times this year than I go most summers. With running and Ultimate not available the way I'd really like and the idea of a triathlon never quite sticking, it seemed like a good time to head to the pool. I've been fortunate to have a teacher on a few of my swims. Jim imparts the wisdom of his high school swimming days as best he can remember. His explanations of form taught me more about swimming in 30 minutes than I've learned in 20 years.
After a dip or two into the water, I purchased goggles and they have also changed swimming for me. If I was prone to hyperbole, I'd say they opened up an underwater world. If not a world, they've at least allowed me to see when I'm submerged which means I don't have to hold my head above water to look out. I haven't mastered all of this, but not bobbing my head out there increases efficiency considerably.
I swim with urgency. Like I'm being chased by sharks. This is ok for a length or two, but since I'm still working on breathing techniques and since I'm trying to get in a workout, this often leads to large sips of pool water and hacking coughs that echo off water and wall.
On Wednesday, I watched other swimmers and they move their arms more slowly, rhythmically, like a runner who understands pace rather than a child trying not to drown. I often compare my swimming experiences to running experiences. I'm fascinated by the breakdown, that point where physically and mentally I can no longer keep my form. It comes quickly in swimming, but it's so soft compared to running. The thrash is similar, in running it's harder on the legs than the arms, but the overall wobble is familiar. Yet, the swimming collapse would be so much stiller, so much quieter. I don't see legs buckling and balance teetering. I just see sinking.
After my swim, I ran home. It's less than half a mile, but my legs felt shaky. My body didn't quite know how to react. I couldn't go much faster, but I sensed I could go on much farther. It felt wonderfully terrible. It felt affirming. It felt like accomplishment.
What does REM have to say about that?
I've been swimming more times this year than I go most summers. With running and Ultimate not available the way I'd really like and the idea of a triathlon never quite sticking, it seemed like a good time to head to the pool. I've been fortunate to have a teacher on a few of my swims. Jim imparts the wisdom of his high school swimming days as best he can remember. His explanations of form taught me more about swimming in 30 minutes than I've learned in 20 years.
After a dip or two into the water, I purchased goggles and they have also changed swimming for me. If I was prone to hyperbole, I'd say they opened up an underwater world. If not a world, they've at least allowed me to see when I'm submerged which means I don't have to hold my head above water to look out. I haven't mastered all of this, but not bobbing my head out there increases efficiency considerably.
I swim with urgency. Like I'm being chased by sharks. This is ok for a length or two, but since I'm still working on breathing techniques and since I'm trying to get in a workout, this often leads to large sips of pool water and hacking coughs that echo off water and wall.
On Wednesday, I watched other swimmers and they move their arms more slowly, rhythmically, like a runner who understands pace rather than a child trying not to drown. I often compare my swimming experiences to running experiences. I'm fascinated by the breakdown, that point where physically and mentally I can no longer keep my form. It comes quickly in swimming, but it's so soft compared to running. The thrash is similar, in running it's harder on the legs than the arms, but the overall wobble is familiar. Yet, the swimming collapse would be so much stiller, so much quieter. I don't see legs buckling and balance teetering. I just see sinking.
After my swim, I ran home. It's less than half a mile, but my legs felt shaky. My body didn't quite know how to react. I couldn't go much faster, but I sensed I could go on much farther. It felt wonderfully terrible. It felt affirming. It felt like accomplishment.
What does REM have to say about that?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Crazy, Stupid, Chemistry
John has asked what I liked so much about Crazy, Stupid, Love and it's forcing me to consider my off-the-cuff year-end reflection a little more closely. Was it a "slow movie" with one good scene? First, I'll admit that I don't judge all movies equally, but my tastes often overlap with John's. So where did we depart on this one?
Was it expectations? It was advertised in line as a sort of offbeat romantic comedy and it delivered what I was looking for on that front with some laughs and the promise of happy enough endings.
I'll admit that it wasn't amazing on the comedy front and I do think the one scene John referred to was the big moment of the film, but what got me was something else. In my highly unscientific movie rating scale I usually rate two factors higher than the rest. Those factors:
1. Character connection or chemistry and
2. believability- that the rules of the created universe are followed.
Crazy, Stupid, Love succeeds on both of those fronts. In a romantic comedy, two is always very much a part of one, and I thought every relationship (every major one anyway) was well connected and believable. The connections didn't blow me away like Lost in Translation, but the solid performances by all the actors and the connections they created kept me entertained until that scene which caught me off guard.
Was it expectations? It was advertised in line as a sort of offbeat romantic comedy and it delivered what I was looking for on that front with some laughs and the promise of happy enough endings.
I'll admit that it wasn't amazing on the comedy front and I do think the one scene John referred to was the big moment of the film, but what got me was something else. In my highly unscientific movie rating scale I usually rate two factors higher than the rest. Those factors:
1. Character connection or chemistry and
2. believability- that the rules of the created universe are followed.
Crazy, Stupid, Love succeeds on both of those fronts. In a romantic comedy, two is always very much a part of one, and I thought every relationship (every major one anyway) was well connected and believable. The connections didn't blow me away like Lost in Translation, but the solid performances by all the actors and the connections they created kept me entertained until that scene which caught me off guard.
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