I got a new camera! Been a long time since I got a new camera. Zip back to 2000 when I got a Canon G1. I paid over $900 dollars for it. Got a ton of accessories and batteries and packs, blah blah blah. I still have that camera. I can still take infrared pics with it at least. There's one on ebay with 4 bids for 10 bucks. The latest version is the G12 and it tops out at the market high end price of $500 dollars.
I just wanted the smallest and lightest camera I could get. I was using my wife's Canon A70 for a while. Crude, but for a snapshot it was fine. It was just too big for cycling or running, not to mention a complete battery hog. My new camera is a Nikon S3000 which only weighs 4.1 ounces with a battery. It's as small as it gets, about the size of a credit card and half an inch thick. The pic quality is decent enough and the price was 130.00, which was very decent.
So expect more pics in the coming weeks. Maybe even some video.
Oh and I think Nicole is losing all organization. Tell that to the people in Wilmington! But for the Gulf area, good thing my Nostradamus skills are bogus. Course I didn't give an exact plus or minus, and I say there is still an open prediction of formation till sunday which is unlikely thank goodness.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Halloween Costumes
Whoever dresses up like Johnny Depp's mad hatter is out of his mind!
Have you seen the lack of imagination in womens' costumes? Ughhh how about a nun top , but lets make the lower half a super short skirt and call it party nun. Jeez... Halloween is pretty sexist. Was it always this way? I mean look at Avatar costumes. I think Jake Sully should be sportin some blue leotards too! What? no skin tight Dr. Manhattan outfit pumped and lumped in all the right places? Nope, just clogged artery hands and a mask. Those gloves are funny. They'd make for some funny skits.
Have you seen the lack of imagination in womens' costumes? Ughhh how about a nun top , but lets make the lower half a super short skirt and call it party nun. Jeez... Halloween is pretty sexist. Was it always this way? I mean look at Avatar costumes. I think Jake Sully should be sportin some blue leotards too! What? no skin tight Dr. Manhattan outfit pumped and lumped in all the right places? Nope, just clogged artery hands and a mask. Those gloves are funny. They'd make for some funny skits.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Mountain Run 2
Forest Gump is a movie that always gets me. I'm can just start watching at any part and feel good about it. Funny how that works.
So my Friday run was canceled. I knew Asa's school had 'Western Day" planned for Friday ( she wore a cowboy outfit), but I found out when I dropped her off that they were having a show at 3pm. No way I could've gotten back in time had I gone to the mountain. Which turned out fine, cuz I was feeling cruddy on Friday anyway.
I did watch Les Stroud's new show on survival where he hangs out with primitive cultures to see how they survive. He hung out with Sea Gypsies off the coast of China. I forgot how much I like Les. Those sea gypsies have a hard life indeed. It's a great show to watch especially if you liked Survivorman.
So I got up early this Saturday morning to hit the mountain. It's so odd for me to get up specifically to run ,it almost makes me nervous like I am going to a race. Ate some fruit and bread, filled up 80 oz of liquid in 3 containers. Packed a banana, peanut butter sandwich, an apple, a lot of other odd items , and off I went.
I went a different way than normal. Instead of going up all the switchbacks to get to the top, I drive a little further and just go up one long road, about 15 miles straight up. I passed about 15 cyclists on this road. I go way around them too, because these guys are just grinding it nonstop uphill the entire way. I think that's gotta be a sunofabitchof a ride! I did see one woman running downhill. She looked fit as could be from shoulder to calves and was moving at a good pace too. I have to wonder where her starting and stopping points are. A crazy thing was on the way home I saw a guy in full battle dress uniform, including a hat and camelback running through the cactus where there is no trail. This was at noon too in the hotter portion of the desert. I thought that guy is training from something hardcore like badwater or Green Beret school.
It's the weekend and there are a lot more people on the mountain today. I've decided to go to the other trailhead and see what that portion of the trail is like. I've brought my Brooks Mach 11's with me today. I tried on 2 pairs of La Sportiva trail runners at REI and man they both felt really good. The Crosslites feel a lot like the mach 11 only with big rubber nubbies on the sole. I managed to refrain from buying the Sportivas on the thought that I'd try the machs first.
I'd done a lot of reading and pondering on how to carry liquid. A camelback just seems better built for a bike or hiking with the straps on the shoulders. Another option are various waist packs that hold bottles on your back or waist. I was all set to get one of these, but you really have to wear the belt on the outside of your shirt, which I don't think I'd like. So I went the cheap route. 2 cycling water bottles holding 24oz each. It's all about symmetry. Most people don't like the sloshing and your arms do get a little tired, but it didn't bother me so much last week.
This other side of the trail is completely different than last week. Last week was a mostly 6ft wide path of rocks and gravel, that while bumpy was fairly uniform. This upper side is thin, much more technical with huge rocks and roots, very steep in some places, lots of very uneven footing twisting all over the place. Going up on a mountain bike would be crazy hard I think. The first mile and a half was really difficult. I was out of breath a lot with a lot of walking. I felt like I was climbing bleacher steps in many places. Some of the downhill areas came to just a foot wide on jaggy rock. I made sure to walk on that. If you slipped off it wouldn't be certain death, but a high chance of something being broken or sprained.
Soon I started to get some groove going and then it hit me. I have to pee!! I couldn't see a good place to go either. There were lots of people out as I could hear them talking. I'd have to be quick. I saw a big rock up ahead and thought why not. I started ascending up this loose soil slope trying to step on craggy rock. After about 10 feet, my stupid light came on. I looked back down and thought, ok this is nuts. This is sprain my ankle city. So back down I went and onward I went. Luckily the urge went away for a while.
I met several dogs today. All of them very nice. One looked as if it had a Corgi head, a bassett butt and tail and was colored like a dark german shepherd. Very cool dog! One dog started running along behind me for a while. I never did see his owner. I didn't come across another runner the whole time. Lots of hikers though of all ages. I passed 2 guys and I heard one say, "I remember when I could do that." Then I came behind 2 hispanic guys with hiking poles. One of them whips around with his pole like he was being snuck up on by an attacker. His face had a big smile though and he made a noise like gotcha! I laughed my ass off at this. Totally unexpected funny for me it was. I ran past 4 hispanic women sitting on a log and I heard one of them say, "oooh so healthy". I don't feel like I'm a super healthy person or anything. I'm pretty slow when it comes to running imo, but running through the mountain today, people look at me like I'm crazy and super fit. It's kinda cool I guess. I finally went down a side hill and peed behind a big tree. Had to get some rocks out of my shoes too.
I ended up just running the whole trail back to the trailhead from last week. I figured I'd just run up the road to the other trailhead. Jeez that was hard getting on pavement and going up really steep hills. Lots of walking that was. I got back to my truck and put up my water bottles and decided to go on the trail again for about 20 min. I ran really fast at first psyched to have my hands free, but got out of breath really quick again. 9000 feet is hard!
Walking in a section of yellow leaved aspens though is really nice. It's a nice serene glow with warmth to it. I saw a sign on a tree and stopped to read it. It was a paper with a picture of a man. I can't remember his name, but someone was thanking him for showing them more to life. A strange memorial really. As I stood there, it occurred to me that it was really quiet and I could hear my own heartbeat very well. I was pretty amazed that I could hear it so clearly. Can't remember the last time that happened.
Soon I decided I'd had enough and went back to the truck to eat and stretch a bit. I walked up the street and took this pic of the area. ( psst click on it!)
My quads don't feel quite as obliterated as last week. But my ankles are none too happy. We shall see how they feel tomorrow. I'm torn over getting those Sportiva shoes, the grip would be welcomed in some spots but maybe not so much in others. Seems there is no perfect shoe either. Anyway, I should be ready for the Leadville100 by next year (insert maniacal Santa laughter right here!)
So my Friday run was canceled. I knew Asa's school had 'Western Day" planned for Friday ( she wore a cowboy outfit), but I found out when I dropped her off that they were having a show at 3pm. No way I could've gotten back in time had I gone to the mountain. Which turned out fine, cuz I was feeling cruddy on Friday anyway.
I did watch Les Stroud's new show on survival where he hangs out with primitive cultures to see how they survive. He hung out with Sea Gypsies off the coast of China. I forgot how much I like Les. Those sea gypsies have a hard life indeed. It's a great show to watch especially if you liked Survivorman.
So I got up early this Saturday morning to hit the mountain. It's so odd for me to get up specifically to run ,it almost makes me nervous like I am going to a race. Ate some fruit and bread, filled up 80 oz of liquid in 3 containers. Packed a banana, peanut butter sandwich, an apple, a lot of other odd items , and off I went.
I went a different way than normal. Instead of going up all the switchbacks to get to the top, I drive a little further and just go up one long road, about 15 miles straight up. I passed about 15 cyclists on this road. I go way around them too, because these guys are just grinding it nonstop uphill the entire way. I think that's gotta be a sunofabitchof a ride! I did see one woman running downhill. She looked fit as could be from shoulder to calves and was moving at a good pace too. I have to wonder where her starting and stopping points are. A crazy thing was on the way home I saw a guy in full battle dress uniform, including a hat and camelback running through the cactus where there is no trail. This was at noon too in the hotter portion of the desert. I thought that guy is training from something hardcore like badwater or Green Beret school.
It's the weekend and there are a lot more people on the mountain today. I've decided to go to the other trailhead and see what that portion of the trail is like. I've brought my Brooks Mach 11's with me today. I tried on 2 pairs of La Sportiva trail runners at REI and man they both felt really good. The Crosslites feel a lot like the mach 11 only with big rubber nubbies on the sole. I managed to refrain from buying the Sportivas on the thought that I'd try the machs first.
I'd done a lot of reading and pondering on how to carry liquid. A camelback just seems better built for a bike or hiking with the straps on the shoulders. Another option are various waist packs that hold bottles on your back or waist. I was all set to get one of these, but you really have to wear the belt on the outside of your shirt, which I don't think I'd like. So I went the cheap route. 2 cycling water bottles holding 24oz each. It's all about symmetry. Most people don't like the sloshing and your arms do get a little tired, but it didn't bother me so much last week.
This other side of the trail is completely different than last week. Last week was a mostly 6ft wide path of rocks and gravel, that while bumpy was fairly uniform. This upper side is thin, much more technical with huge rocks and roots, very steep in some places, lots of very uneven footing twisting all over the place. Going up on a mountain bike would be crazy hard I think. The first mile and a half was really difficult. I was out of breath a lot with a lot of walking. I felt like I was climbing bleacher steps in many places. Some of the downhill areas came to just a foot wide on jaggy rock. I made sure to walk on that. If you slipped off it wouldn't be certain death, but a high chance of something being broken or sprained.
Soon I started to get some groove going and then it hit me. I have to pee!! I couldn't see a good place to go either. There were lots of people out as I could hear them talking. I'd have to be quick. I saw a big rock up ahead and thought why not. I started ascending up this loose soil slope trying to step on craggy rock. After about 10 feet, my stupid light came on. I looked back down and thought, ok this is nuts. This is sprain my ankle city. So back down I went and onward I went. Luckily the urge went away for a while.
I met several dogs today. All of them very nice. One looked as if it had a Corgi head, a bassett butt and tail and was colored like a dark german shepherd. Very cool dog! One dog started running along behind me for a while. I never did see his owner. I didn't come across another runner the whole time. Lots of hikers though of all ages. I passed 2 guys and I heard one say, "I remember when I could do that." Then I came behind 2 hispanic guys with hiking poles. One of them whips around with his pole like he was being snuck up on by an attacker. His face had a big smile though and he made a noise like gotcha! I laughed my ass off at this. Totally unexpected funny for me it was. I ran past 4 hispanic women sitting on a log and I heard one of them say, "oooh so healthy". I don't feel like I'm a super healthy person or anything. I'm pretty slow when it comes to running imo, but running through the mountain today, people look at me like I'm crazy and super fit. It's kinda cool I guess. I finally went down a side hill and peed behind a big tree. Had to get some rocks out of my shoes too.
I ended up just running the whole trail back to the trailhead from last week. I figured I'd just run up the road to the other trailhead. Jeez that was hard getting on pavement and going up really steep hills. Lots of walking that was. I got back to my truck and put up my water bottles and decided to go on the trail again for about 20 min. I ran really fast at first psyched to have my hands free, but got out of breath really quick again. 9000 feet is hard!
Walking in a section of yellow leaved aspens though is really nice. It's a nice serene glow with warmth to it. I saw a sign on a tree and stopped to read it. It was a paper with a picture of a man. I can't remember his name, but someone was thanking him for showing them more to life. A strange memorial really. As I stood there, it occurred to me that it was really quiet and I could hear my own heartbeat very well. I was pretty amazed that I could hear it so clearly. Can't remember the last time that happened.
Soon I decided I'd had enough and went back to the truck to eat and stretch a bit. I walked up the street and took this pic of the area. ( psst click on it!)
My quads don't feel quite as obliterated as last week. But my ankles are none too happy. We shall see how they feel tomorrow. I'm torn over getting those Sportiva shoes, the grip would be welcomed in some spots but maybe not so much in others. Seems there is no perfect shoe either. Anyway, I should be ready for the Leadville100 by next year (insert maniacal Santa laughter right here!)
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Crackin Teeth
Guess I should sort my beans better. I bit down on a tiny rock today. Holy ouch! Felt like I cracked a whole tooth out of my mouth. You can imagine the horror I had for a split second upon running to the bathroom mirror and looking at my upper left molars seeing what looked to be a huge chunk of something hanging off. Oops, just a piece of chewed up uneaten bean that was stuck to my teeth. Durrrrr.
I watched The Cove yesterday. It's a documentary film about the slaughter of dolphins in Japan. It's filmed and put together very well. The music, the timing of tensions, the editing that puts a laughing Japanese fisherman in frame right after watching a dolphin bleeding out and sinking below the surface all come together to evoke a powerful emotional response. I admit, I tend to anthromorphisize dolphins, and the movie had me in teared up knots by its end.
Aside from the obvious ugliness of the slaughter, there are other crucial issues such as the extremely high levels of mercury in Dolphins and Japan's history with mercury poisoning followed by the idea that the Japanese meat industry sells mercury rich dolphin meat as whale meat. Supposedly the Japanese government is covering up this fact. Seems kind of sketchy to me, but after hearing about the government's treatment of survivors from Hiroshima and Nagaski, maybe it's true.
There's still this loose understanding of how the Japanese culture, their history, and traditions continue to support their efforts to hunt whale and other cetaceans. Is it really just to give the western governments the finger, so to speak? It seems like the Japanese are far too practical for such an emotional grudge. But I'm no expert so who knows.
There's no denying though that the movie produces heated debate about animal rights, culture, and animal intelligence. Ultimately, it just makes me feel a bit more guilty for being a carnivore.
I watched The Cove yesterday. It's a documentary film about the slaughter of dolphins in Japan. It's filmed and put together very well. The music, the timing of tensions, the editing that puts a laughing Japanese fisherman in frame right after watching a dolphin bleeding out and sinking below the surface all come together to evoke a powerful emotional response. I admit, I tend to anthromorphisize dolphins, and the movie had me in teared up knots by its end.
Aside from the obvious ugliness of the slaughter, there are other crucial issues such as the extremely high levels of mercury in Dolphins and Japan's history with mercury poisoning followed by the idea that the Japanese meat industry sells mercury rich dolphin meat as whale meat. Supposedly the Japanese government is covering up this fact. Seems kind of sketchy to me, but after hearing about the government's treatment of survivors from Hiroshima and Nagaski, maybe it's true.
There's still this loose understanding of how the Japanese culture, their history, and traditions continue to support their efforts to hunt whale and other cetaceans. Is it really just to give the western governments the finger, so to speak? It seems like the Japanese are far too practical for such an emotional grudge. But I'm no expert so who knows.
There's no denying though that the movie produces heated debate about animal rights, culture, and animal intelligence. Ultimately, it just makes me feel a bit more guilty for being a carnivore.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Canis Lupus
I recently decided to get my credit card a new look. After a security breach earlier this year, I had been reissued the standard plain jane card. Normally, I would always get some kind of crazy geometric shapes on my card. It's always when I go into a small town and end up at a place like Wendy's and the person working the counter will take my card and stop, hold it up, and say 'wow! that is one crazy looking card." Well, this time as I was scrolling through, the card with a picture of a Wolf stuck out to me. Ya know, those Wolf Eyes, that stare. Did you know they tilt their heads down slightly to ensure that the strip of their retinas with the most receptors is fully used?
So yah, the Wolf stare is an amazing thing. It seems to catapult them from wild animal to an old intelligence that can see into your soul. No?
I was at the BX the other day and the woman working at the register was sitting down. She was overweight, with short reddish hair, and large red tinted glasses. She's says, "cash, credit, or debit?" I tell her credit and hand over my card. She takes it from me and pauses for 2 whole seconds and then breathes in and says, "oh my goodness! Can you believe I have the very same card?!!!" She points to her name tag and her name is......... Wolfina!!!!!
She asks me if I am a 'wolf lover'. Asa is listening to this conversation as well as the two other people in line behind me. What would you say to this? I decided to say 'yahhhhh' in a positive tone while nodding my head in a manner that said 'yes I think so'. Wolfina asks me if I am up to speed on the current struggles of wolves. I say ever so innocently, noooo. So she stops and prints out some paper to write down a web address for me. She tells me about how Wolves are being shot by farmers and that there's a program that will come in and pay the farmers fair maket value for any damage and peacefully remove the wolves.
You can go here to see this web site!
Finally, Wolfina encourages me to come through her line again. She has "so much more to tell me" and that meeting another Wolf lover is so rare these days. Holy cow , what did I get myself into? I admire her passion for the wolves, but I was glad I didn't have to go through her line again.
So yah, the Wolf stare is an amazing thing. It seems to catapult them from wild animal to an old intelligence that can see into your soul. No?
I was at the BX the other day and the woman working at the register was sitting down. She was overweight, with short reddish hair, and large red tinted glasses. She's says, "cash, credit, or debit?" I tell her credit and hand over my card. She takes it from me and pauses for 2 whole seconds and then breathes in and says, "oh my goodness! Can you believe I have the very same card?!!!" She points to her name tag and her name is......... Wolfina!!!!!
She asks me if I am a 'wolf lover'. Asa is listening to this conversation as well as the two other people in line behind me. What would you say to this? I decided to say 'yahhhhh' in a positive tone while nodding my head in a manner that said 'yes I think so'. Wolfina asks me if I am up to speed on the current struggles of wolves. I say ever so innocently, noooo. So she stops and prints out some paper to write down a web address for me. She tells me about how Wolves are being shot by farmers and that there's a program that will come in and pay the farmers fair maket value for any damage and peacefully remove the wolves.
You can go here to see this web site!
Finally, Wolfina encourages me to come through her line again. She has "so much more to tell me" and that meeting another Wolf lover is so rare these days. Holy cow , what did I get myself into? I admire her passion for the wolves, but I was glad I didn't have to go through her line again.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
No way!
Things always happen when watching The Soup it seems. Our house is right next to a street that goes through the whole neighborhood. It's rarely busy as we are on the outskirts of suburbia. Last night though we heard a vehicle scream down the street. Not a big deal. But then another rrrrrrrrreeeeeehhhhhhmmmmmnnnnnnnn goes on by. Liz and I look at each other with slanty eyes and word bubbles floating around with WTF in them. Minutes later we hear a helicopter flying around. Again, not a big deal because this is probably the third time a helicopter has come back in our neighborhood late at night with it's spotlight. I also receive a local paper which clearly shows the crime in our area is many blocks south of us.
That's when we heard some gunshots! Or was it? We both went to look out the window. There's a lot of activity going on outside. I go upstairs to get a better view. There are at least 4 police cars spread out with lights on and our whole backyard just got lit up by the helicopter spotlight. My crazy neighbor (always have one of those!) is outside with a toddler on his shoulders looking around while his buddy is smoking next to him. His buddy drives a uber beater 80s Monte Carlo.
We on the other hand do not venture outside and instead arm the security system. I can remember as a kid when I heard a commotion outside my bedroom window like someone cutting the corner and running right through mother's azaleas. The next day there was a set of huge footprints in the ground. Whoever was running was pounding it for dear life. As he should have been with all the police cars outside that night. I want to say there was a local story about a convict escaped from the Niceville jail that very night.
The heilcopter continued to fly low and around our house, lighting up the whole street with its spotlight. I wonder if they have thermal cams on board? Then we a voice coming over a loud speaker. Is it the helicopter or a squad car? It says, "Come on out now..come on" followed by a flurry of Spanish words. I laughed thinking, no way in hell I'd come out to that voice. That voice was really saying come out so I can shoot you.
Suddenly a big white suv flew out of the church parking lot nearby. Apparently he was hiding in the dark. He was headed right for an intersection with a police car blocking the perpendicular lane. The cop must have gotten in or something because he literally rammed the truck. Corner to corner and smash!! We are watching all of this from our bedroom window. You then see 2 men come out from the SUV , one from each side as they run out of view. Then a police officer on foot is running after them coming from the direction of where the truck was originally. The helicopter is all over this now and from a bullhorn you hear those words you always hear in movies. "Stop now or we'll shoot", followed by spanish again. We can only see the helicopter and then we hear several shots fire. Several more police vehicles come down the road. It's a flashing red and blue circus! My neighbors are still outside with a kid!
Ok none of the above paragraph really happened. But that's what was going through my mind. In reality, we just watched the police cars for a while. Our other neighbor has a big plastic dumpster in their backyard. Liz says, what if whoever they are after was hiding in there? I look at the creepy box in the shadows. I say'You want me to light it up?" We laugh thinking that would be crazy if someone came rushing out of that thing. At one point, the police cars finally moved on. The neighbors finally went inside. Vegas still has some crazy though.
That's when we heard some gunshots! Or was it? We both went to look out the window. There's a lot of activity going on outside. I go upstairs to get a better view. There are at least 4 police cars spread out with lights on and our whole backyard just got lit up by the helicopter spotlight. My crazy neighbor (always have one of those!) is outside with a toddler on his shoulders looking around while his buddy is smoking next to him. His buddy drives a uber beater 80s Monte Carlo.
We on the other hand do not venture outside and instead arm the security system. I can remember as a kid when I heard a commotion outside my bedroom window like someone cutting the corner and running right through mother's azaleas. The next day there was a set of huge footprints in the ground. Whoever was running was pounding it for dear life. As he should have been with all the police cars outside that night. I want to say there was a local story about a convict escaped from the Niceville jail that very night.
The heilcopter continued to fly low and around our house, lighting up the whole street with its spotlight. I wonder if they have thermal cams on board? Then we a voice coming over a loud speaker. Is it the helicopter or a squad car? It says, "Come on out now..come on" followed by a flurry of Spanish words. I laughed thinking, no way in hell I'd come out to that voice. That voice was really saying come out so I can shoot you.
Suddenly a big white suv flew out of the church parking lot nearby. Apparently he was hiding in the dark. He was headed right for an intersection with a police car blocking the perpendicular lane. The cop must have gotten in or something because he literally rammed the truck. Corner to corner and smash!! We are watching all of this from our bedroom window. You then see 2 men come out from the SUV , one from each side as they run out of view. Then a police officer on foot is running after them coming from the direction of where the truck was originally. The helicopter is all over this now and from a bullhorn you hear those words you always hear in movies. "Stop now or we'll shoot", followed by spanish again. We can only see the helicopter and then we hear several shots fire. Several more police vehicles come down the road. It's a flashing red and blue circus! My neighbors are still outside with a kid!
Ok none of the above paragraph really happened. But that's what was going through my mind. In reality, we just watched the police cars for a while. Our other neighbor has a big plastic dumpster in their backyard. Liz says, what if whoever they are after was hiding in there? I look at the creepy box in the shadows. I say'You want me to light it up?" We laugh thinking that would be crazy if someone came rushing out of that thing. At one point, the police cars finally moved on. The neighbors finally went inside. Vegas still has some crazy though.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
First Mountain Run
Who knew that shortly after waking up Friday morning I would commit a heinous verbal atrocity against someone I don't know, and who is probably perfectly innocent. An accidental asshole is still an asshole no?
I won't go into detail about that event, but after I realized how insensitive I had been, my morning had become clenched and irrational. My dog doesn't care about such things though. He's just excited because he knows when the crazy small human goes away, he gets a long walk. So I put on my vibrams and out the door we went. We walked a new route this morning straight towards the mountain range. This brought us into a good bit of desert. I have to really be careful where I walk at this point because it's the outskirts and there is a lot of glass, rock and other odd debris here. Our walk soon brought us back into sidewalk land, but it turned out to be longer than I had planned. An hour had passed , over 2.5 miles in distance ,and Finley looked really thirsty.
My ankles had been feeling a little creaky. Wednesday I decided that aerobic base training or heart rate under 145 time was over. I tore my heart rate monitor off and sprinted my fool head off for a half mile or so and then finished my long run at a higher than normal pace. It felt so amazing to do this. I'm a sprinter right? Back to the the beginnings and it felt so wonderful. My ankles if they had faces though, would've been squinty eyed with lips pursed slowly shaking their heads from side to side. The morning walk with Finley though told me that my ankles were just being whiny. They were fine.
I had already been planning to go find a trail to run today, but I couldn't stop beating myself up for being such a moron earlier. I felt a another creak in my right ankle and a voice in my head said maybe you should just lay down, watch some tv and repent. I needed to eat anyway, so I fueled up and contemplated my day. After much personal debate, I decided that I would go to the mountains today and find a trail to run on.
It takes about an hour to drive to the Spring Mountains. I stopped at the visitors center and picked up a map. I asked the old white lady with white puffy hair and a band aide over her right eye what trail they recommend for running, ya know, not too steep with smaller rocks. She recommended the Bristlecone trail. Sounds like a winner. I drove up the mountain side blasting music trying to let myself feel the cooler crisp air, to enjoy the fact that I was at the mountain alone for the first time, but a certain member of my mental committee was still waving his stick in the air, glaring at me, shaking his head in disgust. All of this left a serious look on my face that was the tip of what was now a lot of swelling anger inside me.
I had texted Liz earlier that I was entering the mountain range. I had no signal now and wouldn't for some time. There's this element of danger here which is new for me and slightly unsettling. I've seen and read far too many survival shows/stories that show just how a few small bad things can come together to put a world of hurt on you quickly. My anger helped quell whatever hesitations I may have had though.
I had reached the Bristlecone trailhead. I got out and put my shoes on. I decided to use my Nike Frees since out of all my shoes, I think they offer the most stability. I walked over to the trailhead board and looked at the path I was about to embark on. Seems simple enough. I walked back to my truck to put my belt pack on, carrying my car key, a lighter, a swiss army knife, and my cell phone. (ya never know) Then I put on my heart rate monitor, and removed all the zone limits. Finally I grabbed a 3/4 full water bottle to take along with me.
This is when I met Arthur and Debra. They had just finished their workout and their truck was parked next to mine. Arthur is tall black man who reminds me of Louis Gosset Jr. He's wearing long black tights,and a red headsweats cap. He says to me " Is that all the water you're taking with you?" Yeah I thought I would take just this. He shakes his head, saying , "no no no, I 've got an extra gatorade here. You can have it." Debra who sees my NE truck plates is a big Cornhuskers fan and after some talk from both Arthur and Debra it becomes evident that I'm not into college football. I thank him for the gatorade and Debra tells me how hot it is up on the trail right now. I guess I should've cleaned out the camel back for this trip.
Arthur and Debra give me the run down on the trail. Arthur tells me he has run 34 marathons. He says he doesn't know my fitness level, but I look pretty fit. hahaha Pretty nice compliment I think. He gives me advice for running in short spurts up the trail and says it should take me about 45 minutes to reach the half way point. Arthur then tells me about the gps emergency beacon he is wearing. Got it at REI for 150 and for 80 bucks a year he gets a good amount of insurance to cover helicopter costs should they need to use one for rescuing him. Also you can send signals to a website that let your loved ones know just where you are. He says, " you never know what can happen up there man! There's bear, coyote, mountain lion up there. You just never know." I agree, it's good to be prepared.
After thanking Arthur and Debra for all the information, I was on my way up the trail holding a container of liquid in each hand. Normally this would bug the mess out of me, but today it's not a big deal at all. Also I chose to wear my sunglasses along with a hat. This was another good choice as the trail's crushed rock is greyish white and is extremely bright in the sun. It doesn't take me long to get my heart rate up to 132 simply walking up the trail. I would be going up at a 20 to 30 degree angle for the next 3 miles. I broke into a brisk jog after 5 minutes. Looking up instantly made me dizzy. I had to keep my head down. I ran maybe 30 feet and then went back to a walk. Yeah I forget I'm at around 9000 feet right now. Whoo this is going to be nuts! I do just like Arthur said, run for a small stretch as my heart rate quickly jumps to 175, then walk till it drops to 140 something. Very different from the last 8 weeks of being on a treadmill staring at a wall and having my heart rate go up to 145 till I can't keep it under having to walk till it comes back down to below 120.
The trail is mostly wide at about 6 feet with mostly crushed rock. You still have to spend a good deal of time looking at where you're running to avoid the bigger pointy rocks. In some areas the trail shrinks to a couple of feet with a treacherous 50 degree downhill slide right next to it. There are lots of grasshoppers that sound like rocks double clicking together when you come near them. There was a strange noise in the treeline, like a possessed chipmunk or something. You'll hear things above you in the trees, see a little rock roll down the hill. Did a chipmunk do that? or something else. A mountain biker slowly grinds past me. At one point, I go out on an outcrop behind a big rock because I can hold my pee no longer. I'm standing there peeing on a hill which has a breathtaking overlook of the mountain range. You can hear the quiet roar of the mountain wind all around you. At last, I have my own rave run!
I reach the half way mark at 45 minutes just as Arthur said I would. Did I just go 3 miles in 45 minutes all uphill at 9000 feet? I'll take that! I open my gatorade and take a swig. Wow, like syrup when it's not diluted like I normally drink it. I check my phone up here. Yup no signal. So I begin my decent. Running downhill is a welcomed change, but it's also very tricky. I can go a good bit further keeping my heart rate around 160. I stop to let a couple on horses come up. They have the cutest cattle dog I've ever seen. He's wearing a scarf and has icey blue eyes. I tell them I think they're dog is fantastic. They seem pleased. I'll take whatever good karma I can after my morning. I continue downhill taking extra care to watch where my feet land and control my speed. Something tells me my thighs are going to be pissed when I'm done with this all.
I finally make it back to the trailhead. There I see I big wagon full of about 15 gallon jugs of water and other supplies. As I walk towards my truck I meet a couple of guys who ask if I'm running in the race tomorrow. Here? I ask. Yah they tell me it got moved over her recently and I just ran the 6 mile portion. There's also an 11 mile portion. We talk about running on this trail and how nice it is. There's a kindness in the older white guys face that's encouraging and instantly charming. Thank God he didn't ask me to run in the race. I don't think I could've said no. Which would've been ugly because today I do not like the stairs in my house.
I drove home down the backside of the mountain which is basically 18 miles downhill. I always think how cool it would be to just glide on a bike for 18 miles. As I turn up the music, I review my run and my day. Usually running is a way to sort out your problems and find peace. However, I was still beating myself up for the events of the morning. I became somewhat emotional at this point, music blaring, coasting at 80 mph down a mountain with a still breath taking view in the distance. I would like to tell you that I sorted all this out from my outing, that running saved the day, but I can not. I am glad though that I chose the mountain over staying home. It put some distance in the events of the day. It added some clarity. Maybe that's I'll I could've really asked for? I look forward to running here next week. You never know what will happen.
I won't go into detail about that event, but after I realized how insensitive I had been, my morning had become clenched and irrational. My dog doesn't care about such things though. He's just excited because he knows when the crazy small human goes away, he gets a long walk. So I put on my vibrams and out the door we went. We walked a new route this morning straight towards the mountain range. This brought us into a good bit of desert. I have to really be careful where I walk at this point because it's the outskirts and there is a lot of glass, rock and other odd debris here. Our walk soon brought us back into sidewalk land, but it turned out to be longer than I had planned. An hour had passed , over 2.5 miles in distance ,and Finley looked really thirsty.
My ankles had been feeling a little creaky. Wednesday I decided that aerobic base training or heart rate under 145 time was over. I tore my heart rate monitor off and sprinted my fool head off for a half mile or so and then finished my long run at a higher than normal pace. It felt so amazing to do this. I'm a sprinter right? Back to the the beginnings and it felt so wonderful. My ankles if they had faces though, would've been squinty eyed with lips pursed slowly shaking their heads from side to side. The morning walk with Finley though told me that my ankles were just being whiny. They were fine.
I had already been planning to go find a trail to run today, but I couldn't stop beating myself up for being such a moron earlier. I felt a another creak in my right ankle and a voice in my head said maybe you should just lay down, watch some tv and repent. I needed to eat anyway, so I fueled up and contemplated my day. After much personal debate, I decided that I would go to the mountains today and find a trail to run on.
It takes about an hour to drive to the Spring Mountains. I stopped at the visitors center and picked up a map. I asked the old white lady with white puffy hair and a band aide over her right eye what trail they recommend for running, ya know, not too steep with smaller rocks. She recommended the Bristlecone trail. Sounds like a winner. I drove up the mountain side blasting music trying to let myself feel the cooler crisp air, to enjoy the fact that I was at the mountain alone for the first time, but a certain member of my mental committee was still waving his stick in the air, glaring at me, shaking his head in disgust. All of this left a serious look on my face that was the tip of what was now a lot of swelling anger inside me.
I had texted Liz earlier that I was entering the mountain range. I had no signal now and wouldn't for some time. There's this element of danger here which is new for me and slightly unsettling. I've seen and read far too many survival shows/stories that show just how a few small bad things can come together to put a world of hurt on you quickly. My anger helped quell whatever hesitations I may have had though.
I had reached the Bristlecone trailhead. I got out and put my shoes on. I decided to use my Nike Frees since out of all my shoes, I think they offer the most stability. I walked over to the trailhead board and looked at the path I was about to embark on. Seems simple enough. I walked back to my truck to put my belt pack on, carrying my car key, a lighter, a swiss army knife, and my cell phone. (ya never know) Then I put on my heart rate monitor, and removed all the zone limits. Finally I grabbed a 3/4 full water bottle to take along with me.
This is when I met Arthur and Debra. They had just finished their workout and their truck was parked next to mine. Arthur is tall black man who reminds me of Louis Gosset Jr. He's wearing long black tights,and a red headsweats cap. He says to me " Is that all the water you're taking with you?" Yeah I thought I would take just this. He shakes his head, saying , "no no no, I 've got an extra gatorade here. You can have it." Debra who sees my NE truck plates is a big Cornhuskers fan and after some talk from both Arthur and Debra it becomes evident that I'm not into college football. I thank him for the gatorade and Debra tells me how hot it is up on the trail right now. I guess I should've cleaned out the camel back for this trip.
Arthur and Debra give me the run down on the trail. Arthur tells me he has run 34 marathons. He says he doesn't know my fitness level, but I look pretty fit. hahaha Pretty nice compliment I think. He gives me advice for running in short spurts up the trail and says it should take me about 45 minutes to reach the half way point. Arthur then tells me about the gps emergency beacon he is wearing. Got it at REI for 150 and for 80 bucks a year he gets a good amount of insurance to cover helicopter costs should they need to use one for rescuing him. Also you can send signals to a website that let your loved ones know just where you are. He says, " you never know what can happen up there man! There's bear, coyote, mountain lion up there. You just never know." I agree, it's good to be prepared.
After thanking Arthur and Debra for all the information, I was on my way up the trail holding a container of liquid in each hand. Normally this would bug the mess out of me, but today it's not a big deal at all. Also I chose to wear my sunglasses along with a hat. This was another good choice as the trail's crushed rock is greyish white and is extremely bright in the sun. It doesn't take me long to get my heart rate up to 132 simply walking up the trail. I would be going up at a 20 to 30 degree angle for the next 3 miles. I broke into a brisk jog after 5 minutes. Looking up instantly made me dizzy. I had to keep my head down. I ran maybe 30 feet and then went back to a walk. Yeah I forget I'm at around 9000 feet right now. Whoo this is going to be nuts! I do just like Arthur said, run for a small stretch as my heart rate quickly jumps to 175, then walk till it drops to 140 something. Very different from the last 8 weeks of being on a treadmill staring at a wall and having my heart rate go up to 145 till I can't keep it under having to walk till it comes back down to below 120.
The trail is mostly wide at about 6 feet with mostly crushed rock. You still have to spend a good deal of time looking at where you're running to avoid the bigger pointy rocks. In some areas the trail shrinks to a couple of feet with a treacherous 50 degree downhill slide right next to it. There are lots of grasshoppers that sound like rocks double clicking together when you come near them. There was a strange noise in the treeline, like a possessed chipmunk or something. You'll hear things above you in the trees, see a little rock roll down the hill. Did a chipmunk do that? or something else. A mountain biker slowly grinds past me. At one point, I go out on an outcrop behind a big rock because I can hold my pee no longer. I'm standing there peeing on a hill which has a breathtaking overlook of the mountain range. You can hear the quiet roar of the mountain wind all around you. At last, I have my own rave run!
I reach the half way mark at 45 minutes just as Arthur said I would. Did I just go 3 miles in 45 minutes all uphill at 9000 feet? I'll take that! I open my gatorade and take a swig. Wow, like syrup when it's not diluted like I normally drink it. I check my phone up here. Yup no signal. So I begin my decent. Running downhill is a welcomed change, but it's also very tricky. I can go a good bit further keeping my heart rate around 160. I stop to let a couple on horses come up. They have the cutest cattle dog I've ever seen. He's wearing a scarf and has icey blue eyes. I tell them I think they're dog is fantastic. They seem pleased. I'll take whatever good karma I can after my morning. I continue downhill taking extra care to watch where my feet land and control my speed. Something tells me my thighs are going to be pissed when I'm done with this all.
I finally make it back to the trailhead. There I see I big wagon full of about 15 gallon jugs of water and other supplies. As I walk towards my truck I meet a couple of guys who ask if I'm running in the race tomorrow. Here? I ask. Yah they tell me it got moved over her recently and I just ran the 6 mile portion. There's also an 11 mile portion. We talk about running on this trail and how nice it is. There's a kindness in the older white guys face that's encouraging and instantly charming. Thank God he didn't ask me to run in the race. I don't think I could've said no. Which would've been ugly because today I do not like the stairs in my house.
I drove home down the backside of the mountain which is basically 18 miles downhill. I always think how cool it would be to just glide on a bike for 18 miles. As I turn up the music, I review my run and my day. Usually running is a way to sort out your problems and find peace. However, I was still beating myself up for the events of the morning. I became somewhat emotional at this point, music blaring, coasting at 80 mph down a mountain with a still breath taking view in the distance. I would like to tell you that I sorted all this out from my outing, that running saved the day, but I can not. I am glad though that I chose the mountain over staying home. It put some distance in the events of the day. It added some clarity. Maybe that's I'll I could've really asked for? I look forward to running here next week. You never know what will happen.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Sex In The Window
Someone should really work on plastic /a coating that either prevents markers from working on the plastic or the markers wash off very easily. And be affordable and green too while we're at it. Tall order I know. Why do kids have to write such vulgarities all over the place? Maybe I should go back in time to ask myself that. Wait, did I write nasty things on playground equipment? Hmmm I can't recall, but I know I was both directly and indirectly responsible for other heinous acts of juvenile destruction. Maybe I should go back to the playground and wash the equipment myself?
At the first park today, one slide area had at least 3 large drawings of male genitalia committing to their reproductive roles. In the other playground set underneath the slides were some little chairs. Asa in her imagination said that this metal window was this and this metal square was that. She wasn't registering that the word 'S E X' was written all over this metal. Nor did she care that "I like to do sex hard" was written over next to me. There were several other things written that I'll leave out.
Later at another park, since I was looking for a public tennis court, I had to deal with teens using profane language around us. Two girls were sitting in the playground tube on the phone and one girl says out loud, "Does he have a nice ass?!!" Giggles soon follow. Asa is oblivious having fun on the segmented bridge. Then a skateboarder comes up to the pavillion near us for a just a moment to yell "fuck no!" The girls quickly leave and the skateboarder move on.
I'm not really complaining about this though. Normally I wouldn't think twice about such things, but having that new feeling of wanting to shield your kid from the uglies of the world is an interesting thing to feel inside myself. I just need to remember who her number one source of learning is.
On a side note. I've seen 2 crazy instances of violence while driving here. The first was at a large intersection where two kids got out of their car and threw punches at the driver next to them. Right after a police car pulled up behind them. Sometimes it feels so nice to say "BUSTED!"
Yesterday looking for a Subway, I came to a 4 way intersection , that was packed up because of school crossings. As I was getting ready to drive away from the 4 way, I see a huge black man wearing a tank top and shorts get out of a silver PT Cruiser. He's yelling at the car behind him to "Get the fuck out!" and frantically trying the door handles. Then a black woman comes out of the PT cruiser and also attacks the car screaming and yelling. As I'm driving away, I see the car move back and forth and it looks as if the man is diving on the hood, but no, his fist is coming down on the windshield, and then I see that the windshield has been partly shattered. Finally, the car spins out and takes off around the corner with the man and woman left standing with arms in the air. WTF was that about?!! Glad no one got run over, but how did he bust the windshield? Vegas got some crazy yup.
At the first park today, one slide area had at least 3 large drawings of male genitalia committing to their reproductive roles. In the other playground set underneath the slides were some little chairs. Asa in her imagination said that this metal window was this and this metal square was that. She wasn't registering that the word 'S E X' was written all over this metal. Nor did she care that "I like to do sex hard" was written over next to me. There were several other things written that I'll leave out.
Later at another park, since I was looking for a public tennis court, I had to deal with teens using profane language around us. Two girls were sitting in the playground tube on the phone and one girl says out loud, "Does he have a nice ass?!!" Giggles soon follow. Asa is oblivious having fun on the segmented bridge. Then a skateboarder comes up to the pavillion near us for a just a moment to yell "fuck no!" The girls quickly leave and the skateboarder move on.
I'm not really complaining about this though. Normally I wouldn't think twice about such things, but having that new feeling of wanting to shield your kid from the uglies of the world is an interesting thing to feel inside myself. I just need to remember who her number one source of learning is.
On a side note. I've seen 2 crazy instances of violence while driving here. The first was at a large intersection where two kids got out of their car and threw punches at the driver next to them. Right after a police car pulled up behind them. Sometimes it feels so nice to say "BUSTED!"
Yesterday looking for a Subway, I came to a 4 way intersection , that was packed up because of school crossings. As I was getting ready to drive away from the 4 way, I see a huge black man wearing a tank top and shorts get out of a silver PT Cruiser. He's yelling at the car behind him to "Get the fuck out!" and frantically trying the door handles. Then a black woman comes out of the PT cruiser and also attacks the car screaming and yelling. As I'm driving away, I see the car move back and forth and it looks as if the man is diving on the hood, but no, his fist is coming down on the windshield, and then I see that the windshield has been partly shattered. Finally, the car spins out and takes off around the corner with the man and woman left standing with arms in the air. WTF was that about?!! Glad no one got run over, but how did he bust the windshield? Vegas got some crazy yup.
Monday, September 13, 2010
US Open is over!
I know most of the few people that read this don't give two hoots bout tennis, but I just have to say this year's US Open was just as awesome as last years easily. I was in fits yesterday when the men's final got delayed from rain. Then today it got delayed again for several hours for rain. Is it on tv? is it online? Where the hell is it?!!!
I was actually on the treadmill during the first 2 sets today and my heart rate was just spiking constantly. Was it the compression shirt? Shouldn't be. Was it me not breathing while watching? Maybe it was because my head was turned the whole time to my left and that was making my blood flow messed up? Either way, I was really getting upset about it.
At one point the treadmill Err'd on me. When this happens it just suddenly stops and beeps at you. It's the most jarring thing ever, like a punch in the gut or rake in the face. Your whole body is just thrown out of wack. In the past, out of all the things to do which I won't list, the number one way to prevent the Err of repeating for the session is to take the top of the motor housing off and leave it off. Call me superstitious.
I was already cussing up a storm from watching the match. After all no one was home and its so rare that I can be a 'boy' and act like a sub human. Also I'm in my last week of aerobic base training which is killing me. I want to run fast and let that heartbeat go where it wants to. One more week though. Today though I was seriously considering just ripping the heart monitor off and saying to hell with it.
When the treadmill Err'd, I flew off the treadmill unleashing a flurry of obscenities followed by primal screaming as I threw off the treadmill cover and flung it across the room, followed by more obscenities as I reset everything. My heart rate still never got over 147 through it all. But what a release of adrenaline. The neighbors will surely steer clear of me now.
My friend is sending me my old tennis racket though. I just want to go serve some balls at the local court. I've already found Asa a small racket and oversize balls as well for her to use. I won't lie. I've fantasized about being that 'coach dad' in the stands watching my girl play in some Grand Slam tournament. I can't imagine the grey hairs I'd get from something like that.
Here's a pic by Andrew Ong at the Open. This is Novak Djokovic's dad, Srdjan Djokovic sporting his son on his shirt. That shirt is hilarious, but really really cool too! I loved watching his Dad get all FIRED UP!
I was actually on the treadmill during the first 2 sets today and my heart rate was just spiking constantly. Was it the compression shirt? Shouldn't be. Was it me not breathing while watching? Maybe it was because my head was turned the whole time to my left and that was making my blood flow messed up? Either way, I was really getting upset about it.
At one point the treadmill Err'd on me. When this happens it just suddenly stops and beeps at you. It's the most jarring thing ever, like a punch in the gut or rake in the face. Your whole body is just thrown out of wack. In the past, out of all the things to do which I won't list, the number one way to prevent the Err of repeating for the session is to take the top of the motor housing off and leave it off. Call me superstitious.
I was already cussing up a storm from watching the match. After all no one was home and its so rare that I can be a 'boy' and act like a sub human. Also I'm in my last week of aerobic base training which is killing me. I want to run fast and let that heartbeat go where it wants to. One more week though. Today though I was seriously considering just ripping the heart monitor off and saying to hell with it.
When the treadmill Err'd, I flew off the treadmill unleashing a flurry of obscenities followed by primal screaming as I threw off the treadmill cover and flung it across the room, followed by more obscenities as I reset everything. My heart rate still never got over 147 through it all. But what a release of adrenaline. The neighbors will surely steer clear of me now.
My friend is sending me my old tennis racket though. I just want to go serve some balls at the local court. I've already found Asa a small racket and oversize balls as well for her to use. I won't lie. I've fantasized about being that 'coach dad' in the stands watching my girl play in some Grand Slam tournament. I can't imagine the grey hairs I'd get from something like that.
Here's a pic by Andrew Ong at the Open. This is Novak Djokovic's dad, Srdjan Djokovic sporting his son on his shirt. That shirt is hilarious, but really really cool too! I loved watching his Dad get all FIRED UP!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
What did you say?
This is a recent pic of Beyonce and JayZ on vacation.
Back up to earlier today while at Target, Asa still had some bday money so we agreed she could get a small Hello Kitty playhouse. It's about 3 inches tall and most importantly...quiet.
As she was going to bed, Asa was cleaning up and decided that she would put her playhouse and all the pieces in front of the tv on the tv stand.
Later , Liz and I are watching The Soup and Joel whips up the picture of Beyonce and Jay Z. Out of nowhere I say to Liz, "Did she put both her kitties back in the house?"
There's a long pause.......she looks at me and says "What?!!" I repeat myself, "did she put both her kitties in the house?" Liz says to me " What the hell are you talking about?"
When we realized what had happened, we couldn't stop laughing.
In other news congrats to Novak Djokavic's win over Roger Federer today. Sure Federer played some ugly tennis, but any guy that can come back from 15-40 double match point against Federer in a Grand Slam semi has nothing but respect from me. It's not like Djokavic just kept it in play for Federer to produce an unforced error either. Novak took those points back with fearless guts. I'd love to see Nadal win tomorrow for several reasons. He most likely will since he hasn't lost a set yet, but maybe it will be like that one ugly Patriots game? I think I'll root for Djokavic. You one crazy Serb!!!
an AP photo
Back up to earlier today while at Target, Asa still had some bday money so we agreed she could get a small Hello Kitty playhouse. It's about 3 inches tall and most importantly...quiet.
As she was going to bed, Asa was cleaning up and decided that she would put her playhouse and all the pieces in front of the tv on the tv stand.
Later , Liz and I are watching The Soup and Joel whips up the picture of Beyonce and Jay Z. Out of nowhere I say to Liz, "Did she put both her kitties back in the house?"
There's a long pause.......she looks at me and says "What?!!" I repeat myself, "did she put both her kitties in the house?" Liz says to me " What the hell are you talking about?"
When we realized what had happened, we couldn't stop laughing.
In other news congrats to Novak Djokavic's win over Roger Federer today. Sure Federer played some ugly tennis, but any guy that can come back from 15-40 double match point against Federer in a Grand Slam semi has nothing but respect from me. It's not like Djokavic just kept it in play for Federer to produce an unforced error either. Novak took those points back with fearless guts. I'd love to see Nadal win tomorrow for several reasons. He most likely will since he hasn't lost a set yet, but maybe it will be like that one ugly Patriots game? I think I'll root for Djokavic. You one crazy Serb!!!
an AP photo
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Running Part II
Almost 3 months later, I give you part 2. After kindergarten, running was only something I did when I was trying to run from the cops, or painters who were chasing me because I threw eggs at their truck. Turns out, one of them was riding in the truck bed and was out and running after me and my friends faster than we could say Holy Shit!
Unlike a true soldier of anarchy, I ran in the opposite direction of my friends and painter guy was on me quickly. As I sprinted for dear life through the wooded park , I practically flopped over a chest level chain link fence to a house and spun around. Painter guy was standing there huffing and pissed. He screams, "What's your goddamned name kid!" I was frozen for about 3 seconds and suddenly "Bill Parsons" came out of my mouth. The funny thing is in retrospect, despite the intensity of the situation, my personal monitor in my head was shaking his with a look that said, that is the saddest fake name ever created. The painter then demanded to know where I lived. I gave him a bogus address of a street I knew was close by. Then like a fast forward slap back into reality I yelled and pointed "You're friend is here." The cheesiest use of distraction technique I could muster. This is proof to me of how when humans are under stress and we have no experience or training, we resort to whatever we have which is often comical.
In almost one motion as I threw my distraction card out, I spun round and bolted over the fence leading to the front of the yard. I ran across the street to a house that's side was in shadow from the streetlights. My shirt had been torn in half from the fence. I laid face down in the bushes, doing what seemed like small push ups because I was breathing so hard and so deep. My eye's didn't blink, and all I could think of was getting the shit beat of me or worse... going to jail!
The truck made several passes up and down the street. I could hear their voices grumbling with obscenities. The truck's engine took on a sinister sound that made my pulse rise each time as it came closer. They would pass and look right at me or so it felt like. In those moments, my body was as stiff as a plank of steel. Don't move! Don't make a sound! Keep your head down! I didn't even know where I could run if they came bolting out towards me. After what seemed like 2 hours ( prolly like 45 min) I determined it was time to make a run for it.
I ran back to my friends house only a couple blocks away. Running from shadow to shadow, my heart was racing. I finally made it to my friends house. They had stayed inside for fear of being seen. I was pissed because they didn't come get me, but I knew had I been with them I would've stayed inside too. After a heated discussion on the logic of why we split up and whose fault it was, we calmed down. I finally told my story of escape and the adrenaline rush was released as we laughed our heads off. Bill Parsons? everyone shaking their heads in laughter.
I look back at that and wonder, what was my heart rate though all of that? 200+?!! Also turns out Bill Parsons is actually a well respected name. Go brain!
Anyway, around age 12, I became a bowler. There's no cardio in bowling though. Shhh don't let the college coaches hear me say that. At age 17, I decided that becoming a pro bowler was not the path I wanted to take. Mostly because I didn't really like bowling anymore. Mentally I found it intensely boring to try and produce the same result over and over against ever changing variables. I couldn't find the zen in bowling. It was around this time that my passion for tennis began. I couldn't get enough of it. I wished I had started playing tennis at age 12, maybe then I could have been on the high school team.
Tennis brought me back to my beginnings. Sprint after sprint after sprint on the court. The dynamics of tennis were multifaceted and it was an amazing feeling to be able to run down a ball that the other player thought was too good, only to be returned for a winning shot. It was this perfect meld of mind and body laced with intensity and motion.
Tennis eventually drifted away as well though. I never really burned out on it. I just really liked playing with certain people and my friends. We all moved and shifted and became busy.
It would be years later, around 2001 or so that I would start exercising for health reasons. At this time I was a smoker though which obviously impeded any serious effort at running. I recently went on mapmyrun.com and looked up the distances I used to jog. Whether in Fort Walton Beach or Germantown, they were all roughly around 2 miles in distance. These runs which were mostly walking consisted of a lot of heavy breathing and legs that seemed to ache quicker than my lungs. Riding a bike was much cooler and got me from A to B much easier.
I remember running down Hollywood Blvd in Fort Walton one night, and I thought if I could just run the entire length of the street from bottom to the light, that would be an accomplishment. One night while gasping, cramping, and moving at a pace slower than walking I hobbled to the light completing my goal. There was no elation or mental pat on the back. Just me saying oh shit I'm exhausted. This distance was a little over half a mile.
A few years later in Maryland before I got a moutain bike, I really liked running around Clopper Lake. This is where the Blairwitch was filmed. It wasn't too long and the navigation of roots and terrain kept my mind off of things like breathing which I felt was always a constant voice of fatigue demanding that I walk for a bit. I'll never forget one day at Clopper. I was with Liz running around and I was amazed at my endless energy. There was a steep hill about 45 degrees and maybe 30 feet in length. I felt like I could've sprinted up and down this hill all day. It was uncanny. Only one time playing tennis did I ever feel such a surge of what seemed like unending anaerobic capacity.
I never felt like 'running' was a fair term in describing my efforts. It really was just intermittent little jogs laced together with either imploding lungs or aching legs. It never made me feel very good after I was done either. The reward didn't seem to be worth the struggle. Biking had so much more reward for me. However, I still ran here and there on brief occasions usually in the winter or fall. But again I didn't really run, I just kinda jogged for little bits. That was good enough at the time.
Unlike a true soldier of anarchy, I ran in the opposite direction of my friends and painter guy was on me quickly. As I sprinted for dear life through the wooded park , I practically flopped over a chest level chain link fence to a house and spun around. Painter guy was standing there huffing and pissed. He screams, "What's your goddamned name kid!" I was frozen for about 3 seconds and suddenly "Bill Parsons" came out of my mouth. The funny thing is in retrospect, despite the intensity of the situation, my personal monitor in my head was shaking his with a look that said, that is the saddest fake name ever created. The painter then demanded to know where I lived. I gave him a bogus address of a street I knew was close by. Then like a fast forward slap back into reality I yelled and pointed "You're friend is here." The cheesiest use of distraction technique I could muster. This is proof to me of how when humans are under stress and we have no experience or training, we resort to whatever we have which is often comical.
In almost one motion as I threw my distraction card out, I spun round and bolted over the fence leading to the front of the yard. I ran across the street to a house that's side was in shadow from the streetlights. My shirt had been torn in half from the fence. I laid face down in the bushes, doing what seemed like small push ups because I was breathing so hard and so deep. My eye's didn't blink, and all I could think of was getting the shit beat of me or worse... going to jail!
The truck made several passes up and down the street. I could hear their voices grumbling with obscenities. The truck's engine took on a sinister sound that made my pulse rise each time as it came closer. They would pass and look right at me or so it felt like. In those moments, my body was as stiff as a plank of steel. Don't move! Don't make a sound! Keep your head down! I didn't even know where I could run if they came bolting out towards me. After what seemed like 2 hours ( prolly like 45 min) I determined it was time to make a run for it.
I ran back to my friends house only a couple blocks away. Running from shadow to shadow, my heart was racing. I finally made it to my friends house. They had stayed inside for fear of being seen. I was pissed because they didn't come get me, but I knew had I been with them I would've stayed inside too. After a heated discussion on the logic of why we split up and whose fault it was, we calmed down. I finally told my story of escape and the adrenaline rush was released as we laughed our heads off. Bill Parsons? everyone shaking their heads in laughter.
I look back at that and wonder, what was my heart rate though all of that? 200+?!! Also turns out Bill Parsons is actually a well respected name. Go brain!
Anyway, around age 12, I became a bowler. There's no cardio in bowling though. Shhh don't let the college coaches hear me say that. At age 17, I decided that becoming a pro bowler was not the path I wanted to take. Mostly because I didn't really like bowling anymore. Mentally I found it intensely boring to try and produce the same result over and over against ever changing variables. I couldn't find the zen in bowling. It was around this time that my passion for tennis began. I couldn't get enough of it. I wished I had started playing tennis at age 12, maybe then I could have been on the high school team.
Tennis brought me back to my beginnings. Sprint after sprint after sprint on the court. The dynamics of tennis were multifaceted and it was an amazing feeling to be able to run down a ball that the other player thought was too good, only to be returned for a winning shot. It was this perfect meld of mind and body laced with intensity and motion.
Tennis eventually drifted away as well though. I never really burned out on it. I just really liked playing with certain people and my friends. We all moved and shifted and became busy.
It would be years later, around 2001 or so that I would start exercising for health reasons. At this time I was a smoker though which obviously impeded any serious effort at running. I recently went on mapmyrun.com and looked up the distances I used to jog. Whether in Fort Walton Beach or Germantown, they were all roughly around 2 miles in distance. These runs which were mostly walking consisted of a lot of heavy breathing and legs that seemed to ache quicker than my lungs. Riding a bike was much cooler and got me from A to B much easier.
I remember running down Hollywood Blvd in Fort Walton one night, and I thought if I could just run the entire length of the street from bottom to the light, that would be an accomplishment. One night while gasping, cramping, and moving at a pace slower than walking I hobbled to the light completing my goal. There was no elation or mental pat on the back. Just me saying oh shit I'm exhausted. This distance was a little over half a mile.
A few years later in Maryland before I got a moutain bike, I really liked running around Clopper Lake. This is where the Blairwitch was filmed. It wasn't too long and the navigation of roots and terrain kept my mind off of things like breathing which I felt was always a constant voice of fatigue demanding that I walk for a bit. I'll never forget one day at Clopper. I was with Liz running around and I was amazed at my endless energy. There was a steep hill about 45 degrees and maybe 30 feet in length. I felt like I could've sprinted up and down this hill all day. It was uncanny. Only one time playing tennis did I ever feel such a surge of what seemed like unending anaerobic capacity.
I never felt like 'running' was a fair term in describing my efforts. It really was just intermittent little jogs laced together with either imploding lungs or aching legs. It never made me feel very good after I was done either. The reward didn't seem to be worth the struggle. Biking had so much more reward for me. However, I still ran here and there on brief occasions usually in the winter or fall. But again I didn't really run, I just kinda jogged for little bits. That was good enough at the time.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Lamb Park Pics
This is only my shadow. Am I armless, wearing a bucket on my head, and a wood plank in front of my shorts?
Seems part of my brain is always searching natural structures for something man made. While in that search I found this root. It reminds me of a satellite pic, but also has a kinda of deformed 'Scream' mask-ness about it.
My other photography friends and I would give each other photo titles, like road guy, sky guy, and dog guy. Whenever we're out taking pics, each person lives up to their title by proudly showing off a good pic of a sky, road, or dog. I was sky guy, but I think maybe I should've been called garbage guy. I love garbage cans and dumpsters. If I was going to make a coffee book, it would be Dumpsters of The World!
This is me daydreaming in the grass. I was thinking about playing with a praying mantis that lives in my backyard as if he were my pet. Then I remember the dream about a mantis on my ceiling as I'm waking up in a large bed in a highschool classroom. I grab the mantis by his body and crush his head. I lovingly hold it up to my wife's face, and she tersely kisses it. The mantis vanishes , but there's blood all over my fingers.
Seems part of my brain is always searching natural structures for something man made. While in that search I found this root. It reminds me of a satellite pic, but also has a kinda of deformed 'Scream' mask-ness about it.
My other photography friends and I would give each other photo titles, like road guy, sky guy, and dog guy. Whenever we're out taking pics, each person lives up to their title by proudly showing off a good pic of a sky, road, or dog. I was sky guy, but I think maybe I should've been called garbage guy. I love garbage cans and dumpsters. If I was going to make a coffee book, it would be Dumpsters of The World!
This is me daydreaming in the grass. I was thinking about playing with a praying mantis that lives in my backyard as if he were my pet. Then I remember the dream about a mantis on my ceiling as I'm waking up in a large bed in a highschool classroom. I grab the mantis by his body and crush his head. I lovingly hold it up to my wife's face, and she tersely kisses it. The mantis vanishes , but there's blood all over my fingers.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Sit down please
Sometimes I have the urge to own massive ivory swan decor kitchen furniture. It makes me feel like I just walked out of an unfilmed episode of Erasehead meets Dune, or ...oh jeez you really can't combine those two can you.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Tugboat Soup
I was actually meaning to make my own lentil soup, so I used the recipe from that funny little reader with some alterations of course. Pretty good I say.
Lovers of Born To Run will notice the speckling of chia seeds. Gotta get my omegas yo.
Otherwise I've gotten mildly sick and this Labor Day weekend has been thoroughly uneventful minus some good tennis on tv. Hopefully I'll be feeling better tomorrow.
Lovers of Born To Run will notice the speckling of chia seeds. Gotta get my omegas yo.
Otherwise I've gotten mildly sick and this Labor Day weekend has been thoroughly uneventful minus some good tennis on tv. Hopefully I'll be feeling better tomorrow.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Dorkraiser
I think I resemble 'chatterbox' in this pic from my daughter. Course I'd be the dorkiest cenobite ever.
What's a cenobite you ask, or chatterbox? He's one of the badguys from the late 80s movie Hellraiser. "I have such sights to show you!" This was back when horror movies still had some shock value for me.
What's a cenobite you ask, or chatterbox? He's one of the badguys from the late 80s movie Hellraiser. "I have such sights to show you!" This was back when horror movies still had some shock value for me.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Fiction time
So I thought you should know. I am fairly certain there will be a cat1 or higher storm in the Gulf of Mexico round the 29th of Sept. I'm telling you now, so you can plan!
In other fronts, I finished my Andre Agassi book. As an 80s tennis fan, that book was a complete riot! One of my biggest idols, Ivan Lendl...now I know he liked to walk around butt naked in the locker room with just tennis shoes on. It's creepy and hilarious simultaneously. There are lots of great stories about other players. I remember a lot of the matches talked about and to know what was in his head during them is really eye opening. And yet with all the tennis stuff, the stories about his his brother, best friend, trainer Gil,and relationship with Brad Gilbert were excellent- touching and memorable. I could go on and on, but suffice to say I'm damn happy I read it, because I was so close to saying..meeeh do I really want to 'read' about tennis.
So again the search will be on for the next book. I'm becoming a full on book nerd. Here are the books I've read in the last year or so.
Nor Crystal Tears - Alan Dean Foster
Sentenced To Prism - Alan Dean Foster
Les Stroud's Survive - Les Stroud
Extreme Outdoor Adventures- Larry Mueller and Marguerite Reiss
Take This Job And Ship It - Byron L. Dorgan
Mountain Madness - Robert Birkby
Born To Run - Chistopher McDougall
Principles of Running - Amby Burfoot
The Shack - William P. Young
Animals In Translation - Temple Grandin
With The Old Breed - EB Sledge
The Brain That Changes Itself - Norman Doidge
The Power Of Serving Others - Gary Morsch and Dean Nelson
Where Men Win Glory - Jon Krakauer
Open - Andre Agassi
After reading Open, I really want to read Nelson Mandela's autobiography. But the one thing that is apparent in reviewing my book list is that only 3 books are fiction. Nor Crystal Tears was a book I read many years ago and through an old friend it found its way back to me. I actually had bought another copy a few years before since I didn't recall where my original book went. When I got it back , I had to read it again! So 3 times.
Sentenced To Prism is the first ADF book I ever read, and I think I bought it just because I liked the cover when I was young teen. I've read that book several times since. I will pass out if I ever see a preview for it in the theater, so long as it's got a good director.
I read The Shack since Liz had read it, and told me of the horrors of the book. Now that we have a young girl, the story of a 6 yr old girl being taken and killed by a stranger was hard to read about. The book's main character eventually has discussions with the Holy Trinity and comes to a greater understanding of how life works. I don't have a lot of hardline or preset beliefs about God, so I found the book's ideas to be quite fascinating. I often picture God as a loving Aunt Jemima now after reading this book.
So I think it's time to read another fiction book. I'm pretty sure what book I'm going to get also.
The key word for this book is dystopian which means -
a society characterized by human misery, as squalor, oppression, disease, and overcrowding
In other fronts, I finished my Andre Agassi book. As an 80s tennis fan, that book was a complete riot! One of my biggest idols, Ivan Lendl...now I know he liked to walk around butt naked in the locker room with just tennis shoes on. It's creepy and hilarious simultaneously. There are lots of great stories about other players. I remember a lot of the matches talked about and to know what was in his head during them is really eye opening. And yet with all the tennis stuff, the stories about his his brother, best friend, trainer Gil,and relationship with Brad Gilbert were excellent- touching and memorable. I could go on and on, but suffice to say I'm damn happy I read it, because I was so close to saying..meeeh do I really want to 'read' about tennis.
So again the search will be on for the next book. I'm becoming a full on book nerd. Here are the books I've read in the last year or so.
Nor Crystal Tears - Alan Dean Foster
Sentenced To Prism - Alan Dean Foster
Les Stroud's Survive - Les Stroud
Extreme Outdoor Adventures- Larry Mueller and Marguerite Reiss
Take This Job And Ship It - Byron L. Dorgan
Mountain Madness - Robert Birkby
Born To Run - Chistopher McDougall
Principles of Running - Amby Burfoot
The Shack - William P. Young
Animals In Translation - Temple Grandin
With The Old Breed - EB Sledge
The Brain That Changes Itself - Norman Doidge
The Power Of Serving Others - Gary Morsch and Dean Nelson
Where Men Win Glory - Jon Krakauer
Open - Andre Agassi
After reading Open, I really want to read Nelson Mandela's autobiography. But the one thing that is apparent in reviewing my book list is that only 3 books are fiction. Nor Crystal Tears was a book I read many years ago and through an old friend it found its way back to me. I actually had bought another copy a few years before since I didn't recall where my original book went. When I got it back , I had to read it again! So 3 times.
Sentenced To Prism is the first ADF book I ever read, and I think I bought it just because I liked the cover when I was young teen. I've read that book several times since. I will pass out if I ever see a preview for it in the theater, so long as it's got a good director.
I read The Shack since Liz had read it, and told me of the horrors of the book. Now that we have a young girl, the story of a 6 yr old girl being taken and killed by a stranger was hard to read about. The book's main character eventually has discussions with the Holy Trinity and comes to a greater understanding of how life works. I don't have a lot of hardline or preset beliefs about God, so I found the book's ideas to be quite fascinating. I often picture God as a loving Aunt Jemima now after reading this book.
So I think it's time to read another fiction book. I'm pretty sure what book I'm going to get also.
The key word for this book is dystopian which means -
a society characterized by human misery, as squalor, oppression, disease, and overcrowding
But when Sarah Silverman's newest book comes out on paperback, it's on! Here are some book covers. I love the old sci fi art!
A snippet from Prism: Do you have an individuality or are you just part of a composite?
I beg your pardon? I mean , I don't understand.
Among my kind each individual is identified by a descriptive term appropriate to the individual alone. I, for example, am A Surface of Fine Azure-Tinted Reflection With Pyroxin Dendritic Inclusions.
A snippet from Tears : and it did not take long to figure out that they employed air from their lungs, or at least from inside their bodies. Modulation probably came from movements of their flexible mandibles and the peculiar fleshy organ soft creatures sometimes possessed inside their mouths. They did not communicate by making word tones with their mandibles.
A snippet from The Shack : The colors moving within Sarayu were darkening as she spoke, blacks and greys merging and shadowing the rainbow hues. "And if there is no reality of good that is absolute, then you have lost any basis for judging. It is just language, and one might as well exchange the word good for the word evil."
A snippet from Prism: Do you have an individuality or are you just part of a composite?I beg your pardon? I mean , I don't understand.
Among my kind each individual is identified by a descriptive term appropriate to the individual alone. I, for example, am A Surface of Fine Azure-Tinted Reflection With Pyroxin Dendritic Inclusions.
A snippet from Tears : and it did not take long to figure out that they employed air from their lungs, or at least from inside their bodies. Modulation probably came from movements of their flexible mandibles and the peculiar fleshy organ soft creatures sometimes possessed inside their mouths. They did not communicate by making word tones with their mandibles.
A snippet from The Shack : The colors moving within Sarayu were darkening as she spoke, blacks and greys merging and shadowing the rainbow hues. "And if there is no reality of good that is absolute, then you have lost any basis for judging. It is just language, and one might as well exchange the word good for the word evil."
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