Views from two wheels

Another red letter day

2012-02-13T12:26:00.000-08:00

Just as the Super Bowl is a marker beyond the game for me, the day before Valentine's Day was the start of a few things that have little to do with the holiday.

Cherie threw down the challenge of running a marathon after a glass or two of wine on Super Bowl Sunday. I would like to say that I woke up Monday morning (the day all resolutions begin) and went for a run. I didn't. I had to go out and get the right shoes, shorts, a training log, and all other manners of putting off the actual work. But I followed through on the "Drunken Promise" only a week later, so I won't beat myself up too badly for the delay.

Being the number cruncher that I am, things don't really count unless they are recorded somewhere or thrown on an Excel worksheet. I have been keeping a training log ever since that first run, tracking distances, paces, heart rates and calories burned. I have experimented with a few online tracking sites, and these days my Garmin just burps the data up to the cloud when I plug it into the laptop. But I have maintained a paper journal since the beginning, and I continue to make notes to compliment all the metrics. When Buckeye Outdoors crashed on me last year, I am glad I had my own hard copy.

I dug out the training journal from 2005 and found the entry for my first run.

"First Run! The fantasy of a marathon begins here. Two short runs with a walk in between."

Apparently the need to record time and pace didn't begin immediately, but I did make sure to note that it was 32 degrees out when I made that first step. I couldn't run more than a quarter mile without a walk break that first time, but I was running a 3.5 mile race just a month later. Seven years hence, I am still running, and that fantasy of marathon when I couldn't run a half mile is now reality.

February 13th marks another beginning. I arrived in San Diego two years ago with a pickup truck full of stuff and a road-weary dog. I received a very special valentine the next day.

Not everything has worked out as planned, but that is to be expected. I arrived here for just that reason. Even so, there have been some nice surprises and unexpected good things because of the move. I can't pretend to know what my life would be like now if I hadn't made the leap, but I feel like I am a better person, a better man for what has happened since then.

I don't know what the future holds, but I am better for having taken these first steps, making these changes, and setting out on a new path. I need to remember that and be a little braver when taking a risk and making a leap.

What to share

2012-02-11T07:53:00.000-08:00

Most of us live online more than ever. Fleeting moments or hours at a time are spent on Facebook, Twitter, blogs and discussion boards. Do we really have that much to say?

Everyone uses it a little differently and even each outlet seems to have its own level of intimacy and disclosure. The level seems to match up nicely with the number of words used. This is certainly not hard and fast, but Twitter seems the most banal, a place to put the thoughts that fly through your head but rarely land. Facebook offers a little more depth (at times), and blogs seem to be where people take the time to work through their thoughts.

That is not to say that the fleeting thoughts and tiny topics are not worth sharing. Sometimes the smallest of observations can be enlightening. But no one comes home and describes their day in minute by minute detail. Everyone still needs to decide where to draw the line, and what to share.

I recently reconnected on Facebook with someone I hadn't seen in a couple of decades. His postings were pretty upbeat, usually inspirational, and gave the impression that he had figured it all out. No, not that he had figured it all out, but that he had come to terms with so many things, and yet he continued to try to improve every day.

We had a chance to meet in person not too long ago, and the person I met had little to do with the online persona. He was a bit crude, a little vulgar, and didn't give off the aura of enlightenment he had on Facebook. I felt a little like I had been duped by an online dating service.

For a while after that, anytime he wrote something online, I took it with more than a grain of salt. After seeing him in person, it all seemed so false and contrived. But then I began to wonder - maybe these inspirational passages and desire to be better were closer to the mark. When we met in person, we were only together for a half hour or so. Maybe he felt like he had to be a "guy's guy", and the more introspective part of him would have come out if we had more time.

Of course, both of these parts are who he is. We all change how we act in some respect depending on the audience. The stories we share with family, friends, drinking buddies and office acquaintances all vary. It doesn't mean that some are lies and others aren't, because they are all incomplete.

I have picked up reading a blog again that I had let drop off the radar. The author is going through a separation or divorce from her husband of eleven years. She is incredibly honest about the pain she is going through, while leaving out the details of why it is happening.

From a recent post:

Sometimes people send me advice and it is so colored by their own pain, pain that I honor and regard with reverence, but it wants to believe so much that isn't true about this. This thing that I'm living through. This thing that is full of details and dynamics and its own kind of pain, a kind whose shape I think I have figured out and then I turn it over and find another side.

I don't mind the advice, not at all. This experience wants to tell its story, and our common ground is the struggle. We share the simple hope that no one at the store will notice that we are wearing sunglasses indoors, sunglasses we won't take off until we've pulled into the garage and slouched over the steering wheel to resume sobbing.

And no matter who is to blame, no matter what happened or is happening we've each had those moments when the panic rises so fast in our throats that to hold it down is like swallowing the deep end of a pool. But then we make dinner, we help with homework, we somehow walk from one end of the room to the other. Like so many of you have assured me, that light at the end is around here somewhere. And sometimes just a glimpse of it is enough to get me to the end of the day.

I think we can all learn from this sort honesty, the expression of a common struggle that is uncommon to you. I detailed some of my own fight here and on the other blog, and I felt like I was being brutally honest, but I still didn't share the way she has. I didn't (and don't) describe every dip and valley - there is always some graphical smoothing when drawing up the elevation profile. Though the portrayal is incomplete, I try my best to be authentic.

In many ways, I have been more open and honest here than in person. Even though the audience is wider, I suppose the distance helps me be more forthcoming. But I am getting better about being open in person. I have seen the harm to myself and others with keeping everything inside, and finding relief only in writing instead of speaking aloud. An odd side effect is that my writing here has slowed down in the process, but I will take that trade off.

We share and over-share online. The medium opens us up to all manner of thought and opinion and at times allows us to be more honest. The post quoted above reinforced the value of sharing the things no one sees. My meeting with my friend reminds me that we still have a long way to go in order to live honestly and make real connections.

Quote of the day

2012-02-08T20:53:00.000-08:00

"As I look back on nearly half a century of research, I am struck by the fact that my life in science has never proceeded along a straight line toward a goal, but in a series of steps in different and unexpected directions. It reminds me of the walks I loved to take in Paris- not journeys toward a particular goal, but random strolls that were directed, at each corner, by the curious or beautiful that appeared down one street or the other. I think it’s a good way to explore and a great way to live."

~ K. E. van Holde

Super Sunday

2012-02-05T02:00:00.000-08:00

It's never about the game really.

I like watching football as much as the next guy (depending on who I am standing next to), and could sit and watch a game with teams I didn't care about, simply to enjoy the sport. Although the Super Bowl is the premier football game, I don't get any more psyched to watch it over any other game (outside of the one and only year the Seahawks made it in).

No, it is about the gathering, the party, the food, the friends, and the commercials. Tami held parties every year for a while with two tvs going. Even so, all but the die hard fan would spend most of their time talking and eating, and the commercials would quiet the room more often than the game.

But the big game is a marker for a few non-football events. In 2008, I ran a marathon on Super Bowl Sunday with Sean and Marci. We braved dumping rain and swirling winds to finish one of my worst marathons. Holly braved those same elements to watch us run, and later in the day she would tell us she was pregnant with Annabelle. We went back to Sean's house to celebrate and turned on the game almost as an afterthought. I did manage to catch the last drive where the Giants came back to ruin the Patriot's perfect season.

I probably would have been watching that game rather than running if it hadn't been for another Super Sunday. As I mentioned before, we were at a Super Bowl party in 2005 and Cherie said to me, "grab a glass of wine, I have something I want to talk to you about". She threw down the challenge to run a marathon, even though neither of us had run a step in years (or ever). But that promise set me on the running path that carried me to Surf City in 2008.

And Super Bowl Sunday marks another beginning. Kristy and I started dating a year ago today. We actually started dating the day before the big game last year, but the 5th falls on Super Sunday this year. I have no idea how we will celebrate, but watching the game is probably not going to be on the agenda.

No, we prefer to be outdoors these days. We have been sneaking away for hikes on Sundays, heading to the Farmers Market, or just working out in the yard. Unfortunately, Kristy is pretty sick right now, so it may just be a lazy Sunday indoors on the couch. Maybe there will be football after all.

---UPDATE---

This Sunday just got more Super. Please welcome Sean and Marci's new baby boy to the world, born on this day.

Anxious

2012-02-02T09:04:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling at loose ends lately.

I have been letting things pile up. My corner of the house is a mess of papers, things that need to be read and attended to. Sort of a visual to do list, and it reached the point where I didn't want to pick it up. I spent a good ten minutes looking for my checkbook the other day. It was in plain sight, but blended in all too well with the strewn paper backdrop.

The first step is always the hardest.

I went for my first run since the marathon this morning. With no event forcing me to get out there, I took more time than I needed to rest my Achilles tendon. Every morning, I talked myself out of going out, and then I just forgot I should be running by now. Fell out of the habit.

I haven't written anything toward the new book since I set it down in November. I have been occupying my mind with small bits of promotion for Share the Road, which is more exciting than the actual hard work of writing. I finally sat my butt down and picked up the loose thread in the chapter. It was only 500 words or so, but it was a start.

I was listening to an interview with Haile Gebrselassie while running this morning. He is an amazingly accomplished runner, having held world records in distances from 1500 meters all the way to the marathon. But the connection was a little poor and I found it difficult to understand unless I really concentrated. So my mind drifted.

The kaleidoscope of images running through my brain pushed out the voices in my headphones, and I chose not to look at the watch at my wrist that was counting off time in hundredths of miles. I kept my eyes on the horizon rather than slumped over on the road. I might otherwise have missed the guy enthusiastically air-drumming to the song in his head, as he dropped his hands to his side as he heard me approach.

I am coming up on a few mile markers on the calendar and it set me to reflect on the past couple of years. I have done a few things that are both amazing in the moment, yet rather ordinary in the grand scheme of things. Most times I don't know how to feel about it all, and I didn't come to any epiphanies this morning.

Work is always a bit up in the air. We work from job to job, so the schedule is never the same. It is more at loose ends right now because Marci's due date was yesterday. For the past week they have been convinced that the baby was coming that evening. Then the next evening. It is hard to plan work, because Sean doesn't want to be fifty miles away when she goes into labor. Every evening for a week, Sean has said, "Well, I probably won't see you tomorrow." But each day he is there, ready to dash off when he gets the call.

Nearly half a million babies are born each day. It is at once the most ordinary and natural thing. But it will be nothing short of amazing, and life will never be quite the same. And at this point, the waiting is probably the hardest part. They just want to get started.

Hello old friend

2012-01-28T14:10:00.000-08:00

You've sat with your head in the corner like you were being punished, gathering dust when you yearned to be outside. The only trips you have had lately were when you were dragged out for photos like some classic car that never gets driven. You sat quietly while I ignored you, resisting the urge to say, "you know the number would be smaller if you took me out" whenever I reached beneath you to drag out the scale.

It was my fault, not yours. I apologize.

We went out for our first ride in nearly a year. The bike performed beautifully, and all the muscle memory came back to me quickly. Soon we were zipping downhill with the wind in our faces.

Too soon after, I was trudging up a hill, looking for a lower gear. We rode an ambitiously hilly route for our first time out, and the muscles were now remembering how different biking is from running. I was properly humbled for the year of neglect, and I could swear that I heard some quiet, mechanical laughter behind the spinning gears.

Can't blame you.

I promise it won't be as long as it was last time, for your sake and mine.

This one went to eleven

2012-01-23T18:48:00.000-08:00

This was marathon number eleven, and I have to say, I took it to eleven.

As I mentioned in my earlier post, I have been nursing a strained hamstring for a few weeks. I was concerned that it would give me trouble with all the hills on the Carlsbad course. But like so many times before, what I was worried about was replaced by something I didn't expect.

The rain in the forecast slid back a day and we had perfect running weather - 45 degrees with a slight cloud cover, warming up to probably 55 degrees by the end. We took off in the dark at 6:00am. Sean and I ran together for the first mile before he sped up to try and capture his goal. The sky slowly brightened, and soon the high cloud layer was radiant in hues of orange and purple.

My training was just okay this time around. I had a goal, but no real expectations. As it was dark at the start, I couldn't see my watch to check my pace, so I just ran by feel. I eventually caught up with one of the pacers, but it was still too dark to read his sign to know what his goal pace was. I just trotted alongside until the sun came up. I eventually saw that it was the 3:40 group, which was faster than I wanted. I was hoping for a 3:45 if all went well, so I tried to relax the pace a bit.

We turned inland after mile five, and that is when the real climbing began. And the pain. It wasn't the left hamstring I had been worried about, but my right Achilles tendon that was tight and painful. I have never had any issues with this, so it was a little disheartening so early in the race. I headed uphill, trying not to push off too hard on my right foot.

At the eight mile mark, two thirds of the way up the hill, I checked the clock for the first time. I was about 30 seconds ahead of pace, nearly perfect so far. I saw our awesome supporters just a few steps later. Kristy, Marci and the kids got out of bed at the crack of dawn again to cheer us on. It is hard to explain what a boost it is to see a familiar face along the way. They were out in the cold instead of snuggled up in bed, even though Kristy is still a little dubious about this running thing, and Marci is days away from giving birth.

I stripped off my gloves, hat and arm warmers and after a quick kiss, headed uphill again. I saw Sean on the other side of the street already headed back out, and we exchanged encouraging shouts and a hand slap. After the turn-around at mile nine, gravity helped me pick up the pace and rest my Achilles tendon. The ladies had crossed the street and cheered us on again as we zipped downhill.

The course returned to sea level at mile 13. After another short out and back (and another Sean sighting), I pulled over to try to stretch and massage my Achilles. It was stiff and painful, but nothing I did seemed to help. I felt a stab a few steps after starting up again, so I tried to run a little easier. I also took a half dose of Tylenol at the next water stop.

The course heads out and back along the coast for the next ten miles. The half marathoners joined us at that point so the road was much more crowded, but the sounds of shoes slapping the pavement were drowned out by crashing waves. The road has a number of rolling hills so it was difficult to maintain a pace, and every uphill brought on more pain.

There is a short but sharp uphill at mile 18. It took the wind out of us last year, and my Achilles was dreading it again this year. The pain was too great to run up it, so I stopped to walk. The pain immediately stopped, but I couldn't force myself to keep walking. I had been checking the clock every two miles and I was holding pretty steady at a minute under pace. So I ran backwards. It looked silly, and maybe like I was showing off, but I was able to climb the hill without Achilles pain.

Kristy and Marci cheered us on at miles 17 and 19, before and after the hill. I was in pain, but still feeling like I had things in control. The high fives, smiles, cheers and tambourine gave me an extra boost.

Of course the last six miles is where the test begins. At mile 20 I was still 45 seconds ahead, but at mile 22 I had lost the time cushion completely. I stopped looking at the clock.

Over the proceeding marathons, I have managed to forestall the crash just a bit more each time. But it always comes. Last time in Long Beach, I crashed hard in the last few miles and stumbled across the finish delirious. I had promised I would not go there again. Last year at Carlsbad, I was feeling pretty good at mile 23, but I was walking by mile 24. This time I found something I hadn't before. An extra click on the dial, an ability to go to eleven.

My IT bands slowly tightened over the last few miles, bringing with it the related knee pain. I could feel the despairing thoughts coming on and the voice in my head that wanted me to walk. But this time I felt stronger mentally, more in control than before. Of course I was tired on top of the pain, but where in the past it felt as if someone yanked out my power cord, this time it seemed like more of a steady dimming of the lights. No amount of mental toughness could have carried me through last time, so I had somehow managed my energy better this time.

Maybe it was the rest this past week, maybe it was the Achilles forcing me to run more steadily, or maybe it was simply the cool weather. I can come up with multiple reasons why things went wrong in the past, but it is hard to pinpoint what I did right this time. Whatever it was, I felt focused and (nearly) in control from start to finish. As I rounded the last corner, I saw the clock ticking at the finish line. I saw it approaching the 3:45 mark and tried to pick it up for a push to the finish. I watched it go past 3:45 but I kept trying, not knowing how long it had taken me to cross the finish line. The official clock read 3:45:12 as I broke the imaginary tape.

I was out of breath, spent, and my head was a little swimmy, but at the same time I felt great. No staggering, no threat of passing out, exhausted but in control. Sean found me a few minutes later in the finish area. He had a tough race fighting through his own knee pain, and had crashed hard like I had in Long Beach. He looked wobbly and glazed, and I knew he had pushed himself as hard as he could.

While standing in the endless line to get my gear that I had checked, I found my official time online. I had snuck in under my target to finish in 3:44:57, a new personal best by almost three minutes, and seven minutes faster than last year. Sean had finished four minutes earlier in 3:40:51

It seems a little redundant when I netted my best time to say that this felt like my best race so far. But this was only the second time in eleven marathons where I felt like I had managed my pace, pain and fueling just about perfectly. The other time was in Las Vegas in 2009, and I was aided by a gradual downhill over the last six miles. Even in marathons where I ran new personal best, I have felt like I screwed something up and didn't do my best. This time I think I did.

After the race, we went back to casa de Sean and Marci, enjoyed the spoils of victory (pizza and beer) and swapped stories in the sun. For the first time in a while, I don't have another marathon on the calendar. I will probably run one in the fall, but for now I am going to spend my weekends either biking or hiking. It will be a nice change of pace, and it was nice to go out with a victory.

Just...

2012-01-22T05:58:00.000-08:00

Falling apart

2012-01-20T19:32:00.000-08:00

I am.

Before the shouts of "you're getting Old!" start flowing in, I know. But I still feel like things are falling apart at an increasing speed, geometric as opposed to the linear progression I was expecting.

My vision has obviously been deteriorating for some time, but it feels like in the last few weeks it has fallen off a cliff. The computer screen wears on me that much quicker, and the print of a book seems just a little swimmier. A customer at work asked if I needed glasses. I was in the middle of something, so I didn't really hear the question, but I must have been holding something at arm's length to read it.

There seems to be a pressure at the top of my eyeballs at all times now. It is probably just the fact that I have been diagnosed and glasses are probably only a few days away. Just like everything else, now that I am thinking about it, the problem has moved from the back to the front of my brain. It has me looking forward to glasses rather than dreading them (though I am sure there will be complaints nonetheless).

And Oy my back! My lower back, glutes, and hamstrings have been tweaked for weeks. Always a little sore after a long run, the strain has not gone away since my 21 miler a couple weeks ago. I wake up sore and tight, and the muscles never seem to loosen up. I haven't run since Tuesday, hoping that I can rest the weary muscles for the marathon on Sunday, but work had different ideas. There was the normal hundred times up and down a ladder to strain the legs, but throw in a jackhammer, concrete and brick work and I am feeling a little beat up.

I guess what bothers me is that I am not doing anything more physical than I was a few months ago (probably less to be honest), but my body is worse for it. Time is having its way no matter how I strain to deny it.

The marathon starts in some 35 hours, and I feel like I am limping to the start line. It will be cold, and this strained hamstring may determine how the day goes. There is a four mile hill early on, and it is possible that I might be done in by mile 10. But there is something about race day that pushes the pain back to the background, and it may just carry me through.

I want to show up healthy, but most importantly, walk away healthy. I would like to tell you that I will show up at the start line accepting of my limitations, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't going to look at my watch. Time marches on whether I accept it or not, but I will try to mark time in moments and memories, instead of minutes and maladies.

If you would like to follow along, you can jump on the marathon website for live tracking of the runners. The direct link is this one I believe, but you can also find a link on the marathon website. My bib number is 421, and the other Sean's is 683.

And I am getting older, not Old.

Quote of the day

2012-01-17T09:57:00.000-08:00

Philanthropy is commendable, but it must not cause the philanthropist to overlook the circumstances of economic injustice, which make philanthropy necessary.

~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Sharing guilty pleasures

2012-01-16T17:49:00.000-08:00

Facebook.

What leaps to mind? Amazing online resource that keeps you connected, or platform for narcissistic over-sharing of every detail in your life. The answer is different for everyone. There are a few people in my feed that share even the most banal detail of their day, while others I don't "hear" from for months. Some link to endless articles, while others use Facebook primarily for sharing photos.

I have found myself occasionally defending Facebook. It is a bit of a time suck, but it keeps me in closer contact with distant friends. Things get posted there that aren't big enough events to warrant a phone call or email, but that would probably be mentioned if I was over for dinner. Since those small events sometimes make for the greatest stories, Facebook helps keep me close. No one would have called or emailed about the snow storm in Seattle this week, but I I loved seeing all the photos of their kids playing in the winter wonderland.

Through Facebook, Twitter and blogs, our society has (voluntarily) shifted its idea of what should be kept private, but Facebook has been getting its tendrils deeper and deeper into our business. Many sites encourage (and some require) that you use a Facebook sign-in to use their site. Suddenly what you read, watch and listen to is in the Facebook database, and may just pop up in your feed.

If someone thinks a article or song is worth sharing, it is easy enough for them to do. But I am increasingly seeing things like "John Smith just read this article on XYZ". It appears that Facebook and the news website are looking over your shoulder with a megaphone in hand. Do I really want Spotify to let everyone know that I chose to listen to Vanilla Ice today?

Which brings me to what I listened to on Friday - I am choosing to share my guilty pleasure. Podcasts have been pushing music off my car stereo for a couple of years now, but the Friday night drive home from work has been reserved for music. No playlists, just whole albums so I can listen to those deeper cuts I haven't heard in forever.

I don't remember why this album popped into my head on Friday, but it was one of the first that I ever bought. I came a little late to music. I can remember some introductory presentation in seventh grade that asked what my favorite band was. I didn't have one. I said the Rolling Stones, and then someone asked if I was going to the concert in a couple of months. I mumbled my way out of the corner, but I felt like a huge nerd.

Probably the first album I listened to was the one left in the car by my older brother. It was "Love Drive" by the Scorpions. I played it over and over as I drove in my first set of (borrowed) wheels. And music finally grabbed me. A short time later, thanks to BMG records and their "13 albums for a penny" marketing strategy, I finally had some more music. I don't remember all the cassette tapes (showing my age) that came in that first batch, but I know the album I listened to on Friday was one of them.

The album was "Standing Hampton" by Sammy Hagar. I hadn't listened to it in years, but I knew most every word to all ten songs. The lyrics are stored in that teenage portion of the brain that doesn't ever seem to be overwritten. There are some good ol' rockers including "Only One Way to Rock" and "Heavy Metal" that garnered airplay, as well as "Can't Get Loose" that grabbed at my teenage psyche. The album finishes with a good cover of "Piece of my Heart" that Janis Joplin made famous.

The album didn't qualify as a guilty pleasure back then, but the fact that I have followed Sammy Hagar through Van Halen, good and bad solo records, and now to Chickenfoot probably does. But Friday night with the volume cranked, I didn't much care who saw me singing along. Whatever music you listened to as a teen still grabs you like nothing else can.

When I got home, I mentioned to Matt a different song that had been stuck in my head for a few days. Soon we were both belting out the chorus to "East Bound and Down" from Smokey and the Bandit. Okay, that was a little embarrassing. I may have over-shared.

Finding a rhythm again

2012-01-13T08:58:00.000-08:00

Running and writing are such rhythm things for me, and I have fallen off the wagon a bit of late.

I am running a marathon in nine days, and I am feeling under-prepared (no surprise). After Long Beach a few months ago where felt the worst I ever had at the finish, I wanted to do something different this time around. Even though I had completed the 26.2 miles faster than ever before, I felt I needed to change some things up so I didn't feel delirious a the end. But I really didn't do much differently. Just like last year.

I ran this pair of races last year as well, and there is a pattern developing. I bettered my PR by about four minutes at both Long Beach Marathons, and I felt unusually weak at both finishes. I signed up to run the Carlsbad Marathon three months later, and didn't train as intensely as I had for Long Beach. And here I am again.

The Other Sean is running Carlsbad as well, but we are not setting out together like we did last year. We ran together for the first 23 miles last time, and we had a great day in the sun. We chatted, joked, and pushed each other along as we ran by the ocean. Even though it is a more difficult course than Long Beach, and I didn't push as hard at the end, I still managed to clip a minute of my personal best.

Though of course I have certain expectations about how I will do in nine days, I am going to try to just enjoy the day again and see what happens. After this marathon, I am planning on dusting off the bike and spending my Saturday mornings touring the city on two wheels rather than on two feet. I will continue to run a bit, but I won't be specifically training for anything for a while. This is also the last marathon for the Other Sean for a while. He and Marci have a third child on the way, due in just a few weeks.

As I said, writing is also a rhythm thing for me, and I need to get back at it. I have plenty of things swirling around in my head, but I have not been getting them down on paper. After stopping for any length of time, it is even more difficult to get that first word down. It feels like the first post/chapter should be something special after such a long layoff, and that hamstrings me further. I just need to write my way back into things.

The Other Sean has started a new blog. It is called The Million Word Blog. There is an idea popularized lately that you need to spend 10,000 hours at a skill to master it. Similarly, it is said that you need to write a million words before you truly find your voice. Of course it is an arbitrary number, but it reinforces the dedication required.

So he is taking on the challenge of writing a million words. To get back in the habit, to polish his voice, to find a rhythm. I happen to like his writing voice already, and I can only imagine what it will be like after a million words.

This morning I got up a little early, and wrote before heading to work. When I was in school, I was a night-owl and did all my homework late into the night, but writing in the morning works best for me now. So that is habit I am trying to restart. My experiment in becoming a morning person produced mixed results, but even an extra half hour in the morning could make all the difference.

I plan to run for enjoyment at Carlsbad, and maybe that change in focus will pay off again. By rededicating myself to biking and writing, I am hoping to recapture the joy I used to feel when seeing the world from that perspective. New challenges, new habits, old rhythms.

I think a million words is still off in the distance, but this post is a tidy 697 words. How hard was that?

Quote of the day

2012-01-11T21:44:00.000-08:00

‎To write something, you have to risk making a fool of yourself.

~ Anne Rice

It appears I haven't made a fool of myself in days. Working on getting myself unstuck.

Share the Road quick update

2012-01-06T17:04:00.000-08:00

Share the Road is now available as an Ebook for the Barnes & Noble Nook. Just like the Kindle version, it is $2.99 and can be purchased through the link in the right sidebar. Or you can just search for Share the Road on the Barnes & Noble site. Or I could just point you there.

Also, I have started a new website at SeanDay.net. It is primarily a website and blog about my writing at this point, but it may expand in the future. I of course will continue to share major news and progress here, but I will reserve most of my "writing about writing" to that site.

So if you are interested in how the book was written, edited, and published, and/or you want to keep up on my progress on the next one, head on over. If not, it is safely tucked away in a different corner of the internet.

Year in Review - running, and not much else

2012-01-04T09:55:00.000-08:00

Each year as the calendar flips over from December to January, two things happen for most of us. We look back on the past year, and plan on doing better in the new one. For the last few years, this has included totaling up all the exercise miles for me.

All this running and biking started some nine years ago. It began with the enthusiasm of a friend, and as I said then, it has taken me to some great places physically and mentally, and I have met some wonderful people as well. As a side benefit, it has improved my fitness when time is trying to do the opposite.

The past few years I have totaled up the mileage in running, biking and swimming. Swimming was added when I had plans to do a triathlon. I still have plans, but they have been put on the back burner for now. I quit the gym back in May and haven't done any swimming since. And that is fine for now.

This adventure in fitness all started with biking. I have been focusing more running over the past few years, so the time and miles have been moving from one bucket to another. Long runs in preparation for marathons have been taking up my weekends, so there was less time to pedal.

But I am embarrassed to say that in 2011 I rode my bike only once. Once. Sixteen miles. The only real outside time my bicycle had this year was during the photo shoots for the book cover. Ridiculous.

On the positive side of things, my running went pretty well last year. I ended up running 885 miles in 2011. This is about forty-five miles less than the year before, but still a good total for me. I ran in five events, and set five new personal bests. During the year I shaved:

1:20 off my 5k time,
8:49 off my half marathon time, and
5:38 off my marathon time.

I am approaching that point where my times will stop improving, but for now I am still climbing that hill. It helps to have started later in life. I have another marathon in two and a half weeks. I have no idea how it will go. Training has been okay but uninspired.

After the marathon, I am going to start putting the miles and minutes back in the biking bucket. I miss it and I have no excuses not to ride. I want to get back to exercising for enjoyment instead of simply preparing for a race. To get outside and find a little inspiration.

Share the Road

2012-01-01T22:08:00.000-08:00

IS PUBLISHED!

My December goal was to get my first novel published by the end of the year, and I got it in just under the wire.

I finished off the latest edit back in October, and I sent off a copy of it to one of my beta readers to check for typos and grammar errors. While I was waiting to hear back, I read it again. And edited it again. This really could go on forever.

The book still needed a new cover before I put it up for sale. Back in May when I printed out a few copies, I put together a quick cover to experiment with some image software, and to see how the finished product would look. I used a nice shot I had taken at the Grand Canyon, but it had nothing to do with the story. I had some vague ideas what I wanted the new cover to look like, but I had done nothing for the past six months.

I took my vague ideas and a camera down the coast. I didn't find what I was picturing, but I ended up stopping at one of the beaches just to get something on film. Armed with a self-timer, I used benches, garbage cans, and the bike rack on my truck as makeshift tripods. I took several shots, dashing back and forth, trying out multiple looks, and trying to ignore the odd stares I was getting. I ended up with some good initial shots, and just seeing these first attempts gave me some more ideas.

I went out for another round a day later, and took home more good pictures, but nothing that really grabbed me. I showed the photos to a few people, and walked away with some good feedback and a better idea of what I wanted. Then I was in Seattle for eleven days.

I got my typo report back, fixed the, worked on the website and other background stuff while I was away, but I couldn't do anything about the cover until I got back in town. I returned the night of the 26th and headed out on the 27th for another photo shoot. After lots of dashing back and forth with the self-timer, I had thirty more photos. I couldn't really see how the photos turned out with the sunlight bouncing off of the camera screen, so I went home hoping I had something good. I ended up using the last photo I took, so I am glad I kept trying.

I updated the cover with the new photo, and was ready to submit it for file approval. And I was still messing with the text. I had to get this thing out of my hands. I uploaded it to CreateSpace and waited for them to make sure there weren't any formatting problems. I received their approval on the 29th and immediately ordered a proof. Now I had to wait for the hard copy to show up so I could make sure everything looked okay in print.

The anticipated ship date was sometime around January 6th, so I wasn't going to make my year-end deadline. But I was so close I was willing to call it a victory. Then, somehow, during the post-Christmas chaos of shopping and shipping, CreateSpace and the Post Office had the proof in my hands on the afternoon of December 31st.

I filled out all the last minute synopsis, author bio and pricing information and hit "Approve" at around 5:00pm. I was published. More or less. The book could have been purchased on the CreateSpace site that day, but it didn't show up on Amazon until January 1st. The listing still isn't completely ready as the web machines haven't attached the synopsis and preview, but it is available for sale!

So after much last minute scrambling, my debut novel is live.

I am still working on a website, and the Kindle version isn't live yet (Amazon appears to still be working off its New Year's hangover). There will be a Nook version as well, but the paperback version is now available for $7.99 at Amazon.com. Buy it through this handy Share the Road link, and I make an extra thirty cents on the deal.

My first novel. WooHoo!

Year in Review - resolutions

2011-12-31T12:07:00.000-08:00

I don't normally make a lot of resolutions for January 1st. Sure, there are some goals that I shoot for year round, but I haven't been too tied to the calendar to start things off. But this year was a little different. It was all about the calendar.

Back in January, I decided to have a new goal every month. As I wrote then:

I was out on a run December 30th when I decided to take on the Dry January goal I had read about a couple days earlier. As I ran, I decided that I would keep this monthly theme throughout the year. Each month I will take on a new challenge. By focusing on one thing at a time, I think I will have a better chance at success. Also, there is a built in ending point so I think it will be easier to wrap my head around the commitment.

I didn't have the whole year plotted out at that point, just the first three months really. The monthly resolutions came into focus as the year went on. Some were things I wanted to improve, some were suggestions from friends, and others were challenges I wasn't sure I could complete. There is a list in the sidebar, but for review the resolutions were.

Jan - no alcohol
Feb - workout every day
Mar - write an hour every day
Apr - no fast food
May - no coffee
June - no tv
July - better food choices/lose 10#
Aug - meat only once a week
Sep - 30 minutes or less online
Oct - become a morning person
Nov - NaNoWriMo

Each month was challenging in its own way, but I was surprised to find that many were easier than I had built them up to be. Giving up coffee was not enjoyable, but there was little withdrawal and I wasn't a zombie without it. No tv and no fast food were more logistical challenges than anything else.

Eating meat only once a week was not a real sacrifice, and July's goal of making better food choices was a nice lead in. I did not lose the ten pounds that month, but I was ten pounds lighter when showed up at the marathon start line a couple months later.

The more difficult challenges were toward the end of the year. Spending less than thirty minutes online wasn't exactly a struggle, but it was enlightening. I waste more time than I use when connected to the internet, and the thirty minute limit really made me focus. October's goal of becoming a morning person was probably the hardest on me. The act of rolling out of bed by 5:30 wasn't that difficult, but as the month wore on, the missing hours of sleep took their toll. November's goal was the one that was clearly not accomplished, but I am still happy with the effort and the discipline it took to get as far as I did.

Of course, I was hoping to have some of these thirty day challenges carry over. I drink a little less alcohol, I definitely watch less tv, I spend less time online, I am making better choices with food, and this morning I weighed in twelve pounds lighter than I was at this time last year.

Having this rotating goal set up was an interesting experience. I haven't decided if I will do the monthly goal thing next year, but I would highly recommend it if it interests you at all. By attacking things in bite sized chunks, they were easier to take them all on. I certainly wouldn't have written down twelve goals for the year on January 1st, but now I can look back on a nice list of accomplishments,

December's goal was sort of a secret. I wasn't sure if I was going to accomplish it, but it looks like I will just make it in under the wire. More on that in the next post.

Merry Christmas

2011-12-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

I hope you have a wonderful day full of peace, love, togetherness and joy. May the spirit of the season warm your heart and bring you closer to the one's you love. Merry Christmas one and all!

Santa hiding the pooch's pooch.

A very good present!

And for the MTV generation, a couple of classics. The first is one of the first Christmas songs I listen to each year. "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" by Annie Lennox.

And the second is a fun one from Billy Squier - "Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You." Check out all the old MTV VJs, Paul Simon and other random carolers from thirty years ago.

Christmas is the time to say "I love you"
Share the joys of laughter and good cheer
Christmas is the time to say "I love you"
And a feeling that will last all through the year

So when spirits grow lighter
and hopes are shinin' brighter
then you know that Christmas time is here

Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T17:33:00.000-08:00

Went out for a 20 mile run this afternoon, and it was beautiful. Well, not the running per se...

I parked my car at Marymoor Park, a 640 acre field of goodness at the north end of Lake Sammamish. The park sits between the cities of Bellevue and Redmond, and also connects two sets of trails. My car would be home base, and I would run a ten mile out-and-back in either direction.

I first headed north along the Sammamish River Trail. I have run and biked this path a hundred times, but of course it had been a year since I last set foot on it. There were several people out, getting in their exercise before tomorrow's indulgence. It was in the high 30's when I set out, but the rains had passed.

As the name implies, the trail parallels the river as it moves slowly through the valley. Though Redmond continues to expand, the valley is still relatively open and undeveloped. The bare maple trees scratched the cloudy sky, and fog clung to the evergreens on the hillside. A few brave dogs chased balls into the river, and people seemed to wave and smile just a little more on the day before Christmas.

I turned around just short of the Red Hook Brewery. On many bike rides, the brewery was the marker that we were only five miles from the finish. On many occasions, we stopped for a pint or two before finishing the day. I really should have parked there so that could have been my finish line.

Heading back south, the sun started to peek through the clouds. It was at its highest point for the day, but this time of year that is pretty low. Sunglasses on. Back at the car I refilled my water bottles and grabbed some other fuel. The day had warmed so I stripped off my hat, vest and gloves. I should have picked up my camera as well, but didn't really want to carry it for ten miles. But that was a mistake.

I ran across the park to join up with the East Lake Sammamish Trail. This one is another rails to trails conversion and sticks close to the lake edge. It runs past a number of nice lake-front houses, but much of the land is still open.

The lake was completely calm and no one seemed to be out enjoying it other than some herons sitting on old pilings. The sun was even lower in the sky, and passed easily through the bare trees. Across the way, the trees by the lake looked so bare and brown that they seemed to have been burned in a fire. The low sun lit them up once more, and they stood out starkly against the evergreen backdrop. There were many spots where I kicked myself for not grabbing the camera. All I could do was run a little slower and try to take them in for myself.

The last few miles were difficult as always, but I managed to pick it up a little bit over the last mile. The marathon is now less than a month away, so as much as I would have liked to have skipped out on running during vacation, finals are approaching. But I couldn't have asked for much of a better day, so I am glad I headed out.

Our family doesn't really celebrate Christmas Eve, but my brother is finally back in town and is coming over for dinner. We are heading into the holiday at a nice slow pace this year, and this afternoon's run was a peaceful soul cleanser. Since I was too lazy to grab the camera, you'll just have to take my word for it.

A walk down a shifting memory lane

2011-12-23T23:13:00.000-08:00

Each time I come home, things look a little different.

I have made a point to get back to Seattle about every six months since my move south. Visiting this frequently does not allow much time for change, but it happens anyway. Just driving in from the airport, on ramps have changed, buildings have been knocked down and replaced, Quest Field is now Century Link Field, etc.

Recalling another native that returned after moving south, a friend asked if I had a strong reaction to coming home. That other friend grew misty crossing Lake Washington with Mount Rainier in the background after years in the desert. Since I have been visiting with some frequency, the reactions aren't as dramatic, but I have been gone long enough to have forgotten the particular mixture of gray and green here in the wintertime.

In many ways, it is like I never left. I joked on Facebook that I was "Sleeping in my parents' house, borrowing their car, eating their food, watching Rockford Files on tv, and I have a pimple on my nose. Time travel IS possible."

I am lucky to be able to pick up with friends after a long absence and there is no weird tension or distance. For some it has been only six months, but I caught up with a great friend that I hadn't seen in almost two years. Much had changed in our lives since then, but conversation flowed as if I had seen him just last week.

Of course progress and chaos still have their hand in things. Just across the street from my friend's house, my old elementary school had been razed and rebuilt. Gone were the sprawling, one story buildings, replaced with a three story structure with interior hallways out of the rain. My high school across the street had also had a face lift, though it was at least recognizable.

Unfortunately, a couple of my friends' marriages are also being torn down, and they are still in the rubble stage. It is depressing, disheartening, and I don't wish that on anyone. Whatever is rebuilt in their place will be very different and may not be recognizable, but I can only hope that it is something strong and beautiful in its own way.

Rather unintentionally, I have ended up visiting several of my previous homes. After visiting Buzz and seeing the new elementary school, it was just another few minutes to the house I grew up in. It was strangely similar even after having gone through a period when it was used as a retirement home. While visiting another friend up north, I stopped by my house from when I was married. The bright red coat of paint still looked great, and only the car in the driveway gave away that it had changed hands.

Today I went for a walk around Green Lake with Tami. We talked about all that had changed and the struggles we were all having. Though the subjects have changed, the walk was familiar, as were several things around the neighborhood. The same woman was sitting at the end of the off ramp waving and asking for change, and there is still a block-sized crater just off the lake where a builder ran out of money years ago. Struggles continue.

As I was driving away, it dawned on me that I was only a few blocks from a house I had rented a decade ago. I lived there for a year or two, taking the place over after Matt and Holly moved back to San Diego. We all live together these days, but the Green Lake house was passed off like a baton on their way out of town. That house was my first rental with a backyard, and allowed me to adopt my pooch Sierra.

I stopped by to take a photo of the house both for myself and to send to Matt and Holly. When I pulled up, there was a family out front, letting their toddler and dog run around the yard. Not wanting to freak them out by taking a photo of their house, I introduced myself and mentioned that I had lived there previously. We got to talking, and it turns out they had moved up from San Diego only months before. We swapped stories about the house and my current town. The baton had been passed once more.

Nothing is completely stable, change is constant, the past is consistently being rewritten. But there are certain anchors that keep us tethered. My address has changed, and there are two places I call home, but family and friends are my anchors, and they keep me from drifting too far away.

The chaos and quiet of the season

2011-12-19T11:02:00.000-08:00

Vacatons always feel busier than my normal life, and this one is no different.

The first part of vacation has been largely about seeing friends, and it feels like I haven't even had a chance to unpack or get any sleep. We were up past three in the morning at the sleepover party this weekend, getting in as much fun as possible, and for one night denying our age. There were a few surprise guests, and it was a great way to kick off the Christmas trip.

Speaking of packing, that has changed significantly over the years. I always over pack and that part hasn't changed, but what comes along sure has. I brought two bags for this trip, and one was almost entirely devoted to running. My duffel bag was stuffed with shoes, clothing, warmer clothing, gadgets, water bottles and food.

And all the cords, cords, cords (in my best Grinch voice). Cords to charge and cords to sync. Phone, camera, laptop, GPS, iPod, Kindle - they all need their juice and I am forever looking for an open outlet. I definitely do not unplug on vacation.

As a side note, one bonus of reading on the Kindle is that I can bring as many books as I like and not worry about space or that my suitcase will be overweight. The disadvantage is not being able to read on the plane during takeoff and landing when all electronic devices have to be shut off.

But there have been some unplugged moments as well. I have been out for a few runs in the mizzle, and I am headed up to the mountains to play a round of golf in a few minutes. I managed to forget my sunglasses, but so far that hasn't been an issue. I had forgotten how gray the winters here can get, but at least it looks like there won't be any snow this year.

While the first part of the week has been a rush to see as many people as possible, the second part should be a bit more relaxed as the focus switches to time with the family. It really is a fine mix of chaos and quiet, and it is almost as neatly separated as my luggage.

Home for the holidays

2011-12-16T12:35:00.000-08:00

In reverse migration, I headed north for the winter.

I am up in Seattle to spend Christmas with my extended family, and see as many friends as the schedule allows. Like I said last year, it is odd to leave where you live halfway through the season, but it is more difficult this year.

Unfortunately, Kristy was not able to make the trip, so we will be spending Christmas apart. We spent the preceding weekends decorating, shopping and enjoying the lights of Balboa Park, but I will miss spending the next week and Christmas Day with her.

As a special treat, Matt and Holly prepared a lovely going away/early Christmas dinner the day before I left. Kristy and I were able to spend a mini Christmas together with great friends. And they even sent me off with a gift that will be a hit at another gathering of friends up here.

Each Christmas season for more years than I can remember, many of my Washington friends have gathered for a sleepover party. It is an awesome combination of the warmth of the season, and the festive feeling of a New Year's celebration. The party goes late into the night, and most spend the night curled up in a sleeping bag wherever they can find floor space. The party has taken on new significance now that I live a thousand miles away. It am looking forward to seeing everyone and spending a long evening together.

I am fortunate to have so many good friends in two different places, but it of course makes it difficult to see everyone as often as I like. The large gatherings around Christmas time makes it that much easier to get it all in. I will see several friends at the sleepover, and I will get to see most of my extended family Christmas evening.

I didn't think I was going to be able to make it to Seattle for the holidays this year, but a special Santa came through for me. It was a wonderful gift, and I can't ask for much more than to be able to spend the holidays with family and friends.

Except of course to have San Diego and Seattle be an hour's drive away from each other.

Quote of the day

2011-12-13T11:58:00.000-08:00

You can never change the past, but you can see it.
You can never see the future, but you can change it.

~ Charles Laquidara, former morning DJ on WBCN in Boston. Quote passed along by Phedippidations.

Maybe I'll look smarter

2011-12-11T15:04:00.000-08:00

Time marches on.

I have grown a beard for the winter again. I do this most years as some sort of nod to the season. For a few years, I dyed it and my hair white for my Christmas Eve shift at work to get in the Santa spirit. I haven't worn a beard in a few years, and unfortunately I have discovered that there is less need to dye it white these days. It is still more red than not, but there is noticeably more gray this time around.

There is still plenty of hair up top, and I could lose a year or two by shaving off the beard, but I have marked another milestone to age this week.

I need glasses.

I have managed to avoid this for 44 years, but it is time. I think I am the last to wear glasses in my extended family, so I had a pretty good run against genetics. Similarly, I won't expect much sympathy from anyone, and I am sure I will hear "It's about time" more than once.

I have struggled with night vision for a number of years, so driving at night was always a little taxing. And the last few years, staring at a computer screen for more than an hour would leave my eyes strained and tired. But the thing that tipped me over was reading. I swear that print is getting smaller in magazines in an effort to save paper, but I can't deny that things have been getting blurrier.

I went in to get my eyes checked on Thursday. When they had me fill out the patient information, one of the questions was when I had my eyes checked last. Outside of getting my driver's license (which I passed only a year ago), it has probably been since high school. I was overdue.

The verdict - I have an astigmatism in each eye in need of four levels of correction, and my up close/reading vision is needs six levels of correction. And it turns out that my distance vision is also in need of some correction. Like I said, I was overdue.

So since I have multiple problems (understatement), I would need one set of glasses for reading and another for driving, and both would probably have to manage the astigmatism somehow. Or I jump right past regular glasses and head straight for progressives.

From what Kristy and Holly have been telling me (both work in the eyewear industry), adults who have never worn glasses have the most difficult time adapting - set in our ways, prone to whining, etc. Add to that the additional challenge of needing to look through different parts of the lenses in order to see...well I am in for an adjustment.

I am both dreading it and excited to get glasses. I need them most to read, but I really interested to see what it does for my long distance vision. It doesn't feel like I have much of an issue, as I can still see individual leaves rather than trees being big green blobs, but I may not know what I am missing. I am most looking forward to getting rid of the eye fatigue.

Now I just need to settle on a set of frames. This is no small task, but I am fortunate to have a couple of professionals ready to tell me what works/looks good. More to follow...

Quote of the day

2011-12-07T09:00:00.000-08:00

“I have forced myself to contradict myself,
in order to avoid conforming to my own taste.”

~ Marcel Duchamp

The runner's high

2011-12-04T09:24:00.000-08:00

"People talk about the runner's high. The only runner's high that I've really felt is when I stop running."

~ Jerry Meyers in "Spirit of the Marathon"

The elusive runner's high. I am not sure I have experienced as other's have. It is generally described as a rush of endorphins that occurs when you have pushed your body to the limit. The body reacts, and the release of endorphins not only help negate the pain you are feeling, but can also give you a sense of happiness and well being.

I have pushed my body to the limit on more than one occasion. I have crossed finish lines in physical disarray where I was unsure I would be able to walk upright for much longer. But the runner's high has not shown up in these moments. And boy could I have used it a few months ago.

I have had experiences that feel like a runner's high, and it is often when I am out running, but it is almost exclusively triggered by my mind and not my body. There are times when I am plugging away and I imagine rounding a corner to see the finish line or a loved one, and a wave of happiness and well-being passes through me. I can feel it spread across my skin in a tingling sensation like sunlight on a cold day.

Though it is certainly more likely to happen when I am exercising, it is the thought, the vision, the imagined scene that seems to set it off rather than the effort. Most often the thought is triggered by music.

Yesterday I was out on a long run in preparation for my next marathon. I generally listen to podcasts, but lately I have been mixing in music. My pace always seems to pick up slightly when people stop talking and they start singing.

I don't spend a lot of time setting up playlists for each run, and have just been going through my song library alphabetically (backwards) plugging in four or five songs as musical breaks. Near mile 16 of my 17 mile run, "Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls came on. This is a longtime favorite and it picked me up. It was immediately followed by "City of Blinding Lights" by U2. And the high kicked in.

I have watched the coverage of the Ironman Championships for the last few years. You can not help but be inspired by watching these people go beyond what they thought was possible. There is a time limit to the race, and it is said that the last hour is when you see the most courageous people. Many of the pros who finished hours before, come back to watch the last competitors cross the line.

On NBC's 2006 Ironman presentation, "City of Blinding Lights" was played over a montage of weary finishers exaltedly completing the challenge, spent and forever changed. When I hear the song, I can not help but think of the joy and elation these people felt. And when I heard the song yesterday, a sense of joy passed through me in a wave of warmth and goosebumps, inspiring me to push onto the finish.

An additional connection that I did not make until now was that I was at mile 16 of 17, and those finishers are between the 16th and 17th hour to beat the cutoff. Hard to imagine.

But I found last week that I don't need to be pushed to the red to have that music triggered feeling happen. I was between mile one and two of the Turkey Trot when I passed by some speakers blasting the theme from Rocky. And damned if it didn't get to me, as cheesy as that sounds.

I have heard running compared to hitting yourself with a hammer - the only time if feels good is when you stop. Not true. Of course it feels great to finish, and it is much more difficult in the moment, but there are times when you can feel elation during the struggle. It is all in the power of the mind.

Quote of the day

2011-12-01T18:00:00.000-08:00

Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.

~ Winston Churchill

Fail?

2011-11-30T09:40:00.000-08:00

I have given up (for now).

I am not going to make it to 50,000 words by the end of the day. I am not going to even get close. My word count sits at 30,194 at this point. I may add another thousand by day's end, but it was clear more than a week ago that it just wasn't going to happen this year.

- Begin excuse portion -

I don't have any valid excuses, but here is what seems to have happened. Some of the excitement was gone this year. You can never recapture that first-time rush, that panic, pain and ecstasy. Since I was successful last year, I knew I could do it again this time. And somehow, knowing that I could succeed took some of the motivation away. I wasn't working without a net.

In fact there were too many nets. I wanted to make this one different. There had to be more characters, more stories intertwining. I wanted the story to be more distant from my own experience. I wanted a book I could actually describe in a synopsis and make it sound interesting.

I don't know if you could call it a sophomore slump when your first effort wasn't a hit, but it felt like a slump nonetheless. I hit a personal rough patch mid-month, and lost all motivation. Nothing dramatic happened - no family crisis, no health problems, no accident that broadsides you on a random Tuesday - it was just a confluence of things that sent me spiraling.

This time around, I had more of an idea of where the story was going. This should have made it easier, but it did take away from some of the excitement of discovery. There are still many things that came to me in the moment, but somehow the scenes that I had planned a bit ahead of time were harder to start. There is sort of a fear that I won't be able to pull them off.

But of course I can't pull anything off that I don't start.

- End of excuse portion -

I may have failed to reach the 50,000 mark within the 30 day challenge, but I will finish this book. Though I haven't read it yet, I think there is something there, there. The pressure of a deadline forces me to sit down and write whether I feel creative or not, but I need to be able to do that on my own any month of the year if I want to continue to have this be a part of who I am.

I am digging my way out of the slump I fell into. Though I am disappointed I did not pull off the NaNoWriMo challenge this year, I do not consider 30,000 words a failure. Beating myself up over it (as tempting as that is for me) will not make me any more motivated.

I will get inspired again. I will sit my butt in the chair and write. I will finish what I started.

Just not today.

Leftovers

2011-11-28T09:50:00.000-08:00

George Carlin once said, "...A leftover. What a sad word that is. Leftover. How would you like to be...a leftover? Well, it wouldn't be bad if they were taking people out to be shot!"

Well the four day eating marathon is over, but the food is not nearly gone. There were many hits, and only one miss.

As mentioned earlier, after going out for dinner on Thanksgiving, Kristy and I made a turkey dinner for two on Friday. Turkey, cornbread stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes with horseradish, and pie for desert. Everything was wonderful, though I sort of missed the store-bought cranberry sauce in the shape of a can for nostalgia sake.

She bought the smallest turkey available, but even so there were plenty of leftovers. But of course this was part of the plan. Oh the turkey sandwiches! Saturday's selection was turkey, cranberry sauce and melted gouda on soft ciabatta bread. Sunday we had grilled turkey paninis with thick pickles and horseradish butter.

The only miss was when we tried to make Wassail. We forgot it on the stove, and it turned into this creepy oozing mass of black goo. It was bubbling and collapsing in on itself like something out of Harry Potter. I think the remains are permanently burned into the pan.

I think we have only put a small dent in the supply of turkey, but the leftovers keep coming. We had dinner with Matt and Holly on Sunday, and we did a full ham dinner with all new side dishes. I think we made it through most of the yams and veggie casserole (and the mulled wine), but there was so much ham leftover that each house now has a big Tupperware full.

George Carlin again - "Leftovers make you feel good twice. First, when you put it away, you feel thrifty and intelligent: ‘I’m saving food!’

Then a month later when blue hair is growing out of the ham, and you throw it away, you feel really intelligent: ‘I’m saving my life!’"

Somehow through all of this, I managed to not gain a pound. Inconceivable!

Introduction to Vonnegut

2011-11-27T12:22:00.000-08:00

Amazon has been doing a Daily Deal with a very inexpensive Kindle book each day. Today's offer was for Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut. I don't think I have ever read anything by Vonnegut, but Sean H had brought his name up recently so he was top of mind.

At 99 cents, the deal is already hard to pass up, but what really got me was the opening paragraph of the introduction they posted on Facebook.

"This is the only story of mine whose moral I know. I don't think it's a marvelous moral; I simply happen to know what it is: We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be."

Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-25T11:54:00.000-08:00

Traditions.

We have a new Thanksgiving tradition to "Move your feet before you eat." Sean and Marci have been running the Oceanside Turkey Trot 5k since it began five years ago, and I joined them last year. We all signed up again, and we brought along four more to the fold.

While they were cheering us on at the marathon back in October, Marci began working on Kristy to encourage her to step across the line from supporter to participant. By the time the race was over, she was semi-convinced to do the Turkey Trot. Marci said she would be walking it since she would be seven months pregnant, so it seemed harmless. Even so, I think Kristy bargained that she would walk it if Holly would.

Marci is not only a good salesman, but an enthusiastic advocate for running. Soon she had talked Holly and Matt into the 5k, so there was no backing out.

While we were driving up, Kristy made some construction paper Indian headdresses and Pilgrim hats. When we met up with Sean and Marci, they were wearing foam turkey hats. Several other people ran in full costume as turkeys, Indian princesses, and one pair ran as a gorilla chasing a banana. It was the first running event for Matt, Holly and Kristy, and this one is a great mix of people celebrating Thanksgiving in an fun, festive and active way.

I ended up running by myself as I had signed up for a challenge to see if I could beat my previous 5k PR. The ladies planned to walk while pushing the kids, but Matt had been getting back on the road after several bouts with injury, so he wanted to do some running. He and Sean ran the whole race together.

Although she said she had planned to walk, soon Marci was encouraging Holly and Kristy to run a bit. Taking on a coach/drill sergeant persona, soon she was saying they should alternate one minute of running with one minute of walking. Kristy was glad she had worn her sneakers instead of the warmer boots she had planned on.

I think the person that loved it the most was Annabelle. She LOVES to be outside, and whenever the ladies were running and there was more wind in her face, Annabelle was giggling. From what Kristy and Holly were saying, knowing that Annabelle was having a ball, it made it easier when it came time to run.

I surprised myself with a new PB of 21:20, about a 45 second improvement. After I finished, I backtracked and ran in with Sean and Matt. Then I went back to meet up with the ladies and get some more pictures. It was a really great morning. Since it was their first 5k, and event of any distance, Matt, Holly and Kristy came away with personal bests as well.

We went back to Sean and Marci's to hang out for a bit, before going our separate ways. The rest of the crew was headed to LA to spend Thanksgiving with Sean's family. Kristy and I couldn't make it since we both have pooches that need medical attention at this point. We debated whether to go out for dinner, or make our own Thanksgiving at home. We kind of split the difference.

We went out for dinner for Thanksgiving and had a lovely meal at the Prado in Balboa Park. The restaurant had a special menu for Thanksgiving, and we both enjoyed every single thing we picked out, right down to the fancy drinks. We were seated on the terrace and were surrounded by trees and twinkling lights. After dinner we walked around Balboa Park talking in the beautiful lights.

Today we (and when I say we, I mean 99% Kristy) are making a more traditional Thanksgiving feast for dinner tonight. We are also planning on a ham dinner with Matt and Holly on Sunday, so we are going to stretch Thanksgiving into four days.

Almost every year I have been with my family on Thanksgiving. Last year, we had a smaller gathering of friends over at Matt and Holly's, but though I worked for a decade in a restaurant that hosted Thanksgiving, I had never dined out on the day. Dinner at the Prado was excellent, and I am looking forward to the extended weekend of Thanksgiving goodness.

One tradition maintained, another updated. This was a different sort Thanksgiving, but wonderful.

Quote of the day

2011-11-22T09:19:00.001-08:00

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”

~ John F. Kennedy

Power of pink

2011-11-20T15:45:00.000-08:00

Went for a run yesterday.

My running, like my writing, has been more sporadic than usual. I am running a 5k in a few days, and the marathon is a little more than two months away. I should be logging lots of miles for the marathon, with some speed work sessions to improve my 5k time.

Not so much.

My runs during the first couple of weeks after the Long Beach Marathon felt great. I was surprised at how well I recovered after feeling so terrible at the finish. But November seems to be the month of slumps. I have only been getting out twice a week lately, and I seem to be getting slower. I have been achy and unmotivated and it seems that much harder to get out the door before work.

But the weekend runs have continued, and I went out for a fifteen mile run yesterday. And I found a little inspiration.

Unplanned, I ended up smack in the middle of the Susan G Komen 3 Day Walk for the Cure. During this event, participants walk a total of 60 miles over the course of three days to raise money for breast cancer research. According to their website, they have raised over $1.9 billion dollars since 1982, when Nancy G. Brinker promised her dying sister, Susan G. Komen, she would do everything in her power to end breast cancer forever.

I have a friend that is breast cancer survivor, and we ran a couple of events in her honor when she was sidelined with chemo treatments. We printed up badges with her face on it, and pink was the color of the day. But the 3 Day event was a whole different experience.

I ran along the river path like a salmon swimming upstream through a sea of pink. Thousands and thousands of people dressed in crazy outfits, with silly and suggestive team names walked by. They walked with survivor names and those they had lost emblazoned on their backs. They walked and walked and walked. They just kept coming, and I would run past them for miles.

Hundreds of supporters lined the path handing out refreshments and shouts of encouragement. Pink ribbons and temporary tattoos were passed out like Halloween candy, and a wall of people wore gloves on one hand because they were giving out so many high-fives. It was like a marathon course but more inspiring in a way. The walkers were moving slower, so they could enjoy each supporter individually.

Many marathoners run to raise money for various charities. Team in Training is a staple at most every event, and you can pick them out of the crowd with their purple shirts. They even have their own set of supporters cheering them on. But here at the 3Day, every one of the walkers was there to support their loved ones and raise money for countless other strangers. Every walker was there for someone else.

I was running through, alongside, or within sight of the pink brigade for probably 11 of my 15 miles. I was reminded over and over of the fight that so many are going through, and the strength and power of people gathering for one focus.

My run was a bit of a struggle for my sore bones, but yesterday I had no excuse to quit.

Degrees of separation

2011-11-12T14:26:00.000-08:00

Like a million little doorways
All the choices we made
All the stages we passed through
All the roles we played

For so many different directions
Our separate paths might have turned
With every door that we opened
Every bridge that we burned

~ "Ghost of a Chance" by Rush

Woke up to a rainy morning, more typical of Seattle than San Diego.

I will catch myself once in a while, slightly dumb-founded that I live in California. For the first 42 years of my life, I lived within a 25 mile circle. My family did not move around when I was younger, I went to college near home, I did not get a job that required me to pull up stakes. I stayed home.

These days I drive fifty miles to work, along highways carved through rocky hillsides dotted with avocado trees. I carry my 70 pound dog up and down concrete steps so she can pee near a palm tree. I run along the ocean past tourists who traveled miles and time zones to get here. Rain is an aberration and I wear shorts year round.

It was a thousand decisions, great and small, in my control and not that lead me here. Of course this is true of everyone's life. You never know what would have happened if you turned left instead of right that day. There are obvious ones that lead me to San Diego, but I have been thinking farther back recently.

In the summer of 1992, I had just returned from a trip of a lifetime after graduating from college. My brother and I spent more than a month on a whirlwind trip across Europe. It was an incredible adventure that I don't imagine I will ever repeat.

When I returned, I did not have a job or a place to live. I moved in with my folks for a couple of months while I looked for work and saved up some money.

I applied for work in a few local restaurants. Two called back. The Keg called first, and though I gave a stupid answer when they asked during the interview why I chose the Keg (because it was close), they hired me. I met many great people, and most all of my friends can be traced back there by one or two degrees of separation.

When you think of a phone call that changed your life, this is not what you would picture. But if Billy McHale's had called first, I never would have met all these people or had the same adventures. I would not have met my former wife or the woman I am with today. I would not have met the couple I live with, nor the man I work beside, had I not worked at the Keg.

I try not to obsess over the endless 'what-ifs' of it all, but I have been known to ruminate over regret. I am doing much better these days, but every so often I slip back into bad habits, and through a confluence of factors, that is what happened this week. I spiraled, I self-berated, I carried it under the surface and was a jerk at work on Thursday.

Kristy is out of town, and I am house sitting and taking care of the old dogs. I have had a place to myself for the first time in a while. I was looking forward to some solitude and getting lots of writing done, but I have felt more like a hermit. I've barely been running, and the writing hasn't been much better. I have dug myself into another hole this year, and I need to claw my way back out.

I posted on Facebook a shot of a sunset from the back deck along with the quotes from Seneca,

‎"Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life."

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

This week I regressed, but tomorrow is a new day, next week is a new week. Maybe I needed to go through this valley to remind myself how miserable I used to be when I shut myself off and hid away like a hermit. To remember all I need to be thankful for in this season of Thanksgiving.

I am thankful for my family and friends, here and a thousand miles away. I wish I could bring these two places together somehow, especially during the holiday season. I am thankful for a temporary job that lasted a decade and introduced me to all of you. And I am thankful that Billy McHale's didn't call first .

Quote of the day

2011-11-07T08:50:00.000-08:00

"We need people who can actually do things. We have too many bosses and too few workers. More college graduates ought to become plumbers or electricians, then go home at night and read Shakespeare."

~ from an Andy Rooney esssay on finding a good job, March 21, 2010

Andy Rooney passed away this weekend at the age of 92, shortly after retiring from 60 Minutes

Programming notes

2011-11-01T09:20:00.000-07:00

A couple of things...

National Novel Writing Month begins today! This will be my second attempt at writing 50,000 words in 30 days, on the way to a second novel. I am about as stressed out as last time, maybe a little bit more. Somehow the second time around is harder. The first time, you know it is going to be difficult, but you don't know something until you have gone through it. The first time, there is that ignorance is bliss, beginners luck thing you have going for you. The second time, you know how hard it was, but you signed up again anyway. Kind of like a marathon.

Speaking of which, I have another one on the calendar. I will be running the Carlsbad Marathon on January 22nd, a scant 82 days away. I was planning on taking some time off, but Sean H made a convincing argument that I should join him on his last marathon for the foreseeable future (he has a third child on the way). Of course he really didn't have to twist my arm that hard. I am anxious to see if I can figure out how to finish while still being able to walk a straight line and speak coherently.

In other news, Amazon.com has made an agreement with the state of California to begin collecting taxes sometime next year. As I wrote back in July, I think this levels the playing field for local stores, and restores revenue for states that are having to slash much needed programs. This agreement also means that the affiliate program has been reinstated for California residents.

You will notice that there is an Amazon.com search bar in the sidebar to the right. I also have an affiliate store set up with products I use, like and recommend. Many of us do our shopping online (especially around the holidays), and you can find nearly everything you want at Amazon.

If you stop by my blog and start your shopping with my search bar, I would really appreciate it. This one extra click will net me a small percentage of the purchase price for the referral, without increasing what you pay. Any money received will go toward paying off Sierra's vet bills.

With the month of panicked writing at NaNoWriMo ahead, I am not sure how often I will be posting in the coming weeks. I may disappear for a while, or I may be coming here to procrastinate and write about the bug I saw at work.

Happy November!

Slow road to normal

2011-10-31T09:00:00.000-07:00

Sierra made more tentative steps toward her normal self over the weekend. She has some difficulty getting up, but she is walking a bit better each day. She still wears the harness so she has a sort of handle on top that helps me guide her. She veers to the right as she walks, so I have to guide her through narrow passages until we get outside.

The past few nights have been ones of interrupted sleep. Though I have surrounded her bed with blankets and other dog beds, she still manages to scoot her way off of them onto the hardwood floor where she struggles to get up. A few times during the night, I have to pick her up and get her back onto her bed. But I was only up twice last night, and we have graduated to a nightlight instead of the lamp being on all night, so sleep was a little easier.

She tackled her first set of stairs yesterday. She decided to go out back at Kristy's place for some reason, even though she had just been out. I didn't see it, but it sounded like it wasn't too graceful. After taking care of business, she waited at the bottom to be carried up.

Her vision is still below normal, but also improving. She has that vacant look in her eye until you get up close. For this reason, we are blocking off the two steps into the living room while we are gone so she doesn't tumble down them accidentally.

According to the information on Idiopathic Vestibular Disease, much of the progress is made in the first 72 hours. Improvement slows at that point, and it can take a few weeks to get back to close to normal. She of course can't tell me how she feels or where it hurts, so I can only look to the symptoms to make sure she is getting better.

She is eating normally, and has moments of happy panting when she is comfortable, but her tail is down more often than it is up. But she had a nice visit from an out of town friend yesterday, and being showered with love and scrubs behind the ear is the best medicine at this point.

I think we have made it through the toughest part. On to the slow road to normal. Thank you all for your concern, thoughts and prayers. We both appreciate it.

Everyone needs something to lean on from time to time.
And a sheepskin pillow.

Update

2011-10-27T08:25:00.000-07:00

She is home.

I received an update yesterday morning indicating that she was making slow progress. She had eaten on her own that morning, and the jerky eye movement was a little less prevalent. She was still unable to stand on her own, but they said that if she didn't get worse that I should be able to pick her up in the evening.

They questioned what the home situation was, because she would need to be looked after. I told her that someone was going to be home during the day, so we could keep an eye on her. From everything I had heard, there is little we can do to help her other than keep her safe and let the thing run its course. As long as she was stable, an amateur was about as good as a professional. I wanted her home where she would feel more comfortable, and quite frankly I couldn't afford the continuing charges at the emergency vet.

The evening call revealed that she was still making slow progress. They had taken her outside after she had messed her cage. The doctor said she was able to walk with help, but was not walking "purposefully". I guess that means she wasn't taking the lead and was confused as to why she was out there.

I arrived at about 6:45pm and was handed a stack of paperwork detailing all that had gone on. I have only been through half of it, but there isn't much new information so far. I was given a CD with her chest X-rays, though. After some more time and questions with the tech, they wheeled Sierra out on a gurney. Though she had been able to walk earlier, she was having trouble with the slick tile floors. It was a little disheartening to see her still on a gurney, but I just wanted to take her home.

Kristy and I sat with her in the back of the van for a while to try to calm and reassure her. She still seemed to be lost and wasn't tracking us very well, but she was definitely better than the day before when she was downright panicked.

When I arrived home, I sat with her again as the vet had mentioned that the movement of the car ride would disorient her further. Matt helped me get her out of the car and get her harness on. The harness will act as a handle on her back so we can guide her along. We walked around the yard, and after about ten minutes she seemed to be ready to head inside. Exhausted, she fell asleep in the living room.

She was restless and panting through the night. I had surrounded her with dog beds and carpets in case she decided to get up, and I slept with the light on so we could both have our bearings. At 4:00am she had some water and we went outside, both of which seemed to help. She has eaten and taken care of business this morning. She still needs to be helped up and have a hand on her back to guide her along, but once outside she is walking with purpose.

We are in the wait and see mode. As long as she continues to improve, the diagnosis was likely correct. If she does not get noticeably better over the next few days, more test will need to be run to see if something worse is happening.

But it is good to have her home.

Sierra

2011-10-26T07:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was scary.

I got a call from my roomie Matt that there was something wrong with my dog. He found her in my room howling and rolling continuously against the wall. She was completely disoriented, and had peed and pooped all over the room. She was panting heavily, couldn't stand, and didn't seem to be able to see him.

By the time I made it home from the jobsite, he had given her some agave syrup, thinking that she was going through a hypoglycemic crash from her diabetes. He had been able to get her up, but she was unstable and was walking in circles. He had put her out on the deck with her bed while he cleaned up the mess in my room.

She was still panting heavily when I arrived, and appeared disoriented and freaked out. Her head lolled to one side, and when she could stand, she leaned heavily to the right, propping herself up against the sliding glass door. She was not very responsive, and could not be calmed by voice or petting.

I carried her out to the truck, but she would not sit in the back seat, essentially throwing herself to the right and onto the floor. Matt let me borrow his minivan, and we got her in the back with her bed. While I drove her to the vet, she lay panting, braced against the back hatch.

Our regular vet sent us on to the emergency hospital without even seeing her. When I arrived at our second stop and described Sierra's condition, they rolled out a gurney. I didn't want to open the hatch for fear that she would just tumble out. I climbed over the back seat and grabbed her harness while the tech opened the hatch. It took considerable effort to hold her back as she pressed hard to roll out to her right.

They took her in and gave me some paperwork to fill out. I was halfway through when Kristy walked in (Matt had called). I was properly freaked out, and as some terrible coincidence had seen a dead dog at the side of the highway as I was driving. I had mostly kept it together to that point, but once I saw Kristy, the tears came. I don't know why that happens exactly. I guess once there is someone there who cares and can help, the fear you were keeping at bay rushes in and you can feel vulnerable for a moment. I sat in the lobby with Sierra's collar in my hand, waiting for the vet.

The initial diagnosis is Idiopathic Vestibular Disease. According to the vet and this site,

The vestibular system is what gives people, and dogs, their balance, coordination and equilibrium. When dogs develop IVD, their equilibrium becomes disrupted suddenly, dramatically and without warning. The profound symptoms of this disorder can incapacitate the dogs and are frightening for owners, as well.

The vet mentioned that rolling over is common to dogs trying to find their equilibrium, as is rapid irregular eye movements (nystagmus) as they try to track the world that is spinning around them. Unfortunately, “Idiopathic” means of unknown origin, and though the symptoms line up very well, it is generally diagnosed by eliminating other problems. Sierra has already had a chest x-ray (which came back fine) and the blood work is due in this morning.

They don't know what causes IVB, and there is little they can do to speed the recovery. The good news at this point is that if it is IVB, dogs generally recover on their own over a few weeks. There may be lingering symptoms like a head tilt. Sierra stayed overnight and is still there while we wait it out. They have her on antibiotics in case an ear infection set this off, and on anti-nausea meds for the spinning. She is on IV fluids as she was still panting heavily and would not drink. She would not eat initially, but they were able to hand feed her late last night.

She doesn't appear to be in pain, but is understandably confused and freaked out. Matt said the howling was unsettling, and I am sure was a result of Sierra being so scared. It is hard to watch helplessly as anyone suffers. I am worried about my little girl and still a little freaked out. I will let you know when I hear anything more.

...early to rise

2011-10-25T06:38:00.000-07:00

5:30 in the morning. A beautiful time to feel so ugly.

I am in the home stretch of the current monthly challenge. I have been getting up at 5:30am weekdays, and 7:00am on the weekends. It hasn't been any easier or more difficult to hear the alarm go off so early, but it is wearing me down physically.

As I suspected, I have had difficulty getting to sleep early enough to get a full night's rest. My body doesn't seem to shut down before 10 or 11, though the backlog of exhaustion has reduced the time between my head hitting the pillow and my eyes closing.

But there have been bright spots in the darkness. The house is so quiet and peaceful this early in the morning, and I am up an hour and a half before the sun. While I think the lack of light could be depressing in the long haul, it feels like that time is mine to use before the day begins.

I have been working on what I hope will be the final edit of the novel each morning, and after a final run-through looking for typos, I think it is ready to be put to bed. On several mornings, I have written for an hour, run for an hour, and still been able to get out the door by 8:00am if necessary. It is a great feeling to get things accomplished before the day really gets going.

I have found the appeal of being a morning person this month. but it is not what my body is built for. I am missing the all important "Early to bed" part that might make me "healthy, wealthy and wise." Through repetition, I could browbeat it into partial submission, but it is ultimately a losing battle and I think my health would eventually suffer.

5:30am is a time all to yourself, and there is beauty there, but staying snuggled up in bed on the weekends is sounding pretty good right now.

Picture of the day

2011-10-20T21:25:00.000-07:00

So, I am seeing more unusual creatures these days, hanging around with Kristy and Project Wildlife. But look who showed up at work to say hello.

A praying mantis! His head would swivel and track me as I worked on the patio cover, always keeping a compound eye on me.

I had never seen one outside of a zoo or Pixar film. It was pretty cool. And a little creepy.

I made a difference to that one

2011-10-16T07:16:00.000-07:00

While walking along a beach, an elderly gentleman saw someone in the distance leaning down, picking something up and throwing it into the ocean.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, picking up starfish one by one and tossing each one gently back into the water.

He came closer still and called out, “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

The old man smiled, and said, “I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?”

To this, the young man replied, "I'm throwing these starfish back into the ocean. You see, it's low tide and they've all been washed up onto the shore. If I don't throw them back into the sea they'll die from lack of oxygen."

Upon hearing this, the elderly observer commented, "But there must be thousands of starfish on this beach, you can't possibly get to all of them. There are simply too many. And what about all the other starfish on the other beaches? You can't possibly make a difference!"

The young man listened politely. Then he bent down, picked up another starfish, threw it into the back into the ocean past the breaking waves and said, “It made a difference for that one.”

The first time I heard the Starfish Story (author unknown), it was on the podcast, Common Sense with Dan Carlin. Dan (a political independent) was using the Starfish Story to describe how people of different backgrounds and political leanings view "Lost Causes". Some look at a problem and feel that it is too big to solve, and that their time and effort is better spent on things that can be completely fixed. Others idealistically plunge ahead believing that if they can just change one life, than it was worth the cost and effort. The Starfish Story was a tidy metaphor.

The second time I heard it, it was more literal and less metaphor. I heard it in connection with Project Wildlife, a non-profit devoted to animal rescue and rehabilitation. Each year, Project Wildlife takes in nearly 10,000 birds and mammals representing 320 species. Wild animals that have been injured, orphaned, or come out of their habitat and into contact with humans. The animals are most often brought in by the public to one of two centers in San Diego County.

Through the spring and summer, a large influx of babies must be nurtured, raised and hand fed by volunteers. The adult animals are brought back to health and released whenever possible. Over 500 people volunteer their time, and over a hundred of those (Kristy included) are rehabilitators who provide pre-release care at their own homes.

Some animals are too injured to fend for themselves, while others have had too much human contact to have the wariness necessary for survival. These are non-releasable and are kept as education animals. They visit schools and other community events to raise public awareness.

Project Wildlife is funded by individual donations, grants and community foundations. Kristy and I attended their big fundraiser two weekends ago. People bought tickets to enjoy an afternoon of wine tastings and food donated by a chef who is also a friend of Project Wildlife. There were silent and live auctions of donated goods with all the proceeds going to support the fight. Some people skipped the auction and gave money for much needed equipment for nothing in return. And the education animals were out to say hello and thank you.

Project Wildlife is one of the largest non-profit wildlife rehabilitation organizations in the United States. They also boast a release rate that is eight percentage points higher than the national average. Hundreds of volunteers spend thousands of hours, and wonderfully supportive patrons spend thousands of dollars to enable this successful effort.

But even though they lead the country, they only succeed 60% of the time. They will never save all the animals that reach their doorstep. They kick ass to save more than half. But every time they go into the woods to release a opossum, or stand on the beach to let a bird fly free, they know, "I made a difference to that one."

For more information, check out their website.

The other Sean

2011-10-11T13:45:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure which one of us is the Bizarro Sean, but Sean H and I seem to be carbon copies some times, mirror images at other. I just can't lose the guy, not that I am trying.

I ran my tenth marathon on Sunday, and I have finished five of them with Sean. He was the experienced one I could turn to with stupid questions as I prepared for my first in D.C. back in 2006. We had only seen each other a couple of times before then, but we became fast friends. We all set out together, and I finished hand in hand with his wife Marci, who I have run three full marathon with as well.

He is more outgoing and enthusiastic, and loves running more than I do. His passion has carried me to sign up for a number of great events. He and Marci actually went so far as to pay for my registration for the Las Vegas Marathon a couple of years ago. Creating that goal helped me get back out onto the roads and moving forward.

I am slowly catching up in experience, but still count on him for council. We have become each other's sounding board for running and writing over the past year. I can geek out with him about the minutiae, and debate for hours the benefits of one strategy over another. We both benefit from a different point of view, and it spares other friends from listening to us blather on. Mostly.

I suppose our running styles mirror our personalities. He is the rabbit to my tortoise. He plunges ahead, prepared, but pushing the envelope. I am his slow and steady counterpart, but unlike the fable, this rabbit wins 99% of the time. He is encouraging me to push past boundaries I have set up in my mind. I can't know they are there unless I test them.

We both ran the marathon on Sunday. We didn't run side by side because we were running very different races. He went out and set the first half of the race on fire before slowing in the later miles. He finished a solid 8 minutes ahead of me, giving me something else to chase. Not that we are competing, but it somehow helps to see someone you know achieve what you are aiming for. And he quite literally propped me up when I stumbled my way to the finish.

When I am back in Washington, I quickly fall in step with my old running crew. We share encouragements and victories in a flurry of texts in between the face to face meetings. For many of the miles, running is a solitary endeavor, and I enjoy the moments to myself. But there is nothing quite like toeing the line together and sharing the victory.

We both think the matching shirts are a little dorky. We don't always dress alike. Just when we run. Or when we work together. Aw crap.

Long Beach Marathon 2011

2011-10-10T17:41:00.000-07:00

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Kristy and I stayed overnight with Sean and Marci. We had a lovely dinner with all of the night-before jitters and excitement. Like Christmas Eve, it is all part of the celebration. Unfortunately, Kristy and I had a pretty terrible night's sleep. Not that unusual for the night before, but Kristy felt like she didn't sleep at all.

Up at 4:15am and out the door by 5:00am to get to the start line in Long Beach. Arrived at 6:30am without any traffic hassles, and the ladies dropped us off near the start line before heading off to find a spot on the course. Sean and I stood in the Porta Pottie line for about 20 minutes, only to find no toilet paper. Half our business taken care of, we dashed to the start line in time for the Star Spangled Banner. We split into our separate corrals and wished each other luck.

It was a beautiful morning. I had run the course last year, but was still surprised at how scenic the course was. I wanted to stop to take photos of the water, the Queen Mary, the fire boat shooting a fountain of water, but we were here to run. As I said at the Carlsbad Marathon, there is nothing quite like palm trees at sunrise.

I loosely followed the 3:45 pacer through the winding streets. He was going a little faster than target pace, but it was not uncomfortable. They aim to get you to the finish line with two minutes to spare, and he had a one minute cushion in the first four miles.

At around mile 4, someone ran up next to me and said, "Hey Vegas" (I was wearing my Las Vegas Marathon shirt). It was the guy who was standing behind me in the Porta Pottie line that I had chatted with earlier. One of those crazy coincidental sightings in a crowd of 14,000 runners. Frank and I would chat off and on over the next 10 miles, and I saw him again in the crowd at the finish.

Kristy, Marci and the kids were a great support team. I saw them for the first time just before mile 7. Marci had a tambourine, the kids a cowbell, Kristy was on camera duty, and all were cheering loudly. I had just reached for my Shot Bloks, only to realize they had slipped out of my pocket somewhere. I asked Marci to grab the spare one I had in the car, and she passed it off like a baton at mile 11. They successfully navigated the closed streets to see us at three different points and still made it to the finish line before we did. I know it is hard supporting on race day, even without the 4:30am wake up call, and it makes all the difference. My running buddy Frank was a little jealous.

The course winds on or near the beach until mile 10 before heading inland. The half marathoners split off at mile 11, and the crowd thins significantly. We crossed the halfway mark a minute ahead of schedule for a 3:45 finish. The rolling hills start at around mile 14. They aren't on the map, but they are there. Much of the next ten miles is an out and back course, so you see runners headed toward the finish on the other side of the road.

At mile 17, the course heads onto the campus of California State University at Long Beach. The toughest hill of the course is on the campus, but so is the loudest crowd support. After climbing the first part of the hill, the road turns left and levels out for a stretch before turning back uphill. Even before you round the corner, you can hear the cheers. The students line the street on both sides, funneling the runners through a chute no more than ten feet wide. It is a wall of sound and energy that you can feel, and in a spot where you need it the most.

After leaving the campus, you head back on the road you came in on. The same unmentioned rolling hills are there, but somehow feel bigger on the way back out. This really broke me mentally last year, but knowing they were coming helped tremendously. For a period.

My stomach had started cramping back at mile 14, and my legs shortly thereafter. It became difficult to continue drinking, and I couldn't force myself to eat anything after mile 19. The cramping led to nausea, and the lack of food led to an energy crash. I began to lose the 3:45 pacer, but kept him in sight for a few miles. He was my rabbit to chase, but I would lose ground at each water station when I slowed to drink in what little fluids I could. I lost him completely around mile 24, and then it got ugly.

My legs were as tight as piano strings ready to snap, and it felt like the front of my stomach desperately wanted to push its way out the back. Last year I started slowing earlier, but this year I pressed harder. At mile 24 I was right on pace to finish at 3:45, but I could hold it no longer. I slowed and then walked for the first time at mile 25. A spectator focused in on me and told me to hang on, that I was almost there. I knew he meant well, but I was delirious, smoked, over the line.

When I walked by him he said, "Sean, I am giving you ten seconds to walk, and then you are going to run." I thought, "Ya buddy, not likely." Six or seven seconds later he yelled, "Sean, Run!" And somehow I did.

Well, shuffled probably. It was a death march, but I pressed as hard as I could. According to the web gizmo, 17 people passed me over the last two miles, but I passed 19. I walked once or twice over the next couple of miles, and mustered what I could for the finish. I saw the clock at the finish and tried to give it that extra .5%. It wasn't much, but it was all I had.

Last year was the worst I felt physically after a marathon finish. This year was even worse. I had felt like throwing up for miles, and wanted nothing more than to relieve the pressure. But my body would not unclench and I stumbled around weak and light headed. I later heard there was a medical tent nearby, but I walked by without seeing it. I grabbed a bottle of water and wandered into the finish area.

Sean found me just as I entered the public area, and I nearly fell against him. We made our way to the food area, and I bought a Coke. It had saved my bacon last year, a shot of sugar to a depleted system. I took a few sips but still felt on the edge of losing it. I wandered behind the food service van so I didn't throw up in the public area. I knelt on the ground, hand on the bumper, head down waiting for the wave to pass.

The gal who sold me the Coke saw me and brought over a glass of ice. The ice helped, but I stayed by the bumper for a while longer until I thought it was safe. I made it back to Sean after a few minutes, and the Coke lady took further pity on me and brought an ice cold cloth to put on my neck.

Marci and Kristy found us a few minutes later, and apparently I was still white as a sheet. I haven't seen pictures yet, but maybe I don't want to. They brought a cooler of drinks and food, and I tried to eat something with my second Coke. When I put a pretzel in my mouth, it felt like it sucked all the moisture out of my mouth. I just had to wait it out.

Which we did for a while, swapping stories of our days. The kids had some ice cream while the world stopped spinning in the wrong direction. I started to feel better, and walked around to get the blood flowing to my face again. Sean and I eventually made it to the beer garden for our free beer. The cold, carby liquid seemed to help.

I crossed the finish line in 3:47:44, a new personal best by about four and a half minutes. It was the hardest finish so far, but I feel proud of the way I pressed on through miles 14 to 24 when my body was rebelling. I had run focused, but still took the time to look around at the beautiful scenery and chat with other runners.

Kristy asked me on the drive home, "If you knew you would feel that bad at the finish, would you run the marathon again." A very good question.

I have lots of things to figure out over the next few days and months - what went wrong, what I can do to make sure it doesn't happen again. But the best answer I could give was that I had proven this time that I can push past those nagging voices that tell you to slow down or quit. I have proven that I can take it as far as my body will allow, and maybe a little farther. I don't need to prove anything, and next time I won't push it past that line again. Unless I was seconds away from a Boston Qualifier time, but that is still pretty far down the road at this point.

It was a beautiful day on a scenic course. I felt focused and in the moment. I ran strong but not with tunnel vision. I was blessed with angelic support by people I know and complete strangers. I had some of my strongest and weakest moments in the space of a few hours, and walked away with a new personal best.

Would I do it again? Yes. I plan to rewrite the ending, though.

Quote of the day - marathon morning edition

2011-10-09T04:30:00.000-07:00

Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do.

The body will always give up. It is always tired morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired. When you were younger the mind could make you dance all night, and the body was never tired...You've always got to make the mind take over and keep going.

~ General George Patton

Marathon eve

2011-10-08T10:33:00.000-07:00

I will be running my tenth marathon tomorrow, and this is my second time running in Long Beach. Last year, I incorporated speed work and more focused training paces following the FIRST program. I found the structure to be helpful, and the speed work did improve my pace.

But I showed up at the start line worn out and possibly sick. I had intended to double down this time around to see what I was capable of, but ended up taking it easier instead. It was frustrating to prepare so hard last year, only to show up ill(prepared). After a couple of weeks of training, I decided to run more by feel like I used to. I still paid attention to my time, but did not rigidly follow the pacing set out in the program.

The weekend long runs were the same, but I reduced some of the mid-week mileage. I just checked my training calendar from last year, and it looks like I ran about 15% fewer miles this time around. Same number of runs, just fewer miles.

One of the additional things that seemed to fail me last year was my fueling. I crashed hard at the finish line, desperately low on energy. The past few weeks, I have switched what I eat during runs. I am swapping in Shot Bloks for gels, and the more solid food seems to sit a little better on my stomach. Against the oft quoted "never try anything new on marathon morning" advice, I am going to try something I picked up at the expo yesterday for breakfast. The PR* Bar is supposed to level your blood sugar and let you tap in more easily to body fat as a fuel source. Marci tried it earlier this year, and thought it helped. And PR stands for "Personal Record", though I don't like the unexplained asterisk that follows.

This marathon will be a test of a few theories. Of course there are so many factors that affect your performance on a particular day, so there won't be any clear answers. But I am running pretty well, and a little faster over all. I am also five pounds lighter than I was at the start line last year, so there is less to drag for 26.2 miles. I am hoping that by running by feel and listening more closely to my body, I will get to the start line feeling more rested.

If you are up early tomorrow and want to follow along, you should be able to track me here. It should plot my progress on a map, and show my average pace. My best pace at a marathon was 8:52 per mile back in January. I am hoping to beat it, and ideally come in at around an 8:35 pace.

The gun goes off at 7:05am. We will see what the day brings. I plan to enjoy it no matter what.

Life is a Marathon

2011-10-05T10:08:00.000-07:00

The magic of marathon day, support when you need it the most.

Everyone should experience a cheering crowd.

Good morning Merry Sunshine

2011-10-03T07:04:00.000-07:00

Morning people. Who can understand them. Bouncing around before the sunrises, chipper to a point of needing to be punched. I certainly can't.

Friends and longtime readers know that I am not a morning person. I have great difficulty falling asleep before 11:00 or midnight, and my deepest sleep is the hour or two before the alarm goes off. As a teen, my alarm clock was something of an air raid siren, but most mornings I did not hear it going off inches from my head. My mother would hear it from the other end of the house, and after it was ignored for too long, come to my room to wake me.

I am not as bad these days. My alarm is really just a radio at low volume. Most mornings, the pooch wakes me with the click, click, click of her nails before it goes off anyway. But I am still coming out of my deepest sleep, and it is painful to rise.

The jobs I have had for much of my life have not required me to be up very early. There were exceptions, like the year I had the morning shift at McDonald's. When I worked as a deck builder, I was up pretty early to get to the jobsite by 8:00am. But I would stay in bed as late as possible, leaving the house ten or fifteen minutes after waking up. Even after six or seven years, the morning routine did not stick. I would stay up late most nights and sleep in on weekends to try and catch up.

I could probably sleep in until 8:30 or 9:00 these days and still make it in to work on time, but the pooch generally wakes me up at 7:00. It still feel like crap every morning, but after a year and a half she has forced the routine. I have time to have breakfast and read the paper, and I have come to appreciate the chance to wake slowly instead of greeting the world at a dead run. On the rare occasion that I am up before dawn, usually race morning, I love the quiet hush of twilight, voices at a whisper so as to not chase it away.

When I was a child, my Mom used to wake me with a whisper of "Good Morning Merry Sunshine". These days it would be said ironically to my half-asleep, grumpy face. I am not morning person, but I am going to act like one for the month of October. The alarm will go off at 5:30am during the week, and I will still be up by 7:00am on the weekends. I plan to use the quiet hours primarily to write, but I have a few other projects that need focused attention. NaNoWriMo looms in just 28 days, and I hope to have ingrained the habit of early morning writing by then.

It will be difficult to hear the alarm go off so early, but the real challenge will be in getting to bed at a reasonable hour. The mind and body do not shut down easily, even when exhausted.

The first people I told about the challenge were Kristy, Holly and Matt. The women are night owls like me, and can't understand why I will be getting up this early. It just seems crazy, stupid almost. Matt however clapped his hands in solidarity as he is up at 5:30am most mornings. He is one of those freaky morning people I am trying to understand.

He did however make the rule of no talking before 6:00am. Even early risers need a moment before facing the world. And we need to whisper to avoid chasing away stillness.

Focus in chunks of 30

2011-10-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

The theme of the year might become, "It isn't as hard as you think."

Resolution nine is done! The plan was to spend less than 30 minutes online for the month of September. Every morning I would fire up Outlook and Chrome, and set a 15 minute timer. I couldn't literally hear the ticking of the clock, but seconds were clicking off in the back of my brain.

Much of the email I get these days are newsletters filled with links. With the timer rolling, I would have to evaluate whether the article or story sounded interesting enough to click. On the few I clicked, a browser window would open, but I wouldn't read the story until I was done with all the email.

When I moved on from Outlook, I would check the blogs to see if there were any new posts. I read those first before moving onto the article I had opened before. I would usually have enough time to get through it all, but if not, I left the article open in case I had some extra time later in the evening. Facebook was last in line.

As the month wore on, I found it easier to come in under 15 minutes. I have a few email accounts, and one is where all the memberships, newsletters and spam end up. After a few days, I would look through the inbox and delete several emails before opening anything. With the time limit, it forced me to focus on what was important these days, and I didn't even want to waste the few seconds it took to open and skim over.

As always, I want these 30 day goals to create longer lasting changes. I plan to keep that timer clicking in the back of my mind, and keep the bar high on what is worth my time. In order to reduce the clutter and noise, this morning I am unsubscribing from the newsletters that regularly did not make the cut during September. I have also cleaned up my Facebook feed to get rid of the clutter that is getting in the way of updates from actual friends.

The internet isn't evil. It opens all of us to the world like no other tool has before. But it can easily become a distraction. Many of us flip on the tv without knowing if anything is on, simply out of habit. For me, the same goes for opening up the laptop. I know I will find something to hold my interest, but if I stopped and thought about it, isn't there something I would rather be doing?

Over the last 30 days, I only fired up the laptop if I had something specific to do. I had more time to spend reading, writing and running. There are fewer books in the stack by my bedside, I ran 106 miles, and I am nearly done with the corrections, editing and rewrite of my novel.

By cutting back tv and internet time, I have found time I already had. But I am always looking for more, and that is what October's challenge is all about.

Running in circles

2011-09-27T14:45:00.000-07:00

It is taper time. The two or three weeks before a marathon when you dial back the number of miles you run to rest up for the main event. It is also the period when you have much more time to obsess and talk about running. So here we are.

I ran my second 20 miler a little over a week ago. Not that I need to tell you this, but 20 miles is a long way. At times I have entertained the thought of just running out my door, running for 20 miles, and seeing where I'd end up. When I saw how far I was from home, it would probably feel even farther. Seeing it in this perspective, it would be tough to imagine going another 6.2 miles on any day. And course I would need to get a ride home.

More practically, I end up running a series of loops. This not only allows me to finish where I started, but I can also stop by my car and refill my water bottles. Of course every time I pass by the car, there is the temptation to stop and call it a day. The multiple loop plan does give me ample chance to practice not quitting.

But running the same circles over and over can get a little boring, even in beautiful San Diego. After so many repetitions, you tend to zone out and the details fade.

The last few weeks I have been running the loops in the opposite direction, and it is amazing all the new things I have seen. Even running on the other side of the street seems to make a difference, but running counter when you normally run clockwise, you get to see things from another perspective. Even though I am looking at the same scenery, everything looks a little different from the opposite point of view.

There is a metaphor in there somewhere. Maybe members of Congress should go for a run together.

Banned Book Week, 2011

2011-09-26T19:52:00.000-07:00

Banned Books Week (BBW) is an annual event celebrating the freedom to read and the importance of the First Amendment. Held during the last week of September, Banned Books Week highlights the benefits of free and open access to information while drawing attention to the harms of censorship by spotlighting actual or attempted bannings of books across the United States.

~ From the American Library Association site.

It is Banned Book Week again. Recent additions to the list include Harry Potter, Twilight and Hunger Games, but I think a better way to celebrate is to read books that are also on Radcliffe's list of the top 100 novels of the 20th century. May I recommend:

1. The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck
4. To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
8. The Lord of the Flies, by William Golding
9. 1984, by George Orwell
12. Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
15. Catch-22, by Joseph Heller
17. Animal Farm, by George Orwell
40. The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien

But not
2. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger

One more place to find a good read

2011-09-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

Kindle ebooks are now available to be checked out at 11,000 libraries across the U.S. Though there are definitely some differences between checking out paper books, the process is pretty similar.

Since it is just data bits that are being sent out, it would seem there would be an endless supply of available ebooks. But of course authors and publishers still need to make a living. Just as a library purchases a certain number of hardbacks and paperbacks from publishers to loan out, with ebooks they purchase a certain number of licences.

The first Kindle book I tried to check out from the library was Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. The library has 33 "copies", and I am 103rd on the waiting list at this point. In this respect, it is just like paper books - there is a long waiting list on newer, popular books. I checked out a less popular Dean Koontz book in the meantime to test things out, and I was reading within a couple of minutes.

One advantage, as mentioned in the article on Mashable, is the ability to make notes:

The ebook rentals also gives readers the chance to do something libraries normally frown upon: marking up books...normally, making margin notes in library books is a big no-no. But we’re fixing this by extending our Whispersync technology to library books, so your notes, highlights and bookmarks are always backed up and available the next time you check out the book or if you decide to buy the book.

There are other advantages as well. Obviously there is no need to physically store the books. Even the book data comes straight from Amazon, so the library doesn't need more server space. Physical books are also moved between libraries to allow people to pick them up close by, so as ebook use increases, they can save a little gas. And I will save some as well since I don't need to pick up or return my books. The Kindle book is sent directly to me, and expires in 21 days, or whatever the normal checkout period is.

And as this CNN article points out, this is one more place where late fees are being eliminated. Just as Netflix has created a system that prevented late fees for DVDs, libraries don't need to worry about collecting late fees on ebooks, since there are no late returns. No books go missing, and the wait list doesn't get stalled by people who don't return books on time. They just disappear from the Kindle when the loan period is up, and are ready to go out to the next patron immediately.

I love walking through bookstores, and wish I could afford to buy all the books I wanted to read, but libraries are where I look these days. As much as I like my Kindle, I still prefer reading a paper book. I love looking at bookshelves and seeing what books people are reading on the bus, and that really isn't possible with ebooks. And there is something physical in the connection with a paper book that can't be captured on a screen.

But the Kindle experience is getting better and better.

Connections, virtual and real in the running community

2011-09-22T12:05:00.000-07:00

This was originally a guest post on the World Wide Festival of Races site.

---

It is now less than three weeks until The Worldwide Festival of Races (WWFOR). I will be running for the third time this year, taking on the marathon event in its inaugural running. The WWFOR is a virtual running event in its 6th year, bringing runners from around the world to run “together”. It reminds us of our connection to each other and our love of the sport.

I ran my first WWFOR half marathon back in 2008, shortly after finding the Pheddipidations podcast. I ran it again in October of 2009 at a time when I needed everything it supports. I was going through my divorce, selling the house I could no longer afford, and I had pretty much stopped running. I needed inspiration. I needed connection. I needed a swift kick in the butt.

When I ran the Worldwide Half Marathon, I ran by myself, but not alone. I not only ran with the 1160 worldwide participants that had signed up for the WWFOR, but also with my friend Sean who was running the Long Beach Marathon two states away. We ran along the same ocean, and shared messages of encouragement and photos of victory. The event not only kick-started my return to running, but it also helped me to find the strength to keep moving forward when I wanted to be standing still.

I was out on a 12 mile run a couple of weeks later, and was listening to the latest Pheddipidations podcast. I had written an e-mail to Steve Runner the night before the race, thanking him for his podcast, this event, and what it meant to me this time around. As I ran along the path, I was surprised to hear him read my letter on the podcast. It was pretty weird to hear my words, spoken by someone else, come through the headphones. My words about why I was running, while I was running. Virtual and real were intersecting.

As the miles ramped up for marathon training this year, and running low on podcasts to listen to, I have gone back to some of the episodes produced before I became a regular listener. On my 20 miler this weekend, I listened to episode #69, Steve's experience at the 2006 Marine Corps Marathon. It turns out we were running together earlier than I thought.

The 2006 MCM was my first marathon finish. It is possible that Steve and I ran next to each other at some point as he narrated his path around our nation’s capitol, inspiring more to follow in his footsteps. It was incredible to listen to the race again as I pushed through my 20 miler five years later. The joy of crossing that finish line for the first time was made real once again.

When I run the WWFOR again this year, I will be running it at the Long Beach Marathon on October 9th. I will again be running virtually with runners from around the world, and I will also be running alongside my friend Sean, in the place he ran “with” me two years ago.

Connections are made, relationships are formed, virtual becomes real. We all run together.

Enjoy the taper, and have a great run.

Honoring two Seattle legends

2011-09-18T16:49:00.000-07:00

Saturday was the final public appearance for J.P. Patches.

The J.P. Patches Show ran from 1958 to 1981 in the Seattle market. Although it was a kids show, the humor was aimed at their parents as well, with jokes flying over the young heads with lots of double entendre thrown in. The show was live and largely unrehearsed. I don't know that this sort of local programming exists for kids anymore, replaced by SpongeBob and the like. But anyone growing up during those two decades has a soft spot in their heart for J.P. and his cast of characters.

There is a statue of J.P. and Gertrude in Fremont. The statue is called "Late for the Interurban" and is just a couple hundred feet east of the original "Waiting for the Interurban" sculpture. My brother Kevin bought a commemorative paver to support the making of the statue, engraved with the names of the three "Patches Pals" in our family.

J.P. continued to make appearances at fairs and events long after his show went off the air, and kids who are now parents would attend and put on clown noses while they watched J.P. entertain the next generation. But Chris Wedes, the man behind the clown makeup, is now 83, and has been battling cancer for the last four years. As much as he wants to continue, he just doesn't have the strength to do the thing he loves anymore.

So thank you J.P. And thank you Chris Wedes.

The other legend that was honored this weekend was Dave Neihaus. Dave was the play by play announcer for the Seattle Mariners for 34 years, until his death from a heart attack last November. He was there from the very start, and called a beautiful game, even when the Mariners were terrible (which has been for much of their existence). Like all great announcers, he had a way of describing a game on the radio that drew a picture. More than once I turned down the sound on the tv and listened to him call the game I was watching.

The bronze statue is on the 100 level of the stadium, somewhere near right-center field. It depicts him calling a game, headphones on with a scorecard filled out in front of him. As a nice touch, the scorecard is from the 1995 playoff game where the Mariners beat the Yankees to win the series. A game won by "The Double" by Edgar Martinez, and called by Dave with excitement I can still hear.

Behind the statue, several of his favorite phrases are also immortalized. Every time a Mariner hit a home run, it was "Swung on and belted!" If the bases were loaded at the time, it was "Get out the rye bread and mustard, Grandma, it's grand salami time!"

Dave Neihaus was the Mariner's biggest fan. He was an institution. Dave Neihaus was the Mariners. Listening to the game just isn't the same without him.

My Oh My.

Little surfer girl

2011-09-12T15:47:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I was a spectator at an amazing event. Matt and Holly will be writing all about it soon, but I thought I would offer my outsider experience.

Annabelle had her first surfing lesson! For those of you who don't know Annabelle, she is the three year old little miracle child I live with, the daughter of great friends. She she is the niece to my 'Unca Day'. She was born with Spina Bifida, and on land she zips along in a wheelchair with flashing wheels and a glow in the dark frame. She loves the water and with the help of a great organization, she got to take out a surfboard for the first time.

A group called Life Rolls On puts on these surfing events nine times a year, with three in California. They take people who are normally restricted to wheelchairs and take them out to tackle the surf. From their website:

Life Rolls On, a subsidiary of the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation, is dedicated to improving the quality of life for young people affected by spinal cord injury and utilizes action sports as a platform to inspire infinite possibilities despite paralysis.

Life Rolls On was founded by Jesse Billauer. Also from their website:

On March 25, 1996, Jesse Billauer was surfing at his local break at Zuma Beach in California as he was pushed headfirst into the shallow sandbar, fracturing his neck and severing his spinal cord, leaving him a quadriplegic. Jesse left the hospital, and immediately knew two things: he had to surf again and he had to help others be inspired to follow their passions.

After my morning run, I scooted up to La Jolla to see Annabelle surf. I was running a little late, and arrived on the beach at her 11:30 scheduled start time. Annie was enjoying a nap at that point, so they bumped her to 1:30. It allowed me a couple of hours to learn more about Life Rolls On and see them in action.

There were four teams of volunteers taking out surfers for a half hour of fun. I first watched from a distance, the ocean filled with color-coded teams watching and supporting their surfer. Then I watched one team and one individual. This lady right here.

The volunteers wheeled her out into the surf, lifted her on the surfboard, and ferried her out into the breakers. Her team spread into a rough chute between the surf and the shore, while one volunteer lay behind her on the board. They would bob along until they saw a good wave coming, and then they would push and kick the board forward and ride it on in. The team ran and swam alongside, ready to catch her if she fell. There were laughs, smiles and cheers, but every volunteer was on task and ready to jump in.

I can't begin to imagine what it was like for her surfing that day. I can only attempt to equate it to what I know from my own life. Standing knee deep in the surf, watching all these amazing athletes, it felt like I was standing at the finish line of a marathon.

Just like at every start line, there are amazing individual stories to tell. What people have struggled through just to get there. Lives, deaths, sicknesses, sacrifices and everyday speed bumps. As special as it is to look in everyone's eyes as they contemplate what is ahead, and what they put behind, it only informs the triumph you see at the finish line. It is palpable.

And the surfer's course was lined with volunteers just like a race course. These special people dancing in the waves were even more powerful, not only providing mental energy and encouragement, but literal life support. I got choked up watching this woman conquer the waves and everything else, just like I do at the finish lines of marathons. And I can't describe it much better than my favorite race course sign - "I am totally proud of you, random stranger!"

And then I saw Annabelle take her turn. She is probably still a little young to understand all that was going on, but her parents are not. Matt took the rudder of the surfboard for her last run into the beach and Holly captured some great photos. They saw old friends and met new amazing people. People who understand.

I will let them describe what it was like for Annie on her first day of surfing, but as an 'Unca' standing on the beach, it was pretty incredible watching the three of them break through another barrier.

Matt's post is now up, with lots of great photos.

Lyrics of the day

2011-09-10T15:12:00.000-07:00

I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off
I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
The Christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top
I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds
For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky

I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro's hood

I wish I was an alien at home behind the sun
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on
I wish I was the pedal brake that you depended on
I wish I was the verb 'to trust' and never let you down

I wish I was a radio song, the one that you turned up
I wish...
I wish...

~ "Wishlist" by Pearl Jam

Lights out

2011-09-09T11:49:00.000-07:00

As you may have heard, San Diego county went dark yesterday. 1.4 million households and business went dark at 3:40 in the afternoon, affecting some 5 million people.

Sean and I were at work in the Rancho Bernardo area. We were installing a much needed shade structure in 100 degree heat. We had just finished making a cut with the miter saw when the homeowner came out and asked if we had lost power. The whole house was out, so it wasn't a tripped breaker. When the homeowner went to ask if his neighbor had power, we realized the radio was out (which is odd since it is battery powered). Then we realized it wasn't the radio, but the radio station that was down. Uh oh.

There had been a small fire on a nearby hillside earlier in the day, but it looked out so it was probably unrelated. Sean had just been talking about recent solar flares a minute before the power went out, so maybe that was what knocked transformers out. Then three military jets flew overhead. I didn't imagine terrorist attack, but with the 10th anniversary of 9/11 just around the corner, it was lurking in the back of my mind.

We eventually found an operating radio station and realized how widespread the outage was. It went north to Orange County, south into Mexico, and east into Arizona, and it sounds like everyone went dark at once. The airport shut down, trolleys stopped working, offices and schools emptied. Traffic signals went dark and gridlock ensued.

We had made our final cut with the miter saw seconds before the power went out, and the rest of the tools we needed operated on battery power, so we kept working. Stories on the radio about people trapped in elevators kept any concerns about dark homes and melting food in perspective. Phone lines were jammed, but a couple of texts were able to get through. We knew that Kristy and Marci were OK, so stayed to finish the job, and hoped that traffic would die down by the time we hit the road.

We left around 6:00, and my phone stopped working. My car had started to overheat on the way in to work, so I had stopped off for antifreeze. I topped it off again, and hoped that I wouldn't get stuck in gridlock. The gas stations I passed were jammed with cars, but with no electricity, no gas was flowing. People were parked there waiting for the power to come back on. The best guess was that it would not be on until the morning or later, so they were in for a long wait. I was really, really glad that my tank was half full.

Once on the freeway, traffic was not much worse than normal. Several cars were stopped on the shoulder, most likely out of gas. I saw one person parked under an overpass, sitting in a lawn chair, reading the paper waiting for some sort of help to arrive.

I made it home without incident. The sun hadn't set, so there was light to find candles, headlamps and flashlights for later. Matt had stopped at Albertsons to pick up food for the evening so we could leave the fridge closed to keep in the cold. Then he barricaded the door to make sure we didn't open it out of habit. We were set to hunker down for the night, but my phone still wasn't working, so I did feel a little cut off. Holly's phone was able to get a brief signal, so I was able to check in with Kristy. I was sure she was fine, but it was still nice to hear her voice.

The stove and water heater are gas powered, so we could cook and take showers. It was over 90 degrees in the house, so we ate and chatted on the deck until it was time to turn in. No tv, no distractions, flickering candlelight - not much to complain about. The only bummer was not having a fan going in the bedroom. It was another hot and sticky night, and Sierra had tough time of it.

Power and cell service came back on during the night, so most everything is back to normal this morning. There are logjams at the airport that will take a long time to work out, and I am wondering whether food at the store was properly chilled or thrown out. But schools are closed and kids have the day off. A San Diego "snow day" after 100 degree heat.

After of course September is "National Preparedness Month". Kristy had mentioned this earlier, but of course I didn't do anything to get 'ready'. Time to go over the checklist.

Quote of the day

2011-09-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.

~ Muhammad Ali

A long hot weekend

2011-09-06T23:13:00.000-07:00

I started off the long weekend with a long run.

The marathon is just over a month away, and my run on Saturday was 20 miles long. In some ways, a 20 miler on a random weekend takes more motivation than 26.2 on marathon morning. No cheering crowds, no helpful volunteers handing out water and fuel, no two week taper to build up your strength. That said, those last six miles of the marathon are like no other miles.

The run went reasonably well. I ended up running at a pace that was only a second slower than my last marathon PR. This is too fast for a long training run. This has been my mistake in the past, running too hard in the weeks leading up to the race, and showing up at the start line tired. Training has been less rigid and more by feel this time around, but I need to pay better attention and take it easy when I run another 20 two weeks from now.

Sunday started in a much more relaxing way. Kristy and I took the pooches out for a walk around Mission Bay Park, coffee in hand chasing away the cobwebs from the night before. The beaches would eventually fill with Labor Day families, but early in the morning the park was a more subdued mix of dog-wallkers and runners.

Where Sunday was relatively lazy, Monday was busy. Well, busy relaxing. Two parties, lots of friends, but with the uninvited guest of rain. The first day of rain in months, and it lands on a holiday where everyone is trying to soak up the last day of summer vacation. Shouldn't have washed the car Monday morning.

Though there were no tans to be had, we still had a great time. Bike rides, bocce ball on the beach, great food, kitchen conversations, beautiful sunsets, wonderful friends.

It was raining again this morning, and then the swampy heat rolled in. Temperatures cracked 100 degrees and the humidity made it feel even more oppressive. The pooch had a cold bath, pillow cases are in the freezer, but there may not be much sleep tonight.

Time's up

2011-09-03T15:17:00.001-07:00

The year is two-thirds over. Incredible. I can't believe it is already September. The time has flown by, but this year I can mark it off in 30 day increments. There are eight resolutions in the can, and I am three days into resolution number nine. I am planning to live less online for the month of September. It seems a little silly to make this decloration on an online blog, but there you go.

I am not raging against technology, and have no desire to go back to 'the good old days'. And although my memory is deteriorating, I am not shunning the Internet because of how the Google effect is rewiring my brain. I am just wasting time that should be better spent.

I find myself surfing the web far too much these days. After reading email and blogs, I follow link after link to articles, stories and videos, or spend time dithering on Facebook. Some of the stuff I read is valuable, but it is such a time suck! One link leads to another, and then another, and then hours disappear with little to show for it.

I even have the computer on as I watch tv, attempting to remain 'productive' as I relax. Our brains do not multi-task well, so I shouldn't be dividing my time between two screens. I am giving a fraction of my attention to the things I try to juggle, so nothing is done well.

Giving it up entirely is not terribly realistic. Too much of the world has moved online. And again the Internet is not the problem, just how I am using it. September's resolution will be to be online for only 30 minutes a day, probably split into two 15 minute chunks. I will prioritize emails from people I know, and the newsletters filled with links will likely be ignored. Blogs will also be a priority, as they are a connection to people and some fine writing, but Facebook will be ignored unless there are a few minutes left before the timer goes off. Unless it is for legitimate research, no getting online outside of the 30 minutes.

I have already unsubscribed to many of the emails and newsletters that fill up my inbox, and I will clean up the Facebook feed to get rid of the clutter that isn't keeping me in contact with my actual friends. As with all of these 30 day resolutions, I want to keep the benefits I discover as a part of my life after the month is over. October 1st, I want to have eliminated distractions and time wasters.

When I gave up tv for a month, I found a bunch of time already at my disposal. By limiting my time online, I hope to find even more time to spend doing the important things. I want to be able to say at the end of each day that I made time for the people I love, the writing I enjoy, and the reading that expands my horizons. To stop staring at so many screens, and pay attention to all the wonder of the world around me.

Few animals were harmed in the production of this post

2011-09-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

Last month I gave up meat six days out of seven. I did not think it would be overly difficult, but I've never tried before so you never know.

But it turned out to be pretty easy. Breakfasts were no big deal, lunch was PB & J, and dinners were veggies in a rotating variety of sauces. Lots of pasta and rice, and beans and peanut butter for protein.

The only times I really bumped up against anything were the few times I was grabbing lunch on the run. Burgers and sandwiches were basically out, but I found that the veggie burrito at Chipotle was very tasty, and the veggie patty at Subway was also quite good.

I reserved Saturdays as my day with meat to make sure I had enough protein to rebuild the muscles I was tearing down on my long runs. On other days of the week, I didn't notice any real difference in energy or strength levels. As an added bonus, I lost a couple more pounds and shaved off another fat percentage point.

I am not going vegetarian, but going forward there will be less meat on the menu. It is cheaper and better for all the reasons I mentioned at the start of the month. Meatless Mondays (or Tuesdays) will be a snap.

On to September's challenge.

Writer's license

2011-08-31T21:44:00.000-07:00

click to enlarge

Four years down the road

2011-08-29T21:03:00.000-07:00

A small milestone went quietly by a few weeks ago. The other Sean commented at work the other day that it had been over four years since we started blogging. Three of us started writing at about the same time, and I think it has been a great exercise and outlet for all of us.

I looked up my first post and found it was written on August 4th of 2007. In that first post I mentioned a couple of missions for the blog. More than anything, I wanted to get back into the habit of writing again. I had kept journals sporadically since I was in my 20's, and I had found clarity and comfort in writing.

When I started the blog, I had just returned from a week-long bike ride around Montana, Canada, and Glacier National Park. As I wrote back in 2007,

I find that my head is clearer when I am away from home and on my bike. At times it seems even my vision is clearer. I’ve had no significant epiphanies while riding, but they often seem like they are just over the next hill.

And this is where the name of the blog came from. I wanted to bring the peace that I found while riding back home with me. To find clarity, inspiration and beauty in my daily life, not just when I am away and unburdened.

Much has changed in the past four years. The end of my marriage made me question myself more than ever. There were more navel-gazing posts as I sought to find the answers I would never be given. I have tried to become a better version of myself, and the pursuit of clarity continues.

With the move to San Diego, the blog has also become a place where my friends and family in Washington can check in and see what is going on in my life. I have never been good at calling or sending the random email to stay in touch, so this is where I tell my story. But I haven't been very good at that lately either, and I would like to get back to mixing in pieces of my daily life. I would like to get back to paying attention to the extraordinary in the mundane.

Motivation and creativity peaks and troughs. Sometimes the writing is forced, and the quality ebbs and flows as well (sorry 'bout that). But the habit of this blog, and the thought that there are a few people out there expecting a post, has kept me writing.

And there are moments when I feel like I am reaching that goal I set at the beginning - brief moments of clarity in my fog of thoughts. Among the rambling and brain emptying, there are some posts I am proud of. And the blog gave me the strength to quiet my inner critic long enough to get a novel down on paper.

So, thank you for continuing to stop by, for whatever reason. You have helped me to keep going. I still promise no answers, only the viewpoint from an infrequent rider.

Rush hour

2011-08-26T18:39:00.000-07:00

driving home at half speed.
a power line stretched across
the highway.
birds perched lazily
in a dot, dot, dash formation.
are they trying to tell me something?

Quote of the day

2011-08-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably.
The lesson is, never try.

~ Homer Simpson

Opinions and judgment in a grudge match

2011-08-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

I saw this decal in a car window the other day. I have joked, semi-seriously, that I am Switzerland. A neutral party that doesn't get caught up in conflict. Someone who doesn't offer opinions, remaining uninvolved. It still aspire to see every side of an issue, but of course I have my opinions and judgments. I am not a neutral country.

When I wrote the post If you don't observe them, do irritating people disappear? back in 2009, I was meeting with a marriage and personal counselor as my marriage circled the drain. My thoughts were both jumbled and running deeper than normal back then. Two years down the road, I wonder if I have retained any of the lessons I learned back then.

Recently, a friend has taken it upon herself to point out my opinions whenever I offer them, large or small. Here is a small one - I don't like the current fashion of baseball caps with perfectly flat brims. If they are worn at a 45 degree angle to the face, I think it looks even sillier. Opinions on trivial subjects, I have them.

I am not sure what prompted this exercise, but it may have been that I said I was more easy-going than most. That I don't have rigid ideas of how things should be. That if things don't go the way I expect, that I am not as easily derailed by it. More to the point, I have fewer expectations that things will go the way I expect.

But like all good friends, she has challenged my self-perception. I never thought I was, but I will say it here to be clear - I am no Zen Master rising above it all. I am not coated in Teflon. I get frustrated and irritated, and things and people piss me off just like everyone else. But back to the point of the previous post. Do these irritations grow into grudges, and do I lug them around wherever I go.

My friend reminded me the other day about something that had pissed me off a couple weeks earlier. I had forgotten all about it, but when she brought it up, the irritation came back and my voice took a quick edge. I didn't think I was carrying it around, but it clearly still bothered me.

To use the example of the cigarettes in the street from the previous post, I wasn't consciously thinking about the irritation after I left it behind, or letting stewing frustration alter my day. I wasn't using this one behavior to paint a picture of callous disregard by my neighbor and society. But it is something that I am not happy about, and if I was sharing a beer with another neighbor and he brought up the cigarette problem, I would be able to speak passionately about it.

But I do my best not to harbor grudges. I have seen friendships torn apart over what (as an outsider) seems like trivial slights or disagreements. No one believes the exact same things you do, and everyone has different beliefs in what is important in this world. There will always be conflict as long as you are alive and interacting with others. It is just something that is a part of everyone's waking life.

Another friend brings up slights that happened in high school twenty years earlier. I can't imagine carrying that sort of thing top of mind for that long. Whether it is conscious choice or a poor memory, I just don't have the mental space for it. And like I said in the previous post, you are suffering by carrying it around when the person who offended you has long forgotten it.

This is not to say that you shouldn't stand up for what you believe in, but if you let a friendship fall over a single incident, well, soon you won't have friendships to lose.

I try to follow this rule (yes I have rules): If something bothers me enough that I can't let it go and it dominates my mind more than it should, I do something about it. If it doesn't bother me enough, I do my best to chalk it up to the world not being exactly the way I want it. Of course the risk is that I am burying resentments rather than dealing with them, and that is something I will continue to watch for.

I am not Switzerland. There are issues that I am not neutral on. But I like to think I keep things in perspective, and I try not to pretend my opinions are truth. I try not to read any malice when there is none, or let a single incident bloom into permanent judgment. But of course I have memories and the baggage to go with them, and maybe ironically, I am struggling with forgiveness right now. But that is a subject for another post.

How they get to you

2011-08-21T10:00:00.000-07:00

There are widgets and programs that will tell you all sorts of information about your blog or website. How many people visit each day, how much time they spend reading, where they're from, and how on earth they got to my little cul-de-sac of the internet.

I don't obsess or even pay that much attention to the reports, but I will check them out every couple of months out of curiosity. Most of my readership are returning visitors, and not surprisingly they are concentrated in Washington and California. And no I don't know who you are, just vaguely where you are from.

But there are the random folks that pop in because they have typed in some sort of search term into Google and I show up in the results. It might be my comments on the Pearl Izumi ad campaign, my ride reports on the STP or RSVP, or simply following a link to a picture of the University of Washington logo I grabbed from someone else.

But there is a post that consistently ranks above all others in bringing new people to the blog. It is something I wrote more than two years ago, and it doesn't have any buzzwords or pictures that would pop up regularly in a web search. It turns out that all the traffic is coming from a a link on a therapy site.

I figured I would re-post it here, and in the next installment let you know how things have changed in the past two years.

---

If you don't observe them, do irritating people disappear?

One of the podcasts I have been listening to intermittently is Zen and the Art of Triathlon. I am several episodes behind, but I caught a good one this week called "Quantum Spinach". One of the pieces was using quantum theory to talk about difficult people. It went something like this...

He started with two ideas from science. First - scientists have observed that matter is actually 99.9999....% empty space. There isn't much of anything in between all the atoms, neutrons, electrons etc. Second - according to quantum physics, observation affects reality.

Then he paired the above observations with dealing with difficult people. He makes the point that difficult people are only difficult to you a small percentage of your time. He gives examples of neighbors who flick cigarette butts out on their sidewalk. The amount of time in his life that he sees the cigarette butts is .0001% of his life. The rest of the time, he isn't experiencing those difficult people.

Of course many folks let these sorts things bother them for a much larger portion of their lives. Back to the observation of matter, you are observing the problem it as if it were 100% solid, when in reality, the real matter only occupies .0001% of the space. The goal of course is to not let such a small thing ruin your day.

To reinforce his point, he relays a story of two monks encountering a beautiful lady at the edge of a stream. The lady is in a bit of distress and needs to get to the other side of the stream for some reason. So one of the monks picks her up in his arms and carries her to the other side, where he sets her down and receives a quick kiss on the cheek.

The two monks continue walking. It becomes apparent that the second monk is furious, smoke practically coming out of his ears. He can't contain himself and finally has to say something. "How can you have done that? We are supposed to stay away from women, yet you carried this woman across the stream." The first monk says, "you know, I put her down miles ago. You are still carrying her."

That is what you are doing if you let someone continue to irritate you, or you let one thought dominate your mind. You continue to carry something that should have been set down a long time ago. And of course the frustration you carry around, the difficult person probably isn't thinking twice about. Why should you be the person suffering?

Me and my shadow

2011-08-14T21:51:00.000-07:00

The above cartoon was about cats, but my pooch has developed the same bad habit. She likes to stand in doorways, or really anyplace you might be headed where you can trip over her. This is not terribly new, but it is definitely getting worse.

She has always wanted to be where her people are, but was never this clingy. In the past, if I left the room, she wouldn't follow me right away. If I was gone for more than a few minutes though, she would come find me. But since we moved to California, she is at my heels at all times. If I leave the room to go get something, she gets up, even though her legs are bad and it pains her to get up. Often I am only gone for a few seconds, and I end up bumping into her on the way back in. If I am moving around the house too much, she will just stand a doorway, knowing that I, or someone else, will be coming by soon.

I was up in Washington for a week in July. While I was gone, she became ill. She couldn't keep food down and was losing interest in eating. The lack of interest in eating is pretty significant for her as she still does a happy dance when it is mealtime, even on two bad knees. With her diabetes, it is even more important for her to have a steady intake of food. When her blood sugar gets too low, she becomes disorientated and doesn't have the strength to stand. It can be pretty scary.

There was no cell service where I was staying, and my poor roommates were left to take care of my sick pooch without being able to contact me regularly. They were great caregivers. They cleaned up all the messes, consulted with Kristy for critter advice, and when the pooch didn't improve, they took her into the vet. The diagnosis was inconclusive, but they put her on meds to essentially shut off the brain trigger that makes you throw up. She was better for a day or two, but then was back to losing her meals. It was a helpless feeling being so far away and unable to do anything.

When I returned to San Diego, I continued feeding her the milder rice and chicken broth meals that my roommates had started. She improved relatively quickly, and was back on her regular food in a couple of days. My non-medical diagnosis - she missed me and made her self sick with worry.

This is nothing about what a great dog owner I am, it is just the way things are now. Things were already pretty different down here for her, but her sight and hearing have really deteriorated over the last six months. It is easy for her to feel lost and disconnected now. When I wasn't sitting next to her in the evenings, or in the bed next to her when she woke up in the morning, I think she kind of shut down.

I was recently over at Kristy's place to house sit for five days. I have left the pooch behind in the past because I thought it was more disruptive than having her at home. There are more stairs to navigate, and animals she is not used to there. But I brought her along this time, and the change of venue didn't seem to phase her much. She was just happy to be where I was.

So I will take the standing in doorways, getting underfoot and sticking to me like a shadow if it makes her feel safe. I am just happy to still have her by side.

Comments?

2011-08-09T16:00:00.000-07:00

Nothing angers the internet like terrible spelling.

Disclosure - I am a terrible speller. If it weren't for the red squiggly line that appears below my misspellings, my posts would be tough(er) to read. But maybe they would be more widely read...

click each to enlarge

Summer all year long

2011-08-06T18:19:00.000-07:00

click to enlarge

I'm not even sure where my pants are.

Necessity is the mother of figuring sh!t out

2011-08-04T22:45:00.000-07:00

I broke off a key in a deadbolt. The piece was stuck in the lock, so I had to take it apart to get it out. In the process, I learned how locks work. I also learned how NOT to take a lock apart. Pins and springs everywhere.

Whenever I work on something, I always keep in the back of my head the medical edict of "First, do no harm." Basically, don't make things worse than they were before you started messing with it. Pay attention to how you take things apart so you can put it all back the way you found it. But now the lock lay in pieces, and since things were spring loaded, I hadn't so much taken it apart, as it came apart.

As I tracked down pieces and figured out where everything went, I began to understand how it all worked. How the pins and springs interact with all the dips and peaks in individual keys. I had installed locks before, but never had to pull a cylinder apart. Who knows if I will ever use this knowledge, but it is still cool to know how one more thing works.

Later, I jumped online and found instructions on how I should have done it. Never too late to read the instructions.

August resolution

2011-08-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

Have you heard of Meatless Mondays? It is a pledge to not eat meat one day a week for health and environmental reasons. By just making this small change, you can have a big impact.

From the Environmental Working Group Report:

Americans’ appetite for meat and dairy – billions of pounds a year from billions of animals – takes a toll on our health, the environment, climate and animal welfare. Producing all this meat and dairy requires large amounts of pesticides, chemical fertilizer, fuel, feed and water. It also generates greenhouse gases and large amounts of toxic manure and wastewater that pollute groundwater, rivers, streams and, ultimately, the ocean. In addition, eating large quantities of beef and processed meats increases your exposure to toxins and is linked to higher rates of health problems, including heart disease, cancer and obesity.

Cows, sheep, and other livestock release substantial amounts of methane, a greenhouse gas 25 times more potent than CO2
Most U.S. livestock are fattened on soybean meal, corn and other grains that require large amounts of fertilizer, fuel, pesticides and water.
An estimated 1,800 to 2,500 gallons of water go into a single pound of beef.
Adult men, on average, get twice as much protein as necessary. In 2009, the U.S. produced 208 pounds of meat per person.
Antibiotics and hormones used in livestock increase risk of resistant bacteria and certain cancers.

Grass fed, organic and pasture raised meat, eggs and dairy can reduce your exposure to harmful chemicals, and they have been shown to have higher vitamin content and lower saturated fat. Unfortunately, it does not reduce the environmental impacts in the same way. However, the type of meat you choose can make a difference. Chicken, turkey and fish have a much smaller impact than beef or lamb (or even cheese).

So this brings us to Meatless Mondays. According to the same report:

If you eat one less burger a week, it is like taking your car off the road for 320 miles.
If you and your four person family skip steak one day a week, it is like taking your car off the road for almost 3 months.
If everyone in the U.S. ate no meat or cheese just one day a week, it would be like taking 7.6 million cars off the road.

Whatever your motivation - health, environment or simply your grocery bill, giving up meat one day a week does not seem like it should be that difficult. I think that this is something I can do indefinitely. But for the August challenge, I will flip it around and instead of giving up meat one day a week, I will only have it one day a week. I will probably choose Saturdays as this is the day I typically do my long runs, and when there will be the most muscle damage in need of protein repair.

I think this will not only give me a good jump start toward a lifelong commitment, but will help me to continue the weight loss challenge. It should also broaden my culinary horizons and increase the variety of foods that I put in my body.

Resolutions and the scale

2011-08-02T10:00:00.000-07:00

For the ongoing resolution a month thing, the plan for July was to make better lifestyle choices and try to lose 10 pounds.

Well, I got it half right.

I did eat better foods, consumed fewer liquid calories, avoided drive-thrus and late night snacks. I did really well the first week, and then undid the progress when I was on vacation. I did relatively well the last couple of weeks, and ended up losing five pounds.

Ten pounds was kind of a long shot, and I was hoping that the difficult goal would scare me straight on my food intake. Turns out I don't scare that easily.

I do feel better overall though, and plan to continue to make the changes necessary to lose the next five pounds by marathon morning. And August's resolution should help in that regard.

Hey, this guy stole my bit. Sounds more inspiring and clever at TED.

Practice NOT quitting

2011-07-31T22:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the moments that challenge us the most,
define us.

~ Deena Kastor, 2004 Olympic Marathon Bronze Medalist.

I am getting back to the thick of marathon training, and the long runs on the weekend are up to 15 miles. I will eventually run a couple of 20 milers before race day, but when the training distance gets past 13 miles, it feels like things are getting serious.

This will be my 10th marathon. This running thing started six years ago, more or less with a dare. But I have carried on for some reason, and the marathon continues to beckon me. Many people have asked why I run these long distances, usually with a shake of the head indicating that they think I am a little crazy.

It is a valid question, and I don't have a pat answer. I don't LOVE running. I don't roll out of bed wishing to hit the streets. To be fair, I don't roll out of bed wanting to anything but roll back in. But I do enjoy running, in the moment, and all that it does for me. It keeps me in better shape, and it helps clear my cluttered brain like little else can.

And I enjoy the challenge it brings. Though our bodies were built to run, they are not tasked to run anymore. That is unless we chose to. And I chose to. I want to keep that inborn ability polished, even if I am not required to run down my dinner. I want to keep this body of mine fit and moving forward into old age. I want to slow down by choice, not because I have to.

And even after five years, running is still a challenge. I believe it was Greg LaMond who said about biking (though it is the same for running), "It never gets easier, you just go faster." The first mile is still difficult, and it has only become easier from habit. Each successive mile takes the same effort it used to, I am just moving faster these days.

But why marathons? I could get the mental and fitness benefits by running much shorter distances. I have enjoyed running 5ks again, and running for pure speed has been great, but there is something about the marathon that continues to draw me in.

As Dick Beardsley says in The Spirit of the Marathon "When you cross that finish line, no matter how slow, no matter how fast, it will change...your life...forever." I have seen many finish lines, and I can vouch for the transformation you feel once you cross it. Running 26.2 miles is an amazing accomplishment, and once you conquer it, you feel like you can do anything.

But why go back time and again? Once you have conquered the distance, you know you can do it, and the high will never be the same as it was the first time.Why train for months, with the increasing miles and time commitment it takes? I will say that I am starting to question it myself. But I heard a phrase recently that helps explain it.

A big part of training is preparing your body to endure the 26.2 miles, but there is a mental side to it as well. Three, four, five hours or more is a long time to be out on the road, endlessly putting one foot in front of the other. The months of miles leading up to race day conditions your brain to move back and forth between focus and distraction.

During the race, your body will tell you to quit. At times it will flat out scream at you to pull over and stop. But something in your brain knows there is something more to give. Some untapped resource hidden away in a dark corner. But you don't know for sure that it is there unless you press on to find it. And that is part of what all this training does. It gives you practice at NOT quitting when the going gets tough.

And keeping the act of not quitting polished, well that serves you again and again. And that is one of the reasons I run.

A box full of memories

2011-07-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

My grandmother was a wonderful woman.

Her name was Gladys, but I can count on one hand the number of times I heard someone call her that. She was 'Nannie', and not just to family. And she was never Grandma, always Nannie. It seemed a much more powerful endearment. Friends and coworkers called her Nannie all the time. I am sure that this was not true when she was a bit younger, but even so, when was the last time you heard a coworker called essentially 'grandma' at any age.

She passed away a couple decades ago, but her presence is still there at family gatherings. When I was up at Crescent Bar earlier this month, my Mom brought along a box of things she had discovered in a closet. It was a box of assorted things from Nannie's basement. She brought it along so all the cousins and grand kids could go through it and maybe take home a memento or two.

As we went through the box together, we reminisced and did a mental walk-through her old place. Her house was over in Seattle, not far from the University district. It was an older house, and the rooms were small and the floors a little creaky. There was a radio console with a slide out record player and a hidden little game cupboard behind the rocking chair. There was a formal dining room just inside the front door. We kids rarely sat at the main table, but often stole butter mints from the candy dish.

But the place we talked about the most was the basement. A set of very steep stairs led down to a rather dank basement. The laundry area was down there, but it felt like the walls were soaked with moisture from the ground outside as well. Though the upstairs was kept rather neat, the basement was a maze of stacked boxes and old items she just couldn't part with. The concrete floor was slightly buckled, adding to the feeling that the world outside was constantly pressing to get in.

Inside the box my Mom brought to Crescent Bar were programs from football games, high school productions, and several music pamphlets. It was interesting reading through the relatively trivial from nearly a hundred years ago, but there was also a printed pamphlet of an address by President Wilson on April 2, 1917. There was a metal hard hat from the Civil Defense organization. Apparently Nannie was a member of the neighborhood watch during the war, and wore the helmet as she went around getting lights turned out to darken the city.

There was a box of some 30 photos from when she was a high school junior or senior. None of the pictures were of her, but rather of her classmates, some with personal notes. It appeared that these formal pictures were exchanged at the end of the year in place of the high school annuals we have today.

There were also things from my grandfather as well. I never knew him, as he passed away when my Mom was only 15. In the box was a straight razor and a sharpening stone, the kind you only see in barber shops these days. There was also a set of pipes and a cigar holder. They looked barely used, though from what my Mom said he primarily used the cigarette holder, which was missing.

When I opened the carrying case, I smelled something familiar that I couldn't quite place. It wasn't tobacco, as the bowls of the pipes were clean. After some rooting around in my subconscious, I realized it was the same musty smell that was in the felt-lined case of the trumpet I played in grade school. The trumpet and case were a hand-me-down from my other grandfather, my Dad's Dad.

I let most everyone pick and chose before I took anything from the box. One of the younger cousins took the box of high school pictures, but I grabbed two from the stack before she left. I also picked up the Presidential address that no one seemed interested in. And I was glad that no one but a too-young cousin was interested in the pipes.

I don't smoke, and unfortunately never knew my maternal grandfather, but I cherish this small connection just the same. And whenever I open the box, the musty smell will remind me of my other grandfather as well. There are more meaningful things that came out of that basement, but it is interesting the significance we all found in one random box.

Another one bites the dust

2011-07-25T23:12:00.000-07:00

Borders book store has filed for bankruptcy, and the sell off has begun. It actually started on Friday and I was initially surprised at how much stuff was left today. A few months ago when they were trying to stay alive, they shut down some of their less productive stores. When I stopped by one of the earlier closures, it looked like a carcass picked nearly clean. Most of the floor space was empty, and the remaining shelves held only a few neglected books.

The store today was filled with shoppers and barely looked different from a normally stocked store. Aside from all the signs dangling from the ceiling that is.

I suppose it is early in the going-out-of-business sellathon, but the deals were not that great. Most books were 10% -20% off, which isn't much better than typical. I didn't really have any money in the budget for books, but I wanted to stop by for some reason. Maybe to note the passing of another brick and mortar store. I did pick up a magazine for 40% off though.

I hadn't been in a Borders in a while, and I suppose that is part of the problem. Many people buy online, or have moved to e-readers. Borders was late to adjust to the new market and suffered the consequences. Their initial online presence was actually built and run by Amazon.com, one of the companies that put them out of business. Barnes and Noble seems to be struggling but surviving, having jumped online early and created their own Nook e-reading device.

The big box stores chased out the small bookstores, and now they have been pushed out by online stores. I think there is still a place for a brick and mortar bookstore, but it may be back at the smaller level. For all the "If you bought this, you might be interested in this" recommendations spit out by online algorithms, there is nothing like a recommendation from a knowledgeable reader and bookseller. There was a great little store where I used to live, and I always enjoyed stopping there for a new read.

To save money, I haven't been buying many books anywhere lately. I had a small stack of unread books, but most of the books I read these days come from the library. But I hope bookstores can survive in this new climate. There really is nothing like wandering the stacks with a cup of coffee, letting a cover or glowing recommendation lead you to a new author, and a whole new world.

Quote of the day

2011-07-21T07:00:00.000-07:00

Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.

~ Albert Einstein

Carmageddon 2011. Ride a bike instead.

2011-07-20T07:00:00.000-07:00

(The) 405 closed in the LA area for a long weekend. The media and CALTRANS predicted mayhem, mass hysteria, cats and dogs living together.

As a bit of marketing genius, Jet Blue offered $4 flights from Burbank to Long Beach to get around the traffic jam. A writer and blogger with a couple of books out about traffic behavior sent out a tweet of:

Given airport travel time, security, runway delay, etc., I'd bet a good cyclist could travel BUR to LGB faster than Jet Blue. #carmageddon

Like many random things to flash across the internet, it took on a life of its own. A bicycling group in LA took up the challenge, and Jet Blue secured two seats on a otherwise full flight for two competitors. From the first Slate story, Carmageddon Challenge,

Cyclists will depart from a residence near the intersection of Cahuenga and Chandler Blvd. in North Hollywood at 10:55 AM PT (Saturday, July 16) Flight Departs 12:20pm and we're basing the cyclists' departure time on the airline's recommended passenger arrival time of 1.50 hours before departure. (we're doing a little less to be fair)Cyclists will be required to follow all traffic laws.The finish line is the light house at the Shoreline Aquatic Park in Long Beach...Ezra and I will take a cab from LGB to the finish line courtesy of GaryRidesBikes FIRST TO ARRIVE AT THE LIGHT HOUSE WINS!

From the follow up story, others decided to race against the flight. In addition to the bikes, someone used only public transportation and walking. There was also someone racing on Rollerblades. The unofficial results:

Bike: 1:34
Metro/Walk: 1:44
Rollerblades: 2:40
Plane/Lost Cabdriver: 2:54

As the author points out, "On the face of it, one shouldn't make too much of the Tour de Carmageddon. There was a certain mix of ludicrousness and PR genius in Jet Blue's move to airlift people over the 405-closure madness... it's not as if anyone saw the flight as a reasonable long-term option."

But it does point out that biking is an option for trips longer to just to the corner store. And as a great side story, it was pretty surprising the efficiency of using public transportation between the two points. LA is not known for its public transportation system.

Family time

2011-07-19T13:36:00.000-07:00

I was back up in Washington again, for over a week this time. Since my move to San Diego, I have tried to get up there about every six months, but was fortunate through airline miles and generosity to make two trips in the past month. I couldn't afford the time away from work, but felt I couldn't miss this trip.

When I was a kid, my mother's side of the family seemed to get together every month. With nine cousins to go with uncles, aunts and grandparents, there was always a birthday or other holiday to celebrate. As we got older, lives became more complicated, our generation started having kids, and the group reached some sort of critical mass where it was difficult to get us together under one roof. Our visits went from monthly to maybe twice a year.

But through the years, there was always a week in the summer that was sacred. My extended family has been gathering each summer for some 30 years to spend a week together.

It began at Sun Lakes in eastern Washington. The cabins were old and run down, but they were an air-conditioned spot near the lake. Nearly everyone learned to water ski there. Older cousins taught younger ones, who then went on to teach the next generation. They'd float next to you in the water holding your skis, a stabilizing and calming presence before the boat would jerk you out of the water with a shout of "Hit It!"

About 15 years ago, we moved our annual summer week to Crescent Bar on the Columbia River. The old cabins were exchanged for nicer condos, the small lake for a wide, slow moving (and colder) river. There are more toys and even more people. You'd need six or seven hands to count them all. Boyfriends and girlfriends have become husbands and wives, and more children are bringing new friends. The annual trip has the same heart, just in a different place. There is a little less excitement as an adult, but no less joy.

I hadn't been in three years. Last year I just couldn't make it happen, and in 2009 I just couldn't handle it. I was in the thick of the divorce and I just wasn't ready to face my family. But this year it was back to restorative waters and family, especially since it might be the last time.

The condominiums are built on land leased from the Public Utility District. The condos were built during a 50 year lease term, and owners were given every indication that the lease would be renewed when it expired in 2012. Some locals have argued that the public land should be made into a park with additional campgrounds, with the condos being knocked down to build a parking lot.

The non-renewal of the lease seems to be out of spite rather than to benefit the county. A renewed lease at market rate would likely bring in more revenue than a campground, especially considering the current one is often not full. The condos are primarily rentals, so they already bring in tourist dollars to nearby Quincy.

I also don't imagine any level of government has the money to invest to convert the island to a new use. There is already a public beach on the island, and it is not expanded in the new plan. The rest of the island will likely sit dormant for quite some time, not available for public or private use, and not producing much-needed revenue for the county.

So since this trip might be the last to Crescent Bar, I wanted to be there just in case. The weather wasn't as nice as normal, and there was a figurative cloud hanging over as well. My uncle and cousin also spent some time in the hospital, so it was a rougher week all over.

But it was still a wonderful week. I am blessed in the family and friend department. We all enjoy time with friends, but not all of us want to spend extended periods with siblings, cousins and uncles as adults. I am pretty lucky to have a group that still enjoys hanging out after all these years.

If Crescent Bar does come to an end, there is talk about starting over again somewhere else. It won't have the same feel, and we will be one more step removed from where we started. But the trip is more about time with the family than where we are sitting. Wherever we go, it will have the same heart, just in a different place.

I am alive...

2011-07-16T15:47:00.000-07:00

I have just been delightfully off the grid for a week (see picture at right). Be back soon.

Make this life your own, and be a positive force

2011-07-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

Over at the3six.posterous.com, back to back posts had nice final paragraphs along the same theme.

July 6th - Ben Hughes

...We fill our lives with work because we have to fill them with something, and work is plentiful and cheap. It expands to fill the space like caulk. But in our rush to vanquish the emptiness, we often miss the fact that the emptiness is itself the point. There is no meaning of life, at least not in the sense people usually mean. Life is a vessel to be filled with our own meaning.

Ultimately, it is our responsibility to figure out a way to be happy. That is the true work of our lives.

----

July 5th - Adam Obendorf

...Sitting at my desk with tears in my eyes at first was completely embarrassing, and for some reason I just started laughing. As intense as life can be sometime, you really can’t take it too seriously. We’re all going to die sooner or later, so high five a stranger, give your friend a bear hug, and tell your parents you love them.

Remember what matters in life. It’s not about money. It’s not about status. It boils down to one thing: how did you affect people? Positively or negatively? I hope it’s the former…

Quote of the day

2011-07-06T10:00:00.000-07:00

Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.

~ Maria Robinson

Storefronts

2011-07-05T21:57:00.000-07:00

I and thousands of other people received this email from Amazon last week.

For well over a decade, the Amazon Associates Program has worked with thousands of California residents. Unfortunately, a potential new law that may be signed by Governor Brown compels us to terminate this program for California-based participants. It specifically imposes the collection of taxes from consumers on sales by online retailers - including but not limited to those referred by California-based marketing affiliates like you - even if those retailers have no physical presence in the state.

We oppose this bill because it is unconstitutional and counterproductive. It is supported by big-box retailers, most of which are based outside California, that seek to harm the affiliate advertising programs of their competitors. Similar legislation in other states has led to job and income losses, and little, if any, new tax revenue. We deeply regret that we must take this action.

I have had an affiliate account with Amazon for a while now. I set up a store with items I mentioned on the blog. If readers bought anything that I recommended, or even just used the Amazon search bar, I received a small percentage for the referral without increasing the sale price to the purchaser.

Nothing really came from it. I didn't promote it much, and it was rarely used. I was considering a few things to encourage it, but now it is a moot point. Getting rid of the search box was a good excuse to rearrange the side bar. I will not be losing any income from this change, but the reasoning behind it still bothers me.

Amazon and other internet retailers have been fighting against collecting sales tax for years. Part of their continuing argument is the burden and complexity of collecting sales tax in 50 different states. But I am guessing that the automation of the process would be pretty simple these days. Yes it would be more complicated than it is now, but that does not seem to be a particularly valid reason.

As a construction company, we had to have a business license in every city we worked in. Didn't matter if we did one or a hundred jobs in that city, we had to pay the licensing fee. We also had to keep track of our total sales in each city as it affected the amount of tax we paid. It was just the cost of doing business in that city. Collecting sales tax should be the same.

Internet companies already (presumably) have less overhead by not having outlets everywhere, but the sales tax issue gives them an additional competitive advantage over the brick and mortar store. Even if their retail price is exactly the same, their prices are automatically 8 to 10 percent cheaper (to the consumer) by not collecting sales tax. With the explosion of internet commerce, local shops (and the jobs that go with them) are losing out and disappearing.

I suppose I can't fault Amazon and others for fighting the change. They like any other company are looking for any savings and competitive advantage. But it is time this loophole was closed, both to level the playing field and to restore revenue to cities and states. I am not sure how requiring them to behave like any other local store is "unconstitutional and counterproductive".

Specific goals and vague details

2011-07-02T13:16:00.000-07:00

From an article on Active.com titled How to Become an Athlete:

If your definition of an athlete is “someone who participates in competitive sports,” then you’ve probably made the jump from casual exerciser to athlete. But what does it really mean to be an athlete? My coaching definition goes a bit deeper.

An athlete is an individual who understands the principles of athletic training and proceeds systematically.

This distinction is important in order to understand an individual’s commitment level, which will help guide you (and your coach) in training. Sound too stuffy? Relax. According to the first definition, you’re still an athlete.

The goal is always to improve performance. And while genetics plays a big role in an individual’s physiological ceiling, lifestyle choices, commitments, economic and social limits, desire and even luck prevent many athletes from achieving their full potential.

I am a marathoner. As I mentioned here previously, I do not hold to the theory that you must be so fast, so fit, so whatever to be called a marathoner. In several articles and other self-righteous diatribes, people are complaining that the boom of marathon running is messing it up for the purists. All the people who do it to check it off a bucket list, run/walk it, or raise money for charity are not marathoners. One blogger I follow feels that it cheapens her hard effort that someone who crosses in five hours said they "ran" a marathon.

Whatever.

If I had to make any sort of fine point, I suppose if you did it once, you say "I have run a marathon". If it hooks you, and you are training for another, you are a "marathoner".

But like I said, whatever. Whatever inspires you to take good care of yourself, to explore what is possible, and to make best use of this wonderful body you have been given - more power to you.

I want to qualify for Boston. I don't know if I ever will, but the pursuit is still on. Over the nine marathons I have run, I have cut an hour and twenty-two minutes off of my finishing time (helps to not train properly for your first). I am pretty happy to have accomplished as much as I have in running and biking in the years I have been at it. And to toot my own horn, in the last eight races at various distances, I have set personal bests in seven of them.

Yet I still feel that I have reached a plateau, at least at the marathon distance. Even after training "better" for the last couple, the gains are getting pretty small. I know I can up the training more, but I think to make any sort of breakthrough (and to get close enough to even talk about Boston), something else needs to change. I need to take better care of myself overall.

So that will be July's resolution. I have already started training for the next marathon in October, and I want to take my best shot. In order to do that, I need to eat better, drink less, get more sleep, and lose some weight. "Taking better care of myself" is harder to quantify for these monthly resolutions, but there will be less food on the go, more fruits and vegetables, less liquid calories, and less food overall.

Not that weight is a clear indicator of health, but there is certainly a correlation. And if there is less of me to carry over 26 miles, it will be easier to get there quicker. So the resolution is to make some lifestyle choices to take better care of my body, but the measuring stick will be on the scale.

I am hoping to be at 160 pounds by the end of the month. I have hovered around 170 for the past couple of years. I have weight to lose, but I think it will take some noticeable changes to break through the plateau. I don't know if 10 pounds in a month is realistic, especially with a week of vacation surrounded by treats and home cooking, but I will try my best. This is more of a long-term commitment than a monthly goal, but having a tough thing to shoot for has always helped motivate me.

I don't know that I will ever call myself an "athlete", but it certainly won't be before I take things as seriously off the road as I do on. I need to stop counteracting the training I do with what I put in my body. I need to stop sabotaging myself.

So many minutes

2011-06-30T22:30:00.000-07:00

So the month is over, and so is resolution number six.

Last month's resolution was to eliminate mindless tv. The hope was to gain back a few hours each night and do something more productive. The first part of the resolution was successful. I did not watch any network tv during the month. I did watch two movies and another hour of NetFlix entertainment. There were no moments where I flipped on the tv just to have something on or something to do, so I am calling that a success.

I did not however come away a completely changed man. I did get much (much) more reading done during the month. I also connected with some friends I had let fall away over the months and years. Emails and calls to friends and family were a little more frequent, a little more lengthy. But I didn't check hundreds of items off my to-do list or spend enough time getting rid of other clutter in my life.

But overall, it was good change in behavior. One that I think will stick around for some time. I have pretty much broken the habit of saying, "I didn't have time to do..." over the past couple of years. There have been plenty of hours out there to use, and after a month with no tv, I have found even more.

I don't need to fill every waking moment productively, and I think the reading I have done will pay off somewhere down the line, but I need to make every minute worthwhile.

Six months, and six resolutions. I am halfway home, and pretty happy with the experiment so far. Tomorrow, July's resolution.

Quote of the day

2011-06-30T09:12:00.000-07:00

Tell me and I'll forget;
show me and I may remember;
involve me and I'll understand.

~ Chinese proverb

Seattle Rock n Roll Half Marathon

2011-06-27T22:47:00.000-07:00

Even though this was the third time on this course, every one of these events is different. And you never know what version of you will show up on race day.

You spend four or more months getting ready, but there is no guarantee that something won't derail you at the last minute. Something unexpected, or something you yourself caused. It has been a long time since I showed up to a start line feeling confident, and I was feeling pretty iffy again this time around.

The half marathon was one of the main reasons for the visit to Seattle, but of course there were a ton of people I wanted to see over the long weekend. Friday was filled with visits, and I ended up sacrificing sleep in order to spend more time with people. I ended up getting about 3 hours of sleep the night before the race. The bottle of wine didn't help either.

Our crew showed up very early at the start line in order to avoid the crush of runners waiting to get on the shuttle buses. Tami had arranged for some passes to the Brooks VIPee lounge. With the secret sticker, we had access to flush toilets and could avoid the porta-pottie lines. However, lots of other people had the stickers as well, and the line was still 25 minutes long right before the start. The gun went off while I was jogging to the start line, and I just caught my corral before they took off.

I decided to run with a pace group again. If I could keep up with them, I would cut 5 minutes off of my PR. A finish time of 1:45 was sort of symbolic for me as well. It equated to an 8:00 minute per mile pace, and that is what I would have had to run for a full marathon to qualify for Boston. That is before they made the standards harder for everyone by 6 minutes.

The weather was near perfect for a long run. The sky was overcast, a little cool and no rain. I reached the start line with about 45 seconds to spare. I took a couple of breaths, and then remembered that I had to fire up the electronic gizmos. I downloaded the iMapMyRun app for my phone, and it was supposed to broadcast my run live for anyone who wanted to watch. I have no idea if anyone was following along vicariously, but it added a little pressure somehow.

I started some distance behind the pacer, and I took a half mile or so to reel him in. He kept us right at an 8 minute pace and I could just follow along and check out the scenery. There is a long slow climb from mile 3 to 5, and we maintained pace. When the road tipped downhill to meet Lake Washington Blvd, gravity carried me ahead of the pacer.

I decided at that point to push a fraction harder. I figured the pacer was right behind me and would catch up at the next water stop. But when I slowed to take a drink, he did not go running by. Still feeling good and running within myself, I pressed on.

The boulevard was beautiful once again, and then at mile 7 I saw the trees, the blue signs and American flags. I probably slowed down a bit as I took it all in, but then the beautiful moments fueled me to press on another fraction harder.

After another climb at mile 9, the route heads through the sweatbox of the I-90 tunnel. After a wall of sound and heat, we emerged into the open air and into downtown. Last year this is where I picked up all my time, and I tried to pick up as many seconds as possible again this year. I felt like I was pushing just hard enough without going too far into the red.

A quick climb to the Viaduct, and then two more turns and we were in the finishing chute. I picked it up just a little more, but didn't have enough in the tank to sprint it out. It reinforced the feeling that I had paced it out perfectly, and I finished with a smile.

Final time - 1:41:46. I beat my goal by more than three minutes, and set a personal best by almost nine minutes. It was one of those rare days where everything seemed to go right, even though I had tried to sabotage myself the night before. Couldn't have asked for much of a better run.

And the mental bonus - if I could have somehow sustained that pace for another 13.1 miles, that time would get me into Boston under the new standards. A marathon is much more than twice as difficult as a half, but it still gives me a glimmer of hope that Boston is within the realm of possibility.

Everyone in our group ran faster than last year, and three people set personal bests, so there was success all around. And in the three years I have run this course, I have set a new personal best for the distance each time. The Seattle course may be my lucky charm. That and the friends and overcast skies.

Honoring those who make it possible

2011-06-26T15:14:00.000-07:00

The half marathon went well. But before we get to the race report, a powerful scene from the road.

The most memorable stretch of the route is along Lake Washington Blvd. After winding through an industrial area and some neighborhoods, the course runs along the edge of the lake for 3+ miles, and it is one of the few stretches with regular spectators. The scenery is wonderful, and nothing helps you along like a cheering, smiling face. It is the part of the course that keeps us coming back.

But this year it was extra special. The sky was overcast, so there was a weight to the air. No sun sparkled off the water, so I found myself looking up rather than out. Trees line much of the boulevard, and I found myself drinking in the calm green that hovered overhead. The only time I get anything resembling a runner's high occurs in these kinds of moments. A tingling wave of warmth, connection and presence washes over me, and I am happy to be alive and outside.

After running along in my own little revery, I rounded the corner and saw something that grabbed my heart in an entirely different way.

Along the road were a series of pictures. They were of fallen soldiers. I had heard about the sponsoring group, "wear blue: run to remember" in a Seattle Times article the day before. The group was started by some Ft. Lewis wives who lost their husbands to the war. They have found running to be a powerful healing and coping device, and meet regularly to run together. The group has grown to 250, and many would run the race. They started as a group in corral 17 (to honor the 1-17th Infantry), and the names of 43 soldiers were read at the start line.

The group posted the images and names of the soldiers along the course at around mile 7. And just beyond the blue placards there were 43 full sized American flags with a black ribbon listing the soldier's name. It was an incredibly powerful moment for me, my friends and all of the other runners. I can't imagine what it was like when the family of the soldiers ran by.

As we ran by, many of us saluted the pictures and people, and at one point I reached out to touch one of the flags. The pain of running is nothing in comparison.

Incredible.

Check out their website, read about their mission, and see some incredible pictures from the race. www.wearblueruntoremember.org

Getting the band back together

2011-06-24T11:33:00.000-07:00

Well, the Seattle Rock n Roll Half Marathon is tomorrow. This is the third annual event, and I have run it each time. The first year I ran the full marathon, but the second half of the course is kind of an ugly slog along the viaduct, so I am sticking to the half again this year. The event is a great excuse to come up to Seattle, and another opportunity to run with my original running mates.

All this running and biking started with some sunburned knees back in 2002. Since then there have been countless miles across several states, and plenty of pictures and medals to mark the path. There have been 5k fun runs, dips into Lake Washington on New Year's Day, a 30 hour relay run, nine full marathons, and I am nineteen-odd hours from my eighth half marathon.

Over the years a team of four developed. There have been many others that have run and biked alongside us, but four of us were regularly at the start lines together. We pushed and cajoled each other to take on larger challenges, and we became Team Drunken Promise. Although we run much fewer events these days, and there is now a thousand miles between us, we still have that core of support for each other.

We will be towing the line together tomorrow morning, in what has become an annual tradition. All four of us have run the event since it started, and it will be a real treat to have the gang back together for another challenge on the roads.

A quick visit

2011-06-23T14:47:00.000-07:00

I am heading back to Seattle for a long weekend. Of course the time will fly by, and the weekend won't feel long at all.

Not that I need much excuse to head north, but the reason for this particular weekend is to both run a half marathon, as well as attend a wedding reception. Two friends were married in Puerto Vallarta last weekend, and they are having a local Seattle reception before moving to Australia for a couple of years.

I will also try to cram in as many visits with friends while I am up there, so the half marathon is not the only thing I will be doing at a dead run. There are a few faces I am hoping to see that I haven't seen since I moved to San Diego a year and a half ago. The time seems to have flown by like it always does (unless you are standing in line at the airport), but it also seems like forever since I have seen some dear friends.

Life is good here in San Diego, but my heart will continue to be torn between the two places. I will also be back up in July to spend the week with my extended family. I am fortunate to have had a couple of free airfares (one earned, another donated) to make these trips possible. Texts, emails and phone calls have become more important these days, but they can not replace a hug in person. I hope I can continue to make these trips possible somehow.

San Diego became a second home rather quickly. It is a beautiful area, and I am surrounded by wonderful friends. And being with Kristy has made it feel even more like home lately. But there are a few things I still haven't become used to yet.

The heat is the most pronounced thing. The ocean provides some moderation, but you don't have to go too far inland before the temperatures climb dramatically. We were working in the 92 degree heat yesterday, and it was frying my still rainy blood and Irish-white skin. 90 degree temps will sound lovely to Seattlelites still trying to shake off winter, but there was no pool or umbrella drinks, only work with no shade.

On the freeways, I have still not become accustomed to the motorcycles riding between the lanes. The logic is that if traffic is stalled, they will overheat, so they must keep moving. But most riders weave in between cars when traffic is moving right along. I am surprised that there are not more accidents, but natives must have better eyes than I do.

The other thing that continues to seem odd is seeing children in bars. In Washington, you must be of drinking age to be in a lounge or bar. The law is taken literally, so even infants are not allowed across the yellow line. But kids are in most every bar here, and it still catches me off guard a bit. It isn't wrong necessarily, just odd. I am sure parents love it, unless they are trying to have one moment away.

Sean and I were at a brewery the other day, and there were a couple of kids there. This kid seemed to tie a nice bow on how completely different it is. Not only was the kid crawling around among the steel kegs and wooden barrels, but he was making chalk drawings on the concrete floor.

It is like he is just decorating the sidewalk out in front of his house while his parents catch up with the neighbors over a beer. Not such a bad thing I suppose.

Change is still good.

The fair isn't what it used to be

2011-06-21T21:30:00.000-07:00

The lists of "firsts" continues to grow, as does questionable eating habits.

Kristy and I went to the Del Mar Fair this weekend. I had not been to this one, and it had been probably a decade since I had been to any fair. Growing up, my family went to the Puyallup Fair each year. It is the biggest in Washington and among the ten largest in the world. It has been around forever, and even snagged the website thefair.com. So it is officially "the" fair.

Of course as a kid, it was mostly about the rides and the animals. As I grew older, the booths with the cool gadgets and artwork were where I spent most of my time. But no matter the year, one thing was a draw each year. The scones.

As the bag indicates, the Fisher scones have been at the fair since 1915. It has been years since I have had one, but the the buttery flakiness and raspberry jam are burned into my taste-bud memory.

Fair food has moved onto bigger (though I am not sure better) things since then. Now it is all about deep fat frying, and each year I hear about something crazier on the menu. But this is the first time I had actually experienced it.

After watching some entertaining battles on the demolition derby track...

...we got down to deep fried business. First were the deep fried pickles, and they were definitely the best of the bunch.

Then we stood in a long, slow line at Chicken Charlies. Reasoning that we didn't want to get in line again, we bought four different things as a group - deep fried Twinkies, deep fried Klondike Bars, a sandwich of fried chicken with a split jelly Krispy Kreme donut for the bun, and somehow, deep fried Kool-Aid.

It was an overwhelming gut bomb, even split among the crowd. The Twinkie was unimproved, the Kool-Aid was surprisingly good, and the Klondike and Krispy Kreme concoctions were good, but more sugar than anyone should handle on their own. Rides were out of the question with all the junk in our stomachs, and we felt pretty crummy the next day. I think I need to stick to fruits and vegetables for the next week just to bring my body back to life.

If I make it to the fair again, I will stick to only one thing from Chicken Charlies fry shack. But if I could find Fisher scones there, I might risk eating myself sick again.

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T11:12:00.000-07:00

click to enlarge

Go Annabelle!

2011-06-17T08:14:00.000-07:00

Today is the day to pray for accuracy. Keep them in your thoughts this morning.

Link

I don't remember who spoke at my commencement

2011-06-15T21:40:00.000-07:00

The Conan O'Brien commencement speech has been posted in several different places, and I finally sat down to listen to it tonight. It is funny, but poignant as well.

He handled his firing at NBC last year with grace, and I quoted him here when he said,

“I hate cynicism. It’s my least favorite quality and it doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen.”

During the commencement speech he talks about achieving his dream, quickly losing it all, and what he did during the aftermath. The whole thing is worth watching, but some of the high points toward the end are:

There are few things more liberating in this life, than having your worst fear realized...

It is our failure to become our perceived ideal, that ultimately defines us, and makes us unique. It's not easy, but if you accept your misfortune, and handle it right, your perceived failure can become a catalyst for profound reinvention...

In 2000, I told graduates to not to be afraid to fail, and I still believe that. But today I tell you that whether you fear it or not, disappointment will come. The beauty is that through disappointment you can gain clarity, and with clarity comes conviction and true originality...

There is no greater cliche in a commencement address than "follow your dream". Well I am here to tell you, that whatever you think your dream is now, it will probably change. And that's OK. Four years ago many of you had specific vision of what your college experience was going to be, and who you were going to become. And I bet today that most of you would admit that your time here was very different from what you imagined...

But through the good, and especially the bad, the person you are now is someone you could have never conjured in the fall of 2007...

I'd like to end my address by braking a taboo, and quoting myself from 17 months ago. At the end of my final program with NBC, just before signing off, I said "work hard, be kind, and amazing things will happen". Today, receiving this honor, and speaking to the Dartmouth class of 2011 from behind a tree trunk, I have never believed that more. Thank you very much and congratulations.

The video is worth your 24 minutes.

Time stops for no man

2011-06-13T21:04:00.000-07:00

Once you are out of your 20's, moments begin to happen that make you think, "I am not as hip as I used to be." (Well actually, when you start using the word 'hip', you're pretty much done.) Moments where you recognize that the world has moved on while you weren't looking. Moments like when you look at the Billboard top 10 and think, "I wouldn't buy any of this", which is quickly replaced with, "I don't recognize any of these artists."

I had a moment somewhat like that this weekend. Fortunately, it wasn't one of those brutal moments that slaps you upside your head and says, "you're old!" though.

We were hanging out with some people in their 20's, and they were quoting a YouTube video. I actually knew the video, so I didn't feel all that out of it. But I recognized that where we used to quote Seinfeld episodes and the like, people now quote stuff from the internet. Videos and other memes are what pass for common culture now.

Not that quoting crap on the internet is any worse than quoting crap on tv, it is just different. And a sign that the world is moving on, with or without me.

Bumper sticker wisdom

2011-06-12T12:37:00.000-07:00

If you haven't changed your mind lately,
how can you be sure you still have one.

Resolution number six

2011-06-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

A new month, and new monthly resolution.

Last month's no-coffee resolution was successful. 31 days, zero cups of coffee. It turned out to be easier than expected physically. I had a couple of headaches early on, but they did not linger past the first few days. I had only attempted to give up coffee once before, and it felt like I couldn't think straight. I didn't notice any cognitive problems this time around, and it wasn't all that more difficult to get going in the mornings. As I mentioned before, I really missed it though. Even if I didn't need it, I still wanted it.

Of course part of the reason for these monthly goals is the hope that the behaviors will carry over on some level going forward. Since I normally had only a couple of cups a day, there isn't much to cut back on now that I am drinking it again. But two or three mornings this month, I have skipped coffee in the morning, and having a cup is more of a conscious decision now.

So, on to June's resolution - no mindless tv. I like many Americans watch entirely too much tv. It is not that there aren't programs of value, it is just the mindless habit of turning on the set without a particular program in mind that I need to break. The tv often goes on at dinner time, and stays on until I head for bed. I am often doing things on the computer at the same time, and as studies have shown, no one truly multi-tasks. I am not concentrating on either the tv or what I am doing on the computer, and hours slip away into nothing. It has to stop.

So, the goal is no mindless tv, and I plan to shoot for no tv at all. I have left myself a caveat that if there is a movie that I really (really) want to see, DVDs are allowed. But the bar is set pretty high. Matt and Holly have a changing stack of Netflix movies, and I haven't been tempted so far. Kristy and I did watch a movie over the weekend, but that is the only screen time in the last eight days.

I will now have a few extra hours each day to get stuff done. More reading, more writing, more catching up with friends via e-mail and otherwise. This is definitely one of those resolutions that I hope carries on after the month is over. Not that I won't watch tv again, but I hope to keep the bar high as to what is worth my time. Make tv less mindless, and shrink the amount of time I spend in front of it. And shrink TV into tv.

A weekend of firsts

2011-06-07T10:01:00.000-07:00

Still full from the indulgence of the day before, I started the day by skipping breakfast. Feeling a tad bit guilty that I had gone to Dog Beach without her, the pooch and I took a slow walk around the neighborhood. She is getting slower each time we head out, and pauses at nearly every bush to sniff out its history.

After the warm-up walk, I headed to Sunset Beach for my weekend 'long' run. Because of gas prices, it was the first time I had run there in a month or two. While part of the beauty of running is that you can do it nearly anywhere, it is hard to beat the feeling of running along the ocean. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the temperature was only a few degrees north of perfect.

At one point I slowed to watch a flock of pelicans fly by. The giant birds passed within 20 feet of me, and were impressive up close. While I was watching the birds approach, two people in front of me were staring off in the opposite direction. As the birds were gliding in from the north, two of those large twin-rotor transport helicopters were approaching from the south. They flew only a few hundred feet off the cliff side, though their size and sound made them seem much closer. I just stood and watched as these two sets of huge birds passed by in opposite directions.

I met up with Kristy after work, and it was on to some more 'firsts'. With chores and to-do lists cast aside, she suggested we do something she semi-regularly did on weekends before I came along. We went to get a pedicure. I had never had one before, and I wasn't interested in any toe painting, but the promise of the included foot massage tipped the scales. After getting our feet massaged, clipped, buffed and sanded, we went to a nearby Jamba Juice.

Along with the refreshing fruit juice, I had my first taste of wheatgrass. The grass is snipped fresh from a little garden behind the counter (like a little Chia Pet farm) and placed into a juicer that looks a little like a small meat grinder. Several handfuls of the grass are squeezed to produce an ounce shot of the green juice. And it is taken like a shot, complete with an orange slice chaser. All that was missing was the salt shaker. It did not look very appealing, but the taste was surprisingly pleasant, and I did not need to chew on the orange to mask the taste like I would for tequila.

Sunday morning we went for a long morning walk and met up with the Rock n Roll Marathon course. We met the runners at around mile 18, just before they crossed the freeway to run along Mission Bay. The runners were looking pretty worn by that point, and many were shuffling from the long miles and time in the sun. It is always inspiring to see people push beyond what they think are capable, and to press on when their mind is telling them to stop.

In the afternoon, we headed to a Sunday farmer's market up in Hillcrest. Along with a variety of fresh produce, there are several craft booths and plenty of food vendors. I had my first Scottish Egg as a late breakfast. A Scottish Egg is a hard-boiled egg, wrapped in sausage, coated with bread crumbs, which is then deep-fried. It may not sound or look appealing, but it was tasty.

I also sampled a cucumber juice concoction which was pretty good, and had my first taste of coconut water, straight from the coconut.

The vendors shave the skin off of young coconuts, wrap them in cellophane and throw them in a cooler. When you order one, they hammer a large nail into the coconut, put a straw into it and you are ready to drink. It was one of the few misses for me this weekend. It wasn't bad, but the taste and texture were just a little odd. Kristy says it is an acquired taste.

After indulging in the oddities and goodies of the market, we picked up some fresh produce so Kristy could make some Cowboy Caviar for our final stop of the relaxing weekend. We spent the evening with some friends at a beach on Coronado Island. The couple are camping out (well, RVing) for the week, and we spent the evening walking the beach and chatting by the fire.

It was a wonderfully relaxing weekend, the first in a long time where we got absolutely nothing done. And it was everything I thought it could be.*

*Office Space reference

A wonderfully lazy start to another year

2011-06-06T21:48:00.000-07:00

Friday was my birthday, and it was the beginning of a lovely weekend.

Kristy got up extra early so we could meet for breakfast before she had to head off to work. We went to Cafe on Park, and had pancakes bigger than a dinner plate. Their menu features some odd flavor combinations - Kristy had the Captain Crunch and Blueberry, and I had the Frosted Flakes and Banana. The food, endless coffee and the company made for a great start to the day.

Stuffed to the gills, I went for a walk around Balboa Park. The walk helped to settle my stomach, and the sunshine and beautiful scenery kept the feelings of wonder alive. I found a little walled-off area that honors the Park founders and developers, and sat in the sun for more than an hour reading.

Even the trees were feeling the love.

I started the day off slow, and planned to take it easy from there. After a great lunch at Five Guys, I talked with my brother for about a half hour. It had been too long, and it was nice to catch up. Then it was to Starbucks for free cup of coffee and computer time. There was a lovely outpouring of well-wishes on Facebook throughout the day, and I wanted to respond to each one, like sending off a thank-you note for their gifts of friendship.

The lazy-time continued as I headed off to Dog Beach. Even though I didn't have my own pooch with me, it is still one of the happiest places on Earth. I walked around in the surf for a half hour, enjoying the cool waters and romping dogs. I still had time before dinner, so I stopped by a nearby restaurant and had a drink on the patio overlooking the beach while reading my book.

I met up with Kristy, the Lindens and the Hawkins for dinner in Hillcrest. We had a great time at a local Mexican restaurant. The food was great, and the company even better. The only thing that could be possibly be called "missing" in this beautiful day was a little post-party goodness in the quiet of the evening. As Holly puts it on her blog,

Have you ever noticed that's it's often after the party is over that the really good stuff happens? A smaller, more intimate gathering, with the better bottle of wine poured because it can actually serve everyone now. The vibe is of the truest and most relaxed kind. The conversation is more candid and has more depth. The jokes are funnier, and the laughs are bigger and last longer.

I did get to wind down the evening with a special porter that Sean had brewed just for my birthday. It is a tasty brew with a great label co-designed by Sean and Holly.

It was a wonderfully, lazy birthday, made special by dear friends. And the rest of the weekend turned out to be a lovely post-party after all. A relaxing weekend with Kristy, filled with a few firsts to start off my 45th year.

Quote of the day

2011-06-03T14:54:00.000-07:00

Mitch Robbins: Have you ever had that feeling that this is the best I'm ever gonna do, this is the best I'm ever gonna feel... and it ain't that great?

Station Manager: Happy Birthday.

~ From City Slickers

Haven't peaked yet...it is still getting better.