The no surprise 5k

It's been a long time since I've run a race. The ol' blog says March 2, 2014. It's been 489 days since I last raced. There might be a support group for that. It's been even longer since I raced a 5k, but I remembered it well.

At the Loveland Liberty 5k on this 4th of July, I let old habits guide me. I woke up ready to go with some nerves in my stomach. I arrived early and warmed up, sprinkled in a few of my favorite warm-up plyometrics, drank a little water, and headed to the start line.

My goal was to break 20 minutes. I've done a little training over the last six weeks, some hills, some weight lifting, some tempo runs and this felt like an attainable goal.

As I stood at the starting line, I had jitters and doubts. The doubts were seriously out-muscling the jitters. In honor of the 4th of July, the pre-start activities included The Star Spangled Banner. My doubts disappeared. It didn't matter if I ran fast. I got to run. There were a lot of things that mattered more than my time.

Boom went the cannon. A whole lot of runners exploded into their trot. I'd forgotten how slow casual races start. My pace wasn't going to be that fast, but it needed to be faster than that. At the first turn, I ran wide and started picking people off. I stayed wide for a quarter mile or so until I settled in behind a group of high school girls. They were wearing cleats and sounded like tap dancers. I sped up to get past them, but the alpha girl made her move at the same time. Tap, tap, tap, we raced on through the mile. I made another move and put a little distance between us, but the tapping wouldn't go away.

My ambition soon outstripped my training and the tapping grew louder. A small pack, now with only one tap dancer overtook me. I tried to stay in contact, but mile 2 proved to be a long one. I was pleased to remember that races take place all over, not just up front. I think I relearn this lesson every time. I surged a bit and caught a fading teen boy. I tried to encourage him to close the gap on the group that just passed him and come along with me, but my words seemed to have the opposite effect and he blew up and disappeared. I had only slightly better luck.

Nearing the final 800 meters, I looked up to see the green shorts and the flailing limbs of the tap dancer. I told myself to make a move. I knew I could overtake her. My body responded with a resounding two step surge and I made no progress.

800 meters turned into 200 meters and finally my mind convinced my body to surge. I closed the gap on the tap dancer, but was quickly running out of room. Tap dancer won the female division in 20:01. I crossed close behind in 20:03.

I was 17th overall, 3rd in my age division and have ample room for improvement. My oldest niece PRed and has closed the gap between us to under 8 minutes.

I have a goal that involves edging her out in 5k races all through high school. There are some naysayers out there, but all the best goals attract the naysayers, right?

March 29 and 30, Day 9 and 10

Day 9
We are nearing the conclusion of our trip. We lost an hour to French daylight savings time last night and couldn't get out the door before 11. After breakfast at a nearby boulangerie, I with my pain sportif and Clare with her pain au something, we walked along Canal St. Martin.

After walking breakfast, we discovered that Velobib, Velolib, the bikeshares wouldn't go for the chipless Americans. This was disappointing, though less so since it rained all day. We walked to Antoine & Lili with its cheery clothing and housewares and then pointed to 104, a Jen P. recommendation. We stopped along the way to snatch some quiche and then entered the warehouse, campus-looking cent quatre. I don't think we would have discovered this without the prompt, but it was enjoyable people-watching as promised. Youth abounded and much of that youth seemed to be practicing an art- dancing, singing, rehearsing a play. It was a neat space and we spent a good deal of time there. Clare returned for a nap and I returned for a refresher on where the heck we were now staying.

I then set my course to the Louvre. I was lost immediately, but followed signs to the Picasso museum, where I was scared off by the crowds. It's laughable now that I thought the crowds at the Louvre would be more manageable, but that was my plan. The Louvre was a Zoo-vre. I decided that milling about with thousands was not the afternoon I'd hoped so I made my exit on Rue de Rivoli. There a runner passed me. As I turned into the gardens, I realized that a run would be a fine thing to do. I wrapped my rain coat and sweatshirt around my waist, hiked up my new gray pants and began my jog.

I nearly left my hat behind, but jogged back to grab it from the ground. I circled the garden chasing other Louvre runners and then took to the streets with an eye on the Eiffel Tower.  I jogged through a maze and past a host of people out for a Sunday in Paris. I made it past the tower when I was passed by a man in a semi-marathon Paris T-shirt. I gave chase for a while, but wore out quickly. I crossed a fine multi-purpose bridge- top for trains, bottom for cars, bikes, and pedestrians. I walked up a hill, down the street to the Arc de Triomphe then down the Champs Elysee's to the Metro.

For dinner it was Italian somewhere in the 11th. Tomorrow is the last full day. It may include a visit to Eiffel. It probably will include a patisserie. Au revoir.

Reflections on Day 10 more than a month later
It ended like the others with sleep, but before that there was the Eiffel Tower. We went at night and I eagerly waited in line to go up. The line was long, but manageable. I merrily headed to the elevator after the security check and then as we began the ascent I was gripped by fear. Do I have a fear of heights? Why yes, yes I do. I shakily made it out of the elevator and slowly regained a bit of comfort as we took in the sights of Paris at night. Then, we headed up to the top. I couldn't even look out on the way up this time. I could only stare up and let discomfort bubble inside of me. We exited the elevator into an enclosed area and I felt mostly ok. When we climbed the stairs to go outside 276 meters above the ground, my legs felt heavy. I gripped my backpack, now on my chest, and slowly made my way into the wind. The view hadn't changed much from the previous level and I again found some level of comfort in my discomfort. Then the hourly flashing lights threw me for a bit of a loop, but I was able to partly settle down again. We identified places we'd been and places we hadn't. We celebrated Clare's birthday with a macaroon and then we made our way back down. We found other Coloradans in our elevator and then took the stairs down the last part. My fear of heights remained, but self-talk got me through. It was a strange visit to the Eiffel Tower, but it was at the end of a filling day.

There had been hot and cold chocolate at Angelina's, strange taxidermy at Deyrolle, and more wandering to shops like Artazart and Laduree for last minute gifts and souvenirs. We revisited a few favorites, at least in memory, and again munched on a few delicious French treats. I'm sure there was more enjoyed but mostly forgotten. It was a successful vacation, though worries of bed bugs would remain for a week or two. We were ready to return home, but will want to return.

A bientot.

Day 7, March 27 and 8, March 28

The night's sleep was rough but we made it last. After a slow start we grabbed Metro and headed to Notre Dame, took some pics, searched but failed to find pont zero, and then wandered over to Shakespeare and Co. It was an excellent bookstore, but we resisted making a purchase (this time). From there we cruised the Jardin du Luxembourg. It was nice to see flowers blooming. Ah, springtime in Paris or something to that effect. From there it was on to the Pantheon where Foucalt's pendulum isn't (due to construction) and a stop for snacking quiche.

Wander and eat. That was the theme of today. We cruised the 6th Arr., Clare's phone died, we got lost and hungry, stopped off for some samiches (unofficial French) at some famous guy's boulangerie. They were not amazing. Neither was my orange Fanta. Remind me to avoid that tomorrow. We headed back by the hunchback's house and on to ile St. Louis. We stopped at first Bertillion ice cream dealer we could find. It looked seedier than I remembered, but there was a line and then an angry French proprietor and then a relocated line and then delicious sweet ice cream. It turns out Bertillion has overtaken the ile with dealers at nearly every entrance. My pistache was excellent though. Clare liker her tiramisu to the tune of pretty good.

After ice cream, we headed home for an afternoon nap. Post-nap we cruised the Champs-Elysees, took a jog to the ? Arr and had dinner at a creperie L'Atlier. I had an ok galette (grammelet?), a tasty cider and a superb butter and sugar crepe. We then took a walk on the Seine, passed by the art projected on the Royal Palais and returned by Metro to our un peu maison. A bientot.

Day 8
Fully embracing this schedule, we didn't roll out until about 11 AM. We headed to some shops on Clare's list in the 3rd. I was desperate for a pain au chocolate, so we snagged one before going to Musee Carnavalet- gratuie- a museum of the history of Paris. I found the decimal clock to be particularly interesting. As part of the revolution the rebels(?) devised a system of time in increments of 10. The clockmakers had a fit. I need to do more research on this. I also especially enjoyed the paintings of Paris in the winter. Fighting museum fatigue, we had a 2 PM brunch at la boehme.It was tasty, especially my carrot ginger soup and our almond cake dessert. We hit a few more shops including for tea at Mrage a Freer's and BHV which was teaming with people. We took a brief rest by the Seine, but Clare needed more. She left me at Hotel de Ville where I waited about an hour in line to see the photoreporter Photo Magnum exhibit. There were about 15 photos for each decade or so in Paris. Many were of people, powerful portraits, but some were of events and a few had strong diagonals and use of dark and light that were just amazing. I couldn't even put my finger on what made a lot of the photos great.

I returned to the apartment and Clare dramatically announced that we needed to leave because of bed bugs. Apparently the last guest had bits. Air BnB refunded money and asked that we get a hotel. The host was very concerned and generous. We laundered some and got out of the 10th. Clare had expertly located a hotel in the 11th and we walked over. We've gone from a tiny apartment to a room about the size of our bedroom at home. I'm seeing the benefits of Air BnB more clearly now, but I'm hopeful I will like this bed and shower better. Maybe the bed bugs will be a false alarm too. One can hope.

We had a late dinner at Cafe Gaston. I had a Bramble French. It was gin-based. I've decided that gin tastes like old ladies. I had duck. Clare had lamb. She was quite pleased. We then sprung for another dessert with Tom and Donna (Parks & Rec) flair. It feels a bit like we the walls are closing in here at Motel de Matello, but I think I can make it work for 3 nights. Here's hoping.

P.S. Espresso at brunch; Giant colon tour with a translator before noon.

Day 4 to Day 6- A metaphor for life?

Day 4: When Brian C. says, "Visit the Sex Museum," you visit the sex museum.

We started the day early biking in bike rush hour traffic and then standing for about an hour to get into the Anne Frank house. The line just kept growing while we waited. The house and the words from the diary are dramatic and powerful, but the crowd is sizable and at times made it hard to focus.

From Anne Frank, we wandered a bit and finally settled on some snacking croissants. We ate and walked, every bit an American, back to our bikes which we then rode confidently to the sex museum. The museum was as advertised, odd, amusing, and not terribly informative. My biggest takeaway was that not that much has changed, well, ever. We had lunch at the Pancake Bakery. It was something we could agree on. Clare tried poffertjes and I stuck with pannekoekn. Yum.

After lunch it was on to the red light district. It was about 2 PM on a Tuesday and the vibe was still odd. There were packs of men roaming the streets. The red-illuminated windows were lower and more prevalent than I'd expected. I found it odd that most of this took place in the shadow of a church. Clare started a short list of what women in the windows were doing, some smiled and flirted, many were texting, one was eating a banana, some seemed to avoid the windows and others just stood there. It was all very strange and left me with many questions. None I was prepared to ask.

From the district we returned to our bikes and tried to outrun the rain. We stopped in a cool screen printing shop and then went home to nap. We napped into the evening and had a night at our faux-home including Clare walloping me in a game of cribbage.

Tomorrow is it. I feel like there is so much still to do, although there's only a few things I really plan to do. A metaphor for life? my own lack of ambition? Perhaps Van Gogh will know.

Day 5/ March 25: I did not want to wake up today. I'm not sure what is going on, but I didn't get up until 9:45. We hopped on our bikes in some classic grey rainy Netherlands weather. We hightailed it to the Van Gogh museum and hardly had to wait in line. The museum was crowded, but well organized, yielding insight into Van Gogh's process and outlining his life. We had lunch at nearby Mem's (or Allen's if I'm reading the signs)- paninis and teas before walking around the neighborhood called Pip. We finished Pip off at FOAM, the photography museum.

The first exhibit was enjoyable, memories of flashbulbs, the photographer used large sections of black or white in his compositions. The other exhibits were interesting in theory. Post-FOAM, we shared a croquette at Holtkamp, said to be the best. It did not disappoint. It was like eating a delicious stew in a fried bowl.

We returned to our apartment, but all my sleep must have left me with energy. I wandered again through Westerpark, the gas works, and circled back through neighborhoods. I decided walking is good when you want to explore at a slow pace, but biking is good to cover more distance when your direction is clear(er). Clare will vouch for this since a bus nearly ran us off the road today. Our left turns need work, but I remained amazed of biking in Amsterdam.

I had takeaway shoarma for dinner. It wasn't as good as I remembered, but the place I remember seemed fancier. We leave tomorrow. I'd like to return to the Netherlands, but I'm not sure I need much longer in Amsterdam.

Day 6:  We woke up early and took efficient public transit to Amsterdam Centraal. There we waited for our train to Brussels that was a train to Paris. Poof, we were in Brussels. We cruised by the Grand Palace, had some seafood at the recommended Nordeeze (not bbq). I had shrimp croquettes. They would have been amazing without the shrimp. Clare had fried mussels (in Brussels). She was pleased.

From there we pointed our peckers to Mannekin Pis, but were waylaid by waffles. We chose leige with Belgian chocolate. Ooh la la. I could have had waffles for days. Notice a theme?

We joined the hordes at Mannekin Pis. I knew it was small, but I still remember being considerably more amused at age 6. More amusing these days were the references- Mannekin Pils, Mannekin Bis(tro)and Mannekin Frites complete with peeing fry logo. The rain was falling and Clare elected to return to the station. I hated to wait so long for a train, so chose to wander Brussels. This didn't really pay off except I found a great playground with various levels and rooms. Also, I got lost several times. For a while I used bikeshare maps to navigate, but then had to turn to Clare's phone. It's good to get lost and have the heart racing now and again.

Poof, we're in Paris. Our studio apartment is small, but should be suitable here in 10 Arr. The traffic is loud now, but will hopefully settle. We've headed out to cruise the canal and discovered a wonderful bookstore, Artazart. I wanted several items that I will probably resist- pinhole cameras, satchels, and some neat design books. We then landed at a cafe, Cafe Marine and ordered drinks although we really wanted dinner.

I made a triumphant return to Pelforth Brune and then played the game of 'catch-the-waiter's-eye'. After losing a while, I found my confidence (in a Brune?). I asked about dinner, we ordered and ate delicious rabbit and then I asked for the check. Perhaps I made up for my bumbling in Amsterdam. My French isn't conversational, but my hunger was serious.

The Quinquennial Celebration- Spring- Day 1-3 - March 21-23

We flew from Denver to Iceland. The flight wasn't bad. I knocked out 3 movies: Birdman, Whiplash, Shawshank Redemption. They got better the closer I got to Iceland. We were in Iceland with the sunrise, but only had time for a pit stop before it was on to Amsterdam.

I struggled on that leg of the trip, but finally got a few winks. We arrived starving and tired; ate wraps and drank smoothies at an airport store and boarded a train to Central Station. After a little searching we then boarded a bus to our AirBnB apartment near Westerpark. It's a cute 2-room join on the third story. The bathroom is a closet, but there's plenty of room otherwise. We're getting comfortable.

Clare took a nap; I wandered a bit. Ask me about the Polyp Party. No, don't, it's a carnival ride shaped like an octopus. I returned for a short nap and then we headed to the old gasworks for dinner. Our first choice place was busy and we were too spent for inquiries, so we moved on to Pizza Pazzani. The meal tasted good in its averageness. We felt guilty about our lack of Dutch, although everyone has been very accommodating of our English. A few Dutch phrases have come to mind, but I lack the confidence to wield them. Perhaps sleep will help. Let's go find out.

Day 2- March 22
At about 3 AM it seemed that sleep might be used up, but this proved untrue. We finally got up at 8. After sprinkles for breakfast, we began a modified reverse walking tour of Jordaan. We passed the long lines of Anne Frank, popped in the Cheese Museum, window shopped and took photos of shudders, canals and bikes until lunch time at the Screaming Bean. After lunch we rode some trains out to Maarn where Jolieke and Pim met us at the station .Wis and Bart were still napping, but we soon scooped them up and all headed to the Amersfoort zoo. Pim learned to say "I want to show you the lions," but was otherwise unconvinced that we could not speak Dutch. We looked at animals, slid on slides, and rode the train. It was an enjoyable afternoon with good company and good catching up. We had pannenkoeken at Jagershuys. If I'd been there (and I suspect I had), like the zoo, it had probably been remodeled in the last 30 years.

J took us through Doorn and for a quick look at my old house. The yard had been re-done and it looked as though Theo was long gone (he is), but from the outside the house looked very much the same. It failed to stir many memories; a bit of badminton, a time locked in Becky's room, but I was still pleased to see it. We returned to Jolieke's for tea and then headed back to our temp home in Amsterdam. It will be good to see them all again in July when they visit the states. Almost 15 years without a visit, now 2 in 1 year. Life is funny.

Best Pim story: Pim gave us licorice and stroop wafels. J said Pim wanted to eat the licorice, but she was able to explain that we couldn't get it in the states. Pim now thinks that all his suitcases for their holiday should be filled with licorice. This seems pretty wise to me.

Day 3- March 23
I woke up dead today. If that wasn't jet lag, I don't know what is. Once Clare got me going, we headed to catch a boat- a canal boat. We toured the city by waterway, eventually stopping for club sandwiches at Homemade. We boated on back toward home. I took out one of the apartment bikes and set my course for Sloterpark disc golf. It took 3 trips around the block, but I finally found my way. At least until I got lost again. Despite my troubles, the bike ride was heaven. It's amazing that cars yield, that there are bike traffic jams, and that there are so many good bike paths. It's like a dream.

I had a tough time navigating the disc golf course, but managed to hand on to my disc and only skip 4 holes. There was no one on the course. No one. People stared at me in awe. They had no idea what I was doing. The course was ok, ignoring the difficult to follow layout, but narrow in a lot of places. I could have used a guide and some more familiar discs (not the Roc).

Once finished I headed home on the glorious bike paths and into bike rush hour. C made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner after a frits snack. We took an after dinner walk to get some Amsterdam-at-night photos. We capped off the evening with Stoelen, some sort of apple croissant-like treat. Tomorrow we're going to try to beat or brave the line at the Anne Frank Huis.

A return

Standing, held in a half-nelson by my own lungs, I coughed and heaved near the back of the endzone on our sideline. Nearly 360 days of attrition, of sitting at a computer, of disc golf and walking serving as my exercise, were now reminding me of my own mortality.

The reminders are coming too frequently lately.

On the verge of losing my PB&J, I regained control before coughing and heaving another spell. Finally after way too long, my body seemed to settle. My new team had just lost our first game 13-1, but I was so happy to be back out there playing, the score hardly mattered. The coughing made me concerned about a second game, but thankfully my body rallied.

I'd been nervous about this return to Ultimate for days. I played some disc golf that morning to try to calm my nerves. My heart rate remained elevated, but at least I was distracted. I avoided starting the first game, but then it came my turn to play as my weary teammates looked to the sidelines for a substitute. I didn't really have time to consider the moment any longer. I just stepped on the field and let instinct take over.

I'd considered wearing long pants to hide my brace, but chose comfort and honesty over trying to hide a weakness. All my weaknesses aren't braced anyway. I've lost step, an inch. I've barely thrown for a year. I've been away from the game because it's been too hard to try to stay around this time. The distance made me miss it and here I was back for a second game.

My knee felt ok. The rest of me was struggling a bit. I didn't seem to have an extra gear. That gear had been fading before last year. I tried to play smarter, but it's a lot easier to be smart when you're fast. Still, as we entered game two, I was contributing. The sun was shining and my new team was trying to figure out how to work together.

I kept volunteering to handle. It seemed to fill a need and it conserved some of my energy. I did get to catch one long pass deep. The throw was short and a female poached off her player to get in my lane. I started to jump and realized that she had position so I stayed grounded. She macked it and I ran it down, dumped it off and went in for the score. I threw a couple of flick hucks as well. A few times my disc golf grips confused me for a split-second, but overall those throws seemed to have helped my sense of power and distance. The first huck was swallowed by the wind, but the second one was in the other direction and drifted to my streaking teammate for the score. I tossed a few away as well.

We had a good half, but the game got away from us. I was not the only one running low on energy. Some soreness had started to creep in to my muscles as they recalled the effort it takes to play. It was a day like so many others with some good things and some bad.

I left with a smile one my face. It had been too long since I'd been on the field. Now, several days later, it almost feels like I could do it again.

Soon, very soon.

Resolutions

Resolved:

1. Visit 5 new non-Denver-metro area, Colorado locations
2. Push-ups every day (hopefully after more exercise)
3. Stretch every day

2014 by the numbers (a year of fewer logs)

Using last year as a guide:

• 66 books read (down 10 from last year) or 23,192 pages (down about 4,000 from last year)
• 103 movies watched (down 9, 2 fewer in theaters, 2 fewer re-runs)
• 1059 holes of disc golf in 58 rounds (down from 114) of disc golf at 13 different courses (7 new ones from last year)
• 3 aces at the new short Johnny Roberts on 9/4 hole 16, 10/14 hole 1, 12/18 hole 14
• 6 rounds of disc golf random draw doubles (although 2 were Cali/doubles alone) with Winter Warriors
• 16 meals of pizza
• 1 labored 10k
• 2 job applications
• 0 job interviews 
• 1 move down the street to a new old house
• 2 road trips, one to Missouri and one to Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks
• 1 family trip to San Diego
• 1 wedding trip to Wisconsin
• 9 states visited, none new
• 0 foreign countries visited, however we did go glamping in Montana. That's similar, right? 
• 1 wedding attended
• 0 Ultimate tournaments played 
• 1 torn ACL resulting in my first surgery and a long long long long recovery (ongoing)
• 184 miles of bike-riding across the plains of Colorado in 3 days

Books 2014

Another good year for reading, though not one for five-star efforts.

1. The Girl who was on Fire
2. The Rosie Project
3. Millionaire Teacher
4. The Lowland
5. Teacher Man
6. Truth in Advertising
7. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Future
8. The Picture of Dorian Gray
9. Long Lost
10. Lonesome Dove
11. David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the art of Battling Giants
12. The Curiosity
13. The Memory of Running
14. Suburban Nation
15. Little Bee
16. Inferno
17. The Circle
18. The Art of Travel
19. The Universe vs. Alex Woods
20. The Meaning of Sports
21. Screwball: A Novel
22. Stitches
23. Full Upright and Locked Position
24. The Jelly Effect
25. The Best American Short Stories 2012
26. The Wolf of Wall Street
27. The Diaries of Adam and Eve
28. Attachments
29. Play Dead
30. Skippy Dies
31. Hold Tight
32. The Millionaire Next Door
33. The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards
34. This is the story of a happy marriage
35. Top Dog: The Science of Winning and Losing
36. You Remind Me of Me
37. Frog Music
38. The Magician 
39. The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
40. True Evil
41. Landline
42. Pilgrims Wilderness: A true story of faith and madness on the Alaskan frontier
43. If only you people could follow directions
44. The Luminaries
45. Parentology
46. Think Like a Freak
47. The Power of Habit
48. Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, do they live forever?
49. The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.
50. The Financial Lives of Poets
51. Tenth of December
52. Jim Henson: The Biography
53. Sycamore Row
54. Let's Get Lost
55. Alif the Unseen
56. To Rise Again at a Decent Hour
57. Yes Please
58. The Buddha Walks into a bar
59. Start with Why
60. Dark Places
61. The Cuckoo's Calling
62. The Silkworm
63. Missing You
64. This is a book
65. Slow Man
66. Running with the Buffaloes

Most excited by The Lowland, Lonesome Dove, The Circle, The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P., The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards, Running with the Buffaloes.

Movies 2014

This doesn't include the many TV shows I also watched, but as tradition dictates, here we go:

1. Jobs
2. The Village Barbershop
3. Road Trip (re-watch)
4. The Internship
5. Finding Bliss
6. Bachelorettes (re-watch during chores)
7. Her (theater)
8. Monster University
9. The Heat
10. Cool Hand Luke (re-watch)
11. Last Vegas
12. Don Jon
13. Ender's Game
14. About Time
15. The English Teacher
16. Peace, Love, & Misunderstanding
17. Some Girl(s)
18. Lost in Translation (re-watch)
19. The Money Pit (re-watch)
20. Veronica Mars
21. To do List
22. Rush
23. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
24. The Names of Love
25. The Bling Ring
26. Splinterheads
27. A.C.O.D
28. Nebraska
29. The Book Thief
30. The Jane Austen Book Club
31. The Lone Ranger
32. Definitely Maybe (re-watch)
33. Thanks for Sharing
34. Back to the Future (re-watch)
35. Back to the Future III (re-watch)
36. Take me home tonight
37. 3 Idiots
38. Next
39. American Hustle
40. Saving Mr. Banks
41. Anchorman 2 (couldn't finish)
42. The Details
43. Sexting
44. World War Z
45. August: Osage County
46. The Wolverine
47. Boy (drifted in and out)
48. Happy Gilmore (re-watch)
49. Austenland
50. RIPD
51. Sleepless in Seattle (re-watch)
52. Non-Stop
53. The Grand Budapest Hotel
54. The Other Woman
55. Music & Lyrics (re-watch)
56. The Goonies (re-watch, Old Town square)
57. Much Ado about Nothing (Joss Whedon)
58. Terri
59. Frankie Go Boom
60. Dallas Buyers Club
61. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty
62. Thor: Lost World
63. The Night We Never Met (drifted in and out)
64. Lee Daniels "The Butler"
65. The Muppets Most Wanted
66. Elizabethtown (re-watch, re-suffer)
67. Mrs. Henderson Presents
68. Wolf of Wall Street (quit at 2 hours)
69. Hunger Games Catching Fire (re-watch, Old Town)
70. Captain Phillips
71. Divergent
72. The Other Guys
73. Delivery Man
74. Lola Versus
75. Monuments Men
76. Ghosts of Girlfriends Past
77. You will meet a tall dark stranger
78. Gone Girl (Theater)
79. The Way Way Back
80. Lego: The Movie
81. A League of Their Own (re-watch)
82. The Fault in Our Stars
83. Neighbors
84. Groundhog Day (re-watch)
85. The Brass Teapot
86. Herbie Rides Again (re-watch)
87. New York, I Love You
88. Draft Day
89. The Thomas Crowne Affair (re-watch)
90. How to Fall in Love
91. Sex Tape
92. Future Boyfriend
93. Acceptance
94. Detroit Unleaded
95. Bad Words
96. Love Actually (re-watch, Christmas tree)
97. The Love Bug (re-watch)
98. Begin Again
99. Guardians of the Galaxy
100. Hitched for the Holidays
101. Emmett Otter's Jug Band Christmas
102. I give it a year
103. Gravity

That's two in the theater (wow!) and twenty second or more viewings. There was lots of disappointment. Considerable recency bias, but Nebraska, The Way Way Back, The Brass Teapot, Gone Girl and Gravity strike me as the most memorable. 

A nicer Christmas Poem

Under the mistletoe
Santa and Mrs. Claus
meet an Elf on the Shelf

They share cookies and gossip
noting the naughty
but focusing on the nice

Rudolph slides in and
jumpstarts the party
Frosty arrives to sing
a tune

Where is Jesus?
He didn't RSVP
But that's ok

A nice Christmas Poem

What do you mean
all the icing tastes the same?

Green is mint
Red is cherry
Yellow is best

Food coloring has no flavor
added to white icing

Merry Christmas to you too, Mom

Excuse me sir, is that bandwagon full?

Baseball has faded in and out of my consciousness since the strike in 1994. I've had years where I was lenient in my punishment of the sport during the last twenty years, but the games I've been to in that time still number less than one per year. The arrival of baseball in Washington DC coincided with some of my leniency. The newness there was quickly replaced by talent and I attended a few more of the old ball games.

I always had some sense of the Royals during those years. My sense was that they weren't doing well. I'd read about their farm system and how great it was. It seemed possible with what little I know and how often I saw their best players, the only ones whose names I knew, they'd all ended up on someone else's successful roster.

I didn't tune in, certainly not on a transistor radio, and tracking standings is a fuzzy childhood breakfast memory that fell somewhere before the comics and after a cursory glance at the sports page headlines. The Internet has brought me back to the sports page headlines and baseball makes those headlines in the summer. I read the Washington Post and it tells the tales of the Nationals and the Orioles. The Nationals always felt like somebody else's team. And for a while somebody else's team was losing just like my old team, the Royals. The Orioles were somebody else's team. Baltimore is incredibly far away from DC, perhaps especially because it's only 40 miles away. The Post hyped the team and we all pinned our hopes on Strasburg and Harper and a team of Nats. Things got exciting, but my attention got diverted. Baseball was still there though. There were Cardinals games that had to be watched after wedding rehearsals. There were Phillies fans who tried to be more obnoxious than Boston fans who were trying to be more obnoxious than Yankees fans. I stayed out of that fray, only watching it in passing.

For some reason, I started to long for home. I bought a Royals hat, there in the 26th year without a playoff appearance. I didn't really tune in more, but I satisfied a need to identify where I was from. I wore the hat proudly. It's my favorite color and identifies my home. I could barely remember baseball success, but it was important to show my support, not necessarily to the Royals, but to Kansas City. Something about roots and the trees that grow ever taller.

I moved from DC out to Colorado. The hat became a conversation piece. People here know someone from KC or have a connection of their own. It wasn't too far away to consider. It was just far enough away to discuss. The conversations weren't always about the Royals and if they were I could hardly hold my own. Baseball hasn't been the same without my grandpa. He kept it interesting. He bought me that transistor radio. He listened to his own with one earpiece plugged in. He taught me how to keep score and had a loyalty to the Royals and to sports like no one else I knew. Baseball will always be connected in my mind with him.

About three weeks ago, I heard that the Royals might win their division. The paper no longer passes by my breakfast table and the standings don't seem as powerful or as easy to find on the Internet. I found myself starting to search for the standings. I started to check on those boys in blue to see how they were doing. They struggled against the Tigers and despite some late season drama lost the division lead, but earned a wild card bid.

The news that the Royals were in the playoffs for the first time in 29 years was a popular sports talk conversation. It's been so long since the Royals were in the playoffs that I didn't even realize that the Wildcard game was not a series, just a game. I went to bed before it was over and woke up to realize that the Royals had more playoffs to play.

I still haven't mustered the energy to find a game or even stay up to see one to its finish. I'll wear my hat proudly, wave my Facebook status updates, and keep checking on the team. I'm not the fan of baseball or the Royals that I once was (I don't even have a Royals watch any more), but if there's room on the bandwagon, I'm happy to jump on. These Royals look like they are having fun. I like a team having fun and I like an underdog story.

These guys might win me all the way over yet. If they don't, I wouldn't mind if they just won it all. I'm rooting for KC.

Pedal the Plains 2014- "My butt hurt too much to sit and my legs were too tired to stand"

There were the big themes of community, being an athlete, and self-propulsion. Those themes like my memories are just flashes. The pieces don't seem to add up to the whole, but the soreness in my legs and the reluctant smile on my face suggest there was so much more. More than the clanging of my fender, the stench of manure, the cornfields framing the road before opening up to blue sky that didn't end. Cyclists were ahead and behind (mostly ahead) as far as I could see and I was pedaling, pedaling, pedaling for 184 miles.

On Friday, Eagle, Dragon, and I (the Whippoorwill of the trip) met up with Hawk at the starting line of Wiggins. The town of 900 was flooded with cyclists unloading cars, registering and getting ready to pedal the plains. Post-introductory haikus, we got off to a leisurely start about an hour after a portion of the masses. We rolled slowly on soaking up the sun and the education and aid spots. I learned three things at the education stops that day:  1. Farmers (represented here) are opposed to proposition 105 because they would like federal standards for GMO labeling and because the inconsistencies across state lines in labeling can be costly. 2. That smell was sweet beets. 3. The job of Captain Corn-elius is a hot one.

We'd travel 34 miles in about 5.5 hours (less than 3 of ride time). The sun was warm which only contributed to the feeling that all of this was just a warm up.  We'd arrive in Fort Morgan for the first night's festivities. Those festivities included camping on a high school football field and showering in an increasingly stinky locker room. They also included the arrival of Snake with dinner. Eagle cooked up some fine burritos and we chowed down while the camp emptied to head to town. We'd make our way to town later to catch a few tunes care of the Atomic Drifters. The kids seemed to enjoy the show, or at least their light up whirly-birds. I've never seen so many toys flying through the air. It was more captivating than the car show.

We dodged the sprinklers that others had to battle late Friday night and enjoyed some of Eagle's oatmeal. We were out by 8:15 and behind most of the crowd. Saturday was the Century option day and there were some extra nerves to go around. Hawk was off early. Eagle, Snake, and I tried to give chase, but Snake quickly fell back into his own pace. I hung with Eagle for a bit and we were joined by a powerhouse of a man. I couldn't keep on pace with those two and fell into my own rhythm.

At the aid station in Brush! (the exclamation point is official, but has to be tongue-in-cheek, right?), I spotted Eagle and he headed out still trying to chase down Hawk. I enjoyed the Brush! food and drinks and waited a while to see if I'd spot Snake. We were all a little worried about Dragon because his bike and his fitness have been giving him some trouble, but figured the support in the ride was strong and he could ask for help if he needed it. Snake pulled up soon after and we rode off together. He was riding the century and had a plan. He couldn't dilly dally at aid stations if he was going to finish prior to the 6 PM course closure.

From Brush! I decided I should ride with Snake until my turn off. It was nice to ride with him and chat and have someone to root on. Our pace wasn't quite the same. I couldn't drag him up the hills and as a big guy he wasn't afforded the same drafting advantage I got from following him. Still I tried to help where I could and be supportive. The hills were frequent, the wind was blowing, and the hills kept coming more than I think most of us expected. My fender rattled and clanged on a rough section of road. Snake was lucky he wasn't near by then. Saturday was turning into a pretty tough day. I'd pulled away between aid stations, but then it all started to unravel. My water ran out. My stomach dropped out. I wondered where the next aid station would be. I pulled off and got a bite to eat. That helped me go the next 1.5 miles to the aid station. It got better from there, though still tough.

Snake and I regrouped at the aid station, both looking a little worse for the wear after 56 miles. We headed out again and pretty much stuck together. Fewer words were spoken. More time was spent just pedaling. The plains and the hills rolled by. We neared the 72 mile split and said our farewells. Snake asked if I was tempted to join him on the century. I was, but decided that 74 miles and a Sunday ride would still be plenty for me to handle.

I got to camp, spent a couple hours organizing, resting, and battling a headache before Hawk and Eagle arrived with Dragon. They arrived together as the century loop met up with the course. They all finished together in triumph. Snake would battle his way in alone at 5:41 PM. Right on schedule with his plan of attack. Everyone was exhausted but buoyant. Group decisions seemed harder to come by. Perhaps it was Sterling, but I think it was tired bodies and minds. Eventually Hawk and I ended up in town for an ok meal at Chef Charles BBQ wagon and a Sugar Beets Days that didn't strike our fancy. Sleep could not arrive quickly enough.

Sunday, we seemed to be moving toward an earlier departure. Snake was headed home. Dragon was planning to go with him and then changed his mind. He'd made it this far and he was going to go another 66 miles. It was a gutsy decision. In final preparations, Eagle realized that Dragon's rear wheel was dragging (hence the name) on his brakes. Adjustments and other delays ensued. There were about 5 tents and 20 riders left when we made our departure.

Hawk left us as we departed Sterling. We wouldn't see his powerful pedaling again. I was in no place to tag along. My legs had no go. I pedaled along with Dragon and Eagle and they got to experience the joy of my clanging fender and its annoying ongoing clatter. As if the sound wasn't enough, things with the fender really started to fall apart. I made a couple stops to try to fix things, but ended up pulling pieces off and stashing them for later. I got back up to those two which woke me up a little. I stopped at the aid station in Merino where I was charmed. I don't know if it was the one room metal town hall or the 3/4 size mural of a town that got me, but something was cool about the little town where they make/fix/sell amusement rides for fairs. I'm also partial to Merino because a nice tech (the second actually) made another fix on my fender. This one would hold until the end of the ride. The rattle wasn't all gone, but the danger was. The rattle was reduced enough that I could again be around people without embarrassment.

I left Eagle supporting Dragon a little after Merino feeling ok. After stops it was still taking a while to get back up to speed, but climbing the slightest of hills I finally found a bit of a groove. I chased down a guy, but just as I caught him to draft he tucked in with his slower group. He then chased me down a little while later and I let him draft for a bit. That good drafting karma would come in handy later. The miles to go clicked down below 50. The sidewind was sometimes a tailwind. The road was so smooth that my fender was almost silent. None of this could prevent all the riding I'd done from making its presence felt.

My mind was saying go. I was well fueled and had plenty of fluids, but things just weren't clicking along. Then my luck changed. A group of 3 passed me. They were ahead by 100 meters or more, but most have hit a lull or had trouble getting around some traffic, because with a little burst I was able to catch up and tuck in behind them. The lead guy was carrying the load. He led the group for half an hour or more. The second guy was a chatterbox, but it wasn't always clear who he was talking to. The third was a woman with headphones who seemed content to tuck in and ride in the wake. I joined the fun without asking. There wasn't quite enough road to stagger myself in the side wind, but I was getting enough benefit and motivation to stay with them. After quite a while, they pulled away and I thanked them for the lift. Later, they'd roll by again and I'd latch on again at their invitation. I don't know how many miles ticked away behind that group, but it was a huge help.

With 17 miles to go at a Cargill (meat solutions) aid station, I rested and refueled, but I was ready to be done.  I stretched, but didn't linger. I don't remember much from a lot of those miles. My butt hurt too much to sit and my legs were too tired to stand. I remember spying some towers that I hoped were the finish in Wiggins and I remember being passed by a large man. I know it's not a race, but that racing mentality has served me well. I kept the guy in my sights and was quite pleased to pass him before the end.

Now I've come to the finish where I had some pulled pork and waited to cheer Eagle and Dragon across the finish line. I wandered around in pain. I borrowed a cow bell and cheered them in.

All those words, all those miles and what I'm really saying is that it's a special thing to tackle a challenge with others. I might just give it another go next year.

August 21: Old Faithful and beyond

We woke up early and packed up a wet muddy tent and were off by 7:50. We stopped to admire the Grand Prismatic Springs, Black Sand Basin, and Excelsior Geyer (which actually erupted a bit) before catching Old Faithful under overcast skies. It wasn't ideal viewing for any of it, but there was something almost church-like in viewing Old Faithful with so many (100+?) others.

We then made our way out of Yellowstone, neglecting to stop for a bison with a lake behind him/her. Our only stops were the Haynes Old Photo Shop (awesome, if unfocused exhibit) and the Yellowstone sign for photos. We chose to press on to Cody for a late lunch. It's pretty in northwest Wyoming and Cody look like an Old West (and New West) town. We at at Rocky Mountain MoJoe, walked around town, and motored on. C did the bulk of the afternoon driving and after getting a little lost we arrived at our campground at Boulder Park.

The car seemed tired and the rain arrived on schedule, just as we did. Frustrated and bickering we set up the tent in the rain because I am tired of waiting for rain to stop. The inside got a little wet, but hopefully we can survive the night.

The rain stopped. I made a fire! C cooked spaghetti. The fire had a few fits and starts, but kindling appears to have been our previous downfall. It's going now. It cooked our banana boats and I'm sitting on a rock catching up on my journal. Night is falling, the creek is spraying off rocks and C is reading Tolstoy by the last of the daylight. She read me a passage that aptly compared marriage to boating. It isn't always easy or pretty, but I'm glad she's in my boat.

August 20: Big Horn Pass trail

Without watches, we got up and had our oatmeal on an overcast day. We went 20 feet behind our campsite and set out on the Big Horn Pass trail. I was packing bear spray was and was relieved to have it. The morning remained overcast and we were nearly along on the trail. It wound a mile or so through the woods before we crossed a creek. We elected to shed our boots and hunt for a shallow spot. The crossing was so cold and we were so slow from having to pick our way through the rocks of the creek bed that we decided to ford all future streams with boots on. We had several miles of fairly flat hiking in a rolling meadow. We felt comfortable that we'd see a bear coming. The clouds kept the heat away. Yellowstone was gorgeous from this vantage point. This was the way to enjoy it. We came to realize just how much New Zealand and Yellowstone/Teton have in common. Yellowstone wins on crowds.

We came to another creek and lost the trail. We wandered nervously in a group of trees, followed a false path and passed over a spot that looked like a large animal had recently rested in it. We picked our way around staying close to the creek when C spotted another group finding their way back to the trail. We abandoned our search and headed for where we'd seen the other group. They'd been on the right track and we reconnected with the trail. We soon passed the other group and they claimed GPS said we were 6 miles from the trailhead (5.5-ish from our starting spot). We couldn't confirm it, but didn't believe it. The trail was only 8.4 miles long. We re-entered woods and began to go up. We went about a mile when I discovered the freshest scat I'd seen. We decided that was as good a spot as any to turn around. We aren't sure it was bear, but it seems likely to me based on some of the other large droppings we saw.

We ate lunch with a view of what we think was Quadrant mountain. It was a good spot with a creek down the hill below and blue skies now framing our mountain view. We trekked back in the sunshine. I briefly abandoned landscape photography for butterfly and wildflower photos as we made our way back. Our last creek crossing was a wet one. Our boots haven't recovered a day later (good to know) although they've had very little opportunity to sit in the sun.

We broke our car embargo to return to Mammoth Hot Springs for a 3-buck shower, some elk watching and, of course, some ice cream. We returned to camp in the rain. We tried to wait it out, but eventually settled for Mexican crepes in the car (bananas, chocolate, peanut butter wrapped in a tortilla). I don't think it rained after dark, but the tent stayed wet. The night was warmer though. I didn't even need my stocking cap.

August 19: Glamping

I had a rough time sleeping on the cot in the tee-pee as expected. Horses came around to eat the grass near the tents and I tried to lie still while they ate. It was nerve-wracking. One chose the grass just on the other side of the canvas from my cot. I could hear it well, but the shadow of the horse's head confirmed the crap out of it. I finally slid to the floor of the tee-pee to get some sleep. I got up once to go to the bathroom. I found no horses, but did enjoy a star-filled sky.

I didn't get my morning swim in, but had enjoyed a chilly jump in before the previous evening's bonfire. It was refreshingly coooold! Post-jump the mosquitoes feasted on my flesh. Their hunger meant we didn't last long at the bonfire. Instead we chose to play Clue in our tee-pee. C broke M's winning streak, though I was nipping at her heels.

We were at the West Yellowstone visitor's center by 8. I was first through the door and got some camping advice. Our initial destination was full, but we found a place to stay at Indian Creek. M headed home. We got the tent set up and headed out to take in a few more sites. Mammonth Hot Springs was curious. Wraith FAlls was disappointing, although we did kick off our shoes for a while to cool our feet in the stream and drink our blackberry-flavored drinks. Tower Falls was pretty, the petrified tree didn't seem scary at all, and Yellowstone fatigue has set in. It's too big. There's too much. All this driving is no way to enjoy a park. Tomorrow we'll try to do better.

In fact, we purchased liquid gold bear spray so we can really get out and see some wildlife. I'm scared to have it, but the Big Horn Pass trail seems too obscure not to take it on. We did some see more elk and got some good photos of them grazing and playing in "town" at Mammoth Springs. Now it's dinner time, but our luck has run out and the rains have arrived. Hopefully it won't last.

August 17 and 18: GTNP to Yellowstone

Today we had the full Jenny Lake experience. We hiked clockwise around the lake, snapping photos and heading toward the Hidden Falls and Inspiration Point. We were never alone, especially as we neared the falls. Others were regularly being shuttled across the lake to join in the fun. The falls was pretty, but not very memorable. Inspiration Point had an all-encompassing view of Jenny Lake and gave the name Jackson Hole considerable context. We stayed at the point for lunch and then hiked the long section around continuing in our clockwise direction. With some help from hikers headed the other way, I saw an eagle's nest among the burnt trees.

We searched for a spot to swim, but couldn't find one. We returned to camp, changed into our swimsuits and set out clockwise again in search of a remembered rock. After another mile, we'd searched enough and settled on a swimming spot that seemed passable. After some coaxing everyone got in. The water was cold, fed by glaciers, but it felt refreshing too. Having swum, hiked, and camped Jenny Lake, we finished the day with bratwurst and less than stellar pie-iron peach cobbler. The biscuits didn't seem to work so well. Still, warm peaches aren't all bad. We closed out the day with Crazy 8's and Egyptian Rat Screw. M bested us in both.

8/18- We woke up early, but weren't able to break camp until 8:30. We left Grand Teton behind and made our way to Yellowstone. Our stops were frequent. We hiked to a natural bridge that lacked self-confidence, but with enthusiasm, I say, "It's like a miniature of the natural bridges in Utah." I've never been to the Utah bridges and my enthusiasm rings false.

The Upper Falls were impressive and Artist's Point was a palette of rock colors with a backdrop of river and falls. As we drove along, the river was often just off the road and it snaked and charmed its way into my heart. I kept hoping I'd see a bear catching a fish, but only managed a deer and some elk. (Speaking of elk, I heard a call as I wrote this entry. I only heard ambulance sirens as I typed it.)

We stopped to see Mud Volcano and other gaseous earth bubblers. M craved egg salad sandwiches, so our lunch by the river surely disappointed. We stopped to view some lounging bison and continued to pick and choose our gaseous bubbling spots. Around 3:30 we left Yellowstone to head to our accommodations in Montana.

We're in a camp called Yellowstone under tarp, no I mean Yellowstone Under Canvas. It's glamping- glamorous camping; but although kind of fun and curious, it also seems like a scam. We're in a tee-pee, 3 cots with sleeping bag and foam. The view from the tee-pee is big sky, gorgeous, but no food is allowed in the camp; they'd like us to go to their restaurant. I think we'll return to town instead.

We had dinner at the slippery otter. The girls got IDed, but the bartender "had seen me there before". Guess my doppleganger is enjoying some sweet scenery.

I have high hopes for the bonfire and a morning swim. This place looks like it might be fun in a big group. It will be fun in a small group. I'm just a cheapskate who prefers the floor. The shower was great, the big tents look fancy with queen beds and stoves. It's good to confirm now and again that I'm a tent guy.

August 15-16: Grand Teton National Park

We left from Fort Collins, hostel de parents, at 8:22 AM. We were a caravan of 2, C and I in Tobias and M in her Honda. The day was mostly driving in Wyoming. At times it was scenic. M took most of the lead and guided us to Grand Teton National Park (GTNP). We stayed in an expensive cabin with a shower. Maybe I prefer camping because I end up sleeping on the floor anyway.

We carpooled to an overlook, Willow Flats, and snapped photos of Mount Moran and debated whether it was the Grand Teton or not. We then headed over to the Jackson lodge and had dinner at the Blue Heron (bar? grill?) which had 40-foot windows and a view of Mount Moran. We all had local beer, I had a brown ale from Idaho, and scarfed down dinner. We crashed early and began our Ben Franklin ways.

8/16- Early to rise, 5 AM, we made our way around Colter Bay in the darkness. M wanted sunrise photos and somehow talked C into getting up early. No one else was out. I think we were a little early and a little frightened that we might stumble across a bear. The beware of bears signs are everywhere and sunrise alone seemed like prime time to startle one.

We started snapping photos at the hint of first light and didn't stop,  except to walk the trail to find a new spot, until the earth had spun well into morning. I got 3 good photos from the batch.

We checked out of the cabin and hustled over to the Jenny Lake campground with the news that it was not yet crazy. The most popular of the the park campgrounds, it is a tent-only, first-come first-serve area in the shadow of the Grand Teton (or perhaps a lesser known mountain which blocks the view of it). We circled the campground like vultures and settled on site 43. We can see the nipple through the trees. We claimed the site, but had to wait a couple hours for the current occupants to vacate. With a fear of site poachers provided by the campground host, we circled the nearby outlooks and began the early series of M jumping and yoga in front of mountain scenery. By about 11:30, we had our tents up on site and were headed to Jackson.

I had a vision of Jackson subs and the first lunch-appropriate restaurant we saw was a sub shop. Taking the vision seriously we scared down subs and made our plan. Our plan needed ice cream. Jackson was a smaller, fancier Gatlinburg. The Asian tourists were out in force. Although the town square had a small park framed by antler arches, the quirkiness was offset by luxury goods- fine art galleries, Svarski crysals, and Moo's ice cream. We could only luxuriate so much and each had a scoop from Moo's. We shopped a bit in other expensive, but less luxurious shops and then headed to the river with Teton Adventures Rafting Company.

We'd go 8 miles in our 14 person boat on the Snake River. M started off nervous, but quickly became a fan. There's something about rafting that makes me want to say yes. The guide Brenton asked for a paddle master- I volunteered. He asked if anyone wanted to ride the bull, up front with feet dangling- I volunteered. Later he asked if anyone wanted to run the boat- again, I volunteered. He used oars to guide the boat and I struggled to master the paddles and use them both, but I started to get it in the end. I missed my shot at some rapids. Next time. We bounced through some great rapids, including Big Kahuna after I'd returned to passenger duties.

We swam, we tried to ride a spinning raft. It was all kinds of fun. I was shivering a bit by the end, but happy. It had been a good day and the Snake River had been the highlight. We arrived back at our car later than expected and chose Merry Piglets, a Mexican restaurant, for sustenance rather than grocery shopping and dinner in the dark. It was tasty, especially the Spicy Jalapeno margarita. We crashed in the tents and woke up to the sound of the road, chipmunks, and that day's camp site vultures.

July 2014 in San Diego

A journal entry: 

It is Thursday and vacation is nearly over, but I'm going to try to recount a few highlights. We're at the beach in front of Hotel Del Coranado, but that's not where the adventure starts. We started a little rocky as both C and I failed to factor in rain, Friday traffic, and checking baggage into our airport trip plans. We arrived to a long line at 6 for our 6:45 flight. We sent my stressed parents on ahead and we checked everyone's bags. The gate agent gave us stand by tickets and sent our luggage to Las Vegas. Flight delays meant that we made our original flight, but without our bags. They'd arrive at about 1:30 AM. Fortunately, the house near the sea was also near the airport.

The first day was a family beach day as second cousins, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, wives, husbands, etc. stayed quite a while at Mission Beach testing our sunscreen and letting the girls get adjusted to the ocean. They got a little braver every day. We got to see J and S for the second year in a row. They treated us to lunch at a beachside restaurant. It was great to see them.

Sunday we the beach again. This was La Jolla Beach and we brought out the boogie boards. Inside the house, the ants had attacked, but were mostly held at by spray, chalk, and complaints.

Monday most of the crowd hit sea World. C and I went to the Gaslamp Quarter. It's a night spots and we arrived well into the morning. I was very disappointed in the gas lamps and only mildly interested in our guidebook's walking tours. The most interesting aspect was that the area once well known for brothels now houses a Hooters, a Coyote Ugly, and several other mudflap-worthy establishments.

C and I napped the afternoon away and then she made lasagna for dinner. We are the pasta people. We got to meet all the Sea World souvenirs that night. All the second cousins seem to get on well and it's fun to be together.

Tuesday was Legoland. The others did well for back to back amusements. M dug the roller coaster. P is not so sure. My favorite part of Legoland was MiniLand. I spent a long time searching DC legos for familiar sites. The NYC subway was also pretty great. We closed the park down to Beck's delight. We then hit up In and Out Burger for a late supper. Kevin gave me tips on the secret menu so I had animal fries with my double-double and a shake. They were good, but I felt my arteries closing. P talked all the way home, but everyone else was asleep or practically there.

Wednesday was a quiet day at Ocean Beach, the closest beach to our house. The boogie boarding was really good, but the seaweed was thick. The F's came down from Newport Beach and took us out to the Venetian for dinner. We filled a banquet room and had a good family Italian meal with even better company. There was something special about catching up with distant family. I don't think T hears as well as he once did, but he remains quite jovial. I've always thought N was great and thoroughly enjoyed talking to her when J wasn't spinning his tales. Their son J seemed intimidated by the big crowd. I really enjoyed talking to JF. I can't explain what was so pleasing about the evening, but I didn't want it to end. Maybe that's why we played games until way too late that evening after the others left.

Everyone seemed tired on Thursday, but we returned to the beach and soldiered on. Vacation ended too quickly, but we had a great mini-FOG reunion.