Sunday, August 3, 2008
brief and typo laden
Moved into our new place in NY about a week ago but we don't have internet yet. My only connection is my new snazzy iPhone, which is not the most efficient means of typed communication. DSL may be on the way, but we're in a pretty rural area which means "the Google" is hard to come by. Training has so far consisted of loops around my land and a nice trail run with a couple of good friends. That was a bit longer than I planned on though, and it ended up being my longest run in a while (2.5 hours). Life is good. I've spent a lot of time clearing monstrous amounts of overgrowth in the yard. That has probably been my main source of fitness gain since getting through the trip and closing. Now it's on to getting back my trail running skills so that I can hold my own in an upcoming trail relay. I'll try to get a bit more consistent about posting as we get settled and connected. Happy running all!
Friday, July 18, 2008
2:06.2 and 57.5
So I've got a goal, and my times in the title at a local track meet yesterday are sufficiently close (and far) to make this realistic and challenging. I'm turning 30 next summer, and I want to shoot to beat my 17-18 year old shadow self (preferably the latter, of course). The times to beat are on the right. The 800m and mile are what I care about, since I think the 400m was in a relay. I think I might have to subtract .2 from the 800m PR though, since my HS coach said I ran 1:59.2 in an 880y race (they were just switching over to metric in high schools when I was running). So 1:58.5, here I come.
I was hoping for 2:10 yesterday, but it seems I had more in me that the recent 8x200m workouts I've been doing have indicated. Most of those were at 32-33 seconds, and they felt pretty darn hard. The race was a lot of fun, and it brought me back.
I started out easy, and took a slot at the back of a pack of high schoolers and local college guys, and sat on the shoulder of the guy in front of me, since I knew some guys would be slowing down soon. At 200m I had let a couple guys slip behind through the gap I had left by sitting on the shoulder, and on the downstretch I picked things up, and quickly got into a 3rd place position. At the bell lap, I was somewhere in the 61-62 second range, which was a surprise. It never feels as fast as it is that first lap. The guy in front of me I knew was a very fast guy just out for a fun jog, basically, but I worked on reeling him in anyway on the 3rd 200. This is the part of the race where things get interesting. I remember in high school starting to feel not so good at this point, after the first curve of the second lap, but there wasn't too much burn yet. I kept the turnover going, and was catching up, but when I hit 600m, I remembered how this race ends.
A mental panic sets in with 150m to go. You're suddenly convinced that you burned everything too soon, and you're going to basically be crawling past the finish line on your hands and knees, bleeding from the ears and with every organ failing. It's a real life dream sequence where you're being chased, but your legs won't move. You are convinced that the people behind you are strong and fast, their legs light and limber. They will pass you, feeling both triumph and pity simultaneously as they leave your mangled and twitching frame behind for the vultures.
It's not the way it usually works, unless your competing with Nick Symmonds. They're all feeling the same thing. I held on to my place, doing my best to hold form down the backstretch to the finish. I was a few seconds behind the leaders, and very jealous that they got to stop this insanity before I did. I crossed the line, got to the side, and did my best to take in the oxygen my body wanted so badly. A quick glance back at the finish as I crossed the line told me the remainder of my competition was about 10-15m away.
It was awesome.
For fun I joined the 400m race as well, which was about 20-30 minutes after the 800. I was barely recovered for it, but it only lasts a minute, so how bad could it be. I was passed very quickly by a bunch of guys after the first turn. A sprinter I am not. I had been talking during the meet with this guy named Willie Johnson, who was apparently a 45.x and 20.x guy in the 400m and 200m back in college...very very very fast. He's 48 now, and is in incredible shape. Still has the legs of a 400 guy, and the chest of a 20 year old. I hope I look anything within a hundred yards of that at that age. At the second curve, I could feel him behind me, and I caught his white singlet out of the corner of my eye with 100m to go. I held on, and apparently he burned out at that point. I crossed the line in 57.x, quite pleased. To be under 60 seconds is a good sign at this point. So I'll keep on working on my turnover, and putting in miles, and next month I'll start doing some tempo runs.
And hopefully I'll post a little more often after next week, when we'll be getting settled in our new house.
I was hoping for 2:10 yesterday, but it seems I had more in me that the recent 8x200m workouts I've been doing have indicated. Most of those were at 32-33 seconds, and they felt pretty darn hard. The race was a lot of fun, and it brought me back.
I started out easy, and took a slot at the back of a pack of high schoolers and local college guys, and sat on the shoulder of the guy in front of me, since I knew some guys would be slowing down soon. At 200m I had let a couple guys slip behind through the gap I had left by sitting on the shoulder, and on the downstretch I picked things up, and quickly got into a 3rd place position. At the bell lap, I was somewhere in the 61-62 second range, which was a surprise. It never feels as fast as it is that first lap. The guy in front of me I knew was a very fast guy just out for a fun jog, basically, but I worked on reeling him in anyway on the 3rd 200. This is the part of the race where things get interesting. I remember in high school starting to feel not so good at this point, after the first curve of the second lap, but there wasn't too much burn yet. I kept the turnover going, and was catching up, but when I hit 600m, I remembered how this race ends.
A mental panic sets in with 150m to go. You're suddenly convinced that you burned everything too soon, and you're going to basically be crawling past the finish line on your hands and knees, bleeding from the ears and with every organ failing. It's a real life dream sequence where you're being chased, but your legs won't move. You are convinced that the people behind you are strong and fast, their legs light and limber. They will pass you, feeling both triumph and pity simultaneously as they leave your mangled and twitching frame behind for the vultures.
It's not the way it usually works, unless your competing with Nick Symmonds. They're all feeling the same thing. I held on to my place, doing my best to hold form down the backstretch to the finish. I was a few seconds behind the leaders, and very jealous that they got to stop this insanity before I did. I crossed the line, got to the side, and did my best to take in the oxygen my body wanted so badly. A quick glance back at the finish as I crossed the line told me the remainder of my competition was about 10-15m away.
It was awesome.
For fun I joined the 400m race as well, which was about 20-30 minutes after the 800. I was barely recovered for it, but it only lasts a minute, so how bad could it be. I was passed very quickly by a bunch of guys after the first turn. A sprinter I am not. I had been talking during the meet with this guy named Willie Johnson, who was apparently a 45.x and 20.x guy in the 400m and 200m back in college...very very very fast. He's 48 now, and is in incredible shape. Still has the legs of a 400 guy, and the chest of a 20 year old. I hope I look anything within a hundred yards of that at that age. At the second curve, I could feel him behind me, and I caught his white singlet out of the corner of my eye with 100m to go. I held on, and apparently he burned out at that point. I crossed the line in 57.x, quite pleased. To be under 60 seconds is a good sign at this point. So I'll keep on working on my turnover, and putting in miles, and next month I'll start doing some tempo runs.
And hopefully I'll post a little more often after next week, when we'll be getting settled in our new house.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Big Ben, Parliament!
June 3rd was the 29th time that my body, confined to this planet, circled around the sun. If you got the title of this post, then you are a big dork. I've been working on this blog post off and on since then...
The birthday was good. Very good. It started out with a new Dama Bialetti espresso maker from my darling wife, which was immediately put to use in preparing mochas for me and the wife. Yummy. Also a couple of needed odds and ends. I also got to sleep in somewhat...I am normally in charge of the boy for the first hour or so of the day.
I went to work for a while, came back for a quick and uneventful checkup for the boy, went for a run, and then got all jazzed up for a night on the town. I need to put this night into writing somewhere, so it might as well be here. The dinner was something to remember. A very very good friend of ours decided we simply must experience this restaurant called Moto, and so my present was a dinner with the wife (she also baby-sat for us) at a this incredibly hip downtown establishment. The whole thing was a surprise for me...I had no idea where we were going, although I did know that it was all on our friend's tab.
When we arrived, the decor was simple, but elegant. Off-whites, modern but comfortable furniture, and soft lighting was the setting. The menus arrived, and it was clear this was going to be a whole lot of fun. The menu itself was printed on an apple wafer, served next to a piece of asparagus and asparagus puree, accompanied by lemon-truffle creme-fraiche, and a slice of black truffle. There are three choices...the 5 course, the 10 course, and what they call the GTM...we were also ordered by this friend to get the 10 course meal, with the accompanying wine progression. Eating the menu is the cue to the staff that you're ready to order, so we dug in. Immediately the waiter came, took our order (the wife got a single cocktail as she would be driving), and we were off and running.
Greek Salad:
The first course was the "Greek Salad" which was hard to see in the dish we got, but who the hell cares when you're served incredibly tender marinated north african octopus tentacles, accompanied by a puff type cracker made from puree of kalamata olives. It was served with pureed creamed parsley. The accompanying wine was a 2005 Torlesse Sauvignon Blanc from Waipara, New Zealand. It was clean and sweet, without much of palate cleansing acidity I've come to expect out of S.B.'s. Perfect with the dish.
Greek Salad, Again:
The second course was basically a shot of dressing. It was a palate cleansing bouquet of lemon, light oils, and some other crisp flavors that I couldn't quickly identify. It went by too fast to really describe it much better.
Nitro Pineapple:
This was a very good dish. It was two pieces of pineapple, with an allspice type of rub, freezer burned onto a "grill" that had been brought down to -320 degrees F with liquid nitrogen. This paired excellently with a glass of August Kessler Rheingau Riesling 2004, which was actually a bonus glass, according to the staff. Next to the cold grill was a plate containing a lightly fried piece of black sablefish (an atlantic catch) served in two sauces/purees that I couldn't identify by taste, but which were delicious. The slight crisp to the fish was amazing, and a good pairing with the buttery soft texture of the flesh. This was perfect with the pairing of the Sayuri Nigori sake (an unfiltered sake with a very floral bouquet). The sake was creamy in texture and taste from not being filtered, and was a good companion to the texture of the black sablefish.
Eggplant Parmigiano:
A "tomato" was fashioned from a sundried tomato gelatin outer, and inside was an eggplant puree with 15 year aged parmesean mixed in. The "leaves" of the tomato were made of basil, and it was suggested that we have a small piece of basil with every bite of the faux tomato. It was a good suggestion. On the far left corner of the plate was a dab of 100 year aged balsamic vinegar. Apparently there were only 3 bottles of it from some guy or distributor named Drake, and they got one of them. The staff suggested just tasting the balsamic on our finger a bit. It was intense. A well aged port kind of flavor dominated for me, and the staff told me there were hints of mediera [sic?] in it as well. At the end of the dinner they gave me a glass of the Mediera to taste, but I confess I couldn't make the tie-in with flavors such a long time after having the balsamic. There was a scattering of young arugula leaves on the plate, which had a nice bite to them, and it was all on top of a parmigiano type spice rub that wasn't rubbed. A pretzel stick cemented vertically to the plate with 15 year aged parmesean was delightful. This was the worst wine pairing in my mind, which is not to say it was bad at all. It was a 2006 Cote-De-Brouilly Beaujolais. It was very very good with the balsamic vinegar, but not as good with the other items in the dish.
BBQ pork and beans:
This dish was quite good, and marks the beginning of the main course type dishes. One of those morsels of meat that is incomprehensibly satisfying given its size. The kale was actually delicious! I say "actually," because I've never had good kale before. It was steeped in flavor, but I have no idea how it was cooked. It sort of informs me about kale though...the next time I cook it, I should maybe treat it like something that's supposed to absorb flavors, as it doesn't stand well on its own. The beans were tasty, but weren't as remarkable as the pork. They were good mixed with the meat. The wine was a pinot noir.
Pasta and Quail:
A high end play on the comfort food end. Moto's version of Mac and Cheese may well have been my favorite dish of the evening. On a small amount of denatured macaroni with 5 year aged greuere cheese, a delicious piece of crispy quail was served. I would describe quail as a light version of duck. The meat was incredibly tender, but not as fatty and thick as duck tends to be. Not a bad thing, that, but I just thought it the best way to describe it. A white truffle powder was sprinkled over the entire thing, and the dish was dominated by the flavor of the quail and of the truffle. The mac and cheese part were more of the canvas for the dish. I think this wine was my favorite as well. It was a granache wine (Betts and Scholl, Barossa Valley).
At this point, I was truly close to the peak of a gastronomic high. When I've been eating really good food, and getting a delightful buzz on from good wine, a smile starts to creep onto my face that I'm not really able to remove except by a strong exertion of will. I wasn't about to go and do that, so I was starting to grin like a damn goon at this time.
Braised Duck:
Roadkill platter! I find it great that such a good restaurant doesn't take itself seriously. I think that is part of making really good food. It's supposed to be fun. This was pulled duck meat "splattered" on the plate with beet puree making for a puddle of blood. The road lines were made with a yellow bean puree. Gin foam scattered on the "carcass" was the unfortunate creature's brains. Hawai'ian volcanic rock salt (by itself intensely delicious!) was the asphalt. I was almost starting to giggle now, I was so intoxicated with the meal. The dish was served with Muga Reserva, Rioja 2004. I remember it going quite well with the dish, but not much more detail than that.
Grapefruit:
A respite from the intensity of the main course. This was something like a jello shot, actually. Gin and tonic was encased in a grapefruit semi-solid gelatin, which was placed on a spoon. Underneath the spoon was a pile of grapefruit vesicles (seperated by hand!) next to a grapefruit foam served with a bit of sweet coconut candy.
Popcorn ball:
I kind of lost it on this one. This dish went by fast, but it was hilarious. There's these two balls of candy in front of you. A soft candy outer shell was encasing a very sweet sugary liquid that somehow managed to have a popcorn flavor (in a good way). The thing that made me start laughing a little insanely was that they managed to have the thing full of poprocks, so soon after eating one of these, my mouth was full of poppy crunching noises.
S'mores:
Dessert was great. A flourless chocolate cake was formed into a hollow ball which contained this graham cracker flavored syrup. The dessert was actually set into tiers, with the cake and syrup on the top level just next to a ledge. Underneath the ledge was a "pool area." The diner's job is to cut into the cake, letting the syrup drain into the waiting pool below, which was formed by a loose arrangement of marshmallow and graham cracker. The drinks served with dessert were a very young tasting port (Sutton Cellars, La Solera 2nd bottling) and a glass of mediera which I was supposed to compare with the 100 year aged balsamic that they served earlier in the dinner. I didn't honestly make the connection between the mediera and the vinegar, mostly because they were a bit too seperated. Too many flavors inbetween. The mediera was awesome though, and I was insanely intoxicated, both by the wine and the food.
A fantastic birthday present!
The birthday was good. Very good. It started out with a new Dama Bialetti espresso maker from my darling wife, which was immediately put to use in preparing mochas for me and the wife. Yummy. Also a couple of needed odds and ends. I also got to sleep in somewhat...I am normally in charge of the boy for the first hour or so of the day.
I went to work for a while, came back for a quick and uneventful checkup for the boy, went for a run, and then got all jazzed up for a night on the town. I need to put this night into writing somewhere, so it might as well be here. The dinner was something to remember. A very very good friend of ours decided we simply must experience this restaurant called Moto, and so my present was a dinner with the wife (she also baby-sat for us) at a this incredibly hip downtown establishment. The whole thing was a surprise for me...I had no idea where we were going, although I did know that it was all on our friend's tab.
When we arrived, the decor was simple, but elegant. Off-whites, modern but comfortable furniture, and soft lighting was the setting. The menus arrived, and it was clear this was going to be a whole lot of fun. The menu itself was printed on an apple wafer, served next to a piece of asparagus and asparagus puree, accompanied by lemon-truffle creme-fraiche, and a slice of black truffle. There are three choices...the 5 course, the 10 course, and what they call the GTM...we were also ordered by this friend to get the 10 course meal, with the accompanying wine progression. Eating the menu is the cue to the staff that you're ready to order, so we dug in. Immediately the waiter came, took our order (the wife got a single cocktail as she would be driving), and we were off and running.
Greek Salad:
The first course was the "Greek Salad" which was hard to see in the dish we got, but who the hell cares when you're served incredibly tender marinated north african octopus tentacles, accompanied by a puff type cracker made from puree of kalamata olives. It was served with pureed creamed parsley. The accompanying wine was a 2005 Torlesse Sauvignon Blanc from Waipara, New Zealand. It was clean and sweet, without much of palate cleansing acidity I've come to expect out of S.B.'s. Perfect with the dish.
Greek Salad, Again:
The second course was basically a shot of dressing. It was a palate cleansing bouquet of lemon, light oils, and some other crisp flavors that I couldn't quickly identify. It went by too fast to really describe it much better.
Nitro Pineapple:
This was a very good dish. It was two pieces of pineapple, with an allspice type of rub, freezer burned onto a "grill" that had been brought down to -320 degrees F with liquid nitrogen. This paired excellently with a glass of August Kessler Rheingau Riesling 2004, which was actually a bonus glass, according to the staff. Next to the cold grill was a plate containing a lightly fried piece of black sablefish (an atlantic catch) served in two sauces/purees that I couldn't identify by taste, but which were delicious. The slight crisp to the fish was amazing, and a good pairing with the buttery soft texture of the flesh. This was perfect with the pairing of the Sayuri Nigori sake (an unfiltered sake with a very floral bouquet). The sake was creamy in texture and taste from not being filtered, and was a good companion to the texture of the black sablefish.
Eggplant Parmigiano:
A "tomato" was fashioned from a sundried tomato gelatin outer, and inside was an eggplant puree with 15 year aged parmesean mixed in. The "leaves" of the tomato were made of basil, and it was suggested that we have a small piece of basil with every bite of the faux tomato. It was a good suggestion. On the far left corner of the plate was a dab of 100 year aged balsamic vinegar. Apparently there were only 3 bottles of it from some guy or distributor named Drake, and they got one of them. The staff suggested just tasting the balsamic on our finger a bit. It was intense. A well aged port kind of flavor dominated for me, and the staff told me there were hints of mediera [sic?] in it as well. At the end of the dinner they gave me a glass of the Mediera to taste, but I confess I couldn't make the tie-in with flavors such a long time after having the balsamic. There was a scattering of young arugula leaves on the plate, which had a nice bite to them, and it was all on top of a parmigiano type spice rub that wasn't rubbed. A pretzel stick cemented vertically to the plate with 15 year aged parmesean was delightful. This was the worst wine pairing in my mind, which is not to say it was bad at all. It was a 2006 Cote-De-Brouilly Beaujolais. It was very very good with the balsamic vinegar, but not as good with the other items in the dish.
BBQ pork and beans:
This dish was quite good, and marks the beginning of the main course type dishes. One of those morsels of meat that is incomprehensibly satisfying given its size. The kale was actually delicious! I say "actually," because I've never had good kale before. It was steeped in flavor, but I have no idea how it was cooked. It sort of informs me about kale though...the next time I cook it, I should maybe treat it like something that's supposed to absorb flavors, as it doesn't stand well on its own. The beans were tasty, but weren't as remarkable as the pork. They were good mixed with the meat. The wine was a pinot noir.
Pasta and Quail:
A high end play on the comfort food end. Moto's version of Mac and Cheese may well have been my favorite dish of the evening. On a small amount of denatured macaroni with 5 year aged greuere cheese, a delicious piece of crispy quail was served. I would describe quail as a light version of duck. The meat was incredibly tender, but not as fatty and thick as duck tends to be. Not a bad thing, that, but I just thought it the best way to describe it. A white truffle powder was sprinkled over the entire thing, and the dish was dominated by the flavor of the quail and of the truffle. The mac and cheese part were more of the canvas for the dish. I think this wine was my favorite as well. It was a granache wine (Betts and Scholl, Barossa Valley).
At this point, I was truly close to the peak of a gastronomic high. When I've been eating really good food, and getting a delightful buzz on from good wine, a smile starts to creep onto my face that I'm not really able to remove except by a strong exertion of will. I wasn't about to go and do that, so I was starting to grin like a damn goon at this time.
Braised Duck:
Roadkill platter! I find it great that such a good restaurant doesn't take itself seriously. I think that is part of making really good food. It's supposed to be fun. This was pulled duck meat "splattered" on the plate with beet puree making for a puddle of blood. The road lines were made with a yellow bean puree. Gin foam scattered on the "carcass" was the unfortunate creature's brains. Hawai'ian volcanic rock salt (by itself intensely delicious!) was the asphalt. I was almost starting to giggle now, I was so intoxicated with the meal. The dish was served with Muga Reserva, Rioja 2004. I remember it going quite well with the dish, but not much more detail than that.
Grapefruit:
A respite from the intensity of the main course. This was something like a jello shot, actually. Gin and tonic was encased in a grapefruit semi-solid gelatin, which was placed on a spoon. Underneath the spoon was a pile of grapefruit vesicles (seperated by hand!) next to a grapefruit foam served with a bit of sweet coconut candy.
Popcorn ball:
I kind of lost it on this one. This dish went by fast, but it was hilarious. There's these two balls of candy in front of you. A soft candy outer shell was encasing a very sweet sugary liquid that somehow managed to have a popcorn flavor (in a good way). The thing that made me start laughing a little insanely was that they managed to have the thing full of poprocks, so soon after eating one of these, my mouth was full of poppy crunching noises.
S'mores:
Dessert was great. A flourless chocolate cake was formed into a hollow ball which contained this graham cracker flavored syrup. The dessert was actually set into tiers, with the cake and syrup on the top level just next to a ledge. Underneath the ledge was a "pool area." The diner's job is to cut into the cake, letting the syrup drain into the waiting pool below, which was formed by a loose arrangement of marshmallow and graham cracker. The drinks served with dessert were a very young tasting port (Sutton Cellars, La Solera 2nd bottling) and a glass of mediera which I was supposed to compare with the 100 year aged balsamic that they served earlier in the dinner. I didn't honestly make the connection between the mediera and the vinegar, mostly because they were a bit too seperated. Too many flavors inbetween. The mediera was awesome though, and I was insanely intoxicated, both by the wine and the food.
A fantastic birthday present!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
42.4 Miles
This week. Lots of stuff going on, running still isn't at the forefront, but 40+ miles ain't bad, I suppose. The clock's now ticking towards closing on our house, which is a really sweet place. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that nothing (else) goes wrong, and that the place will be our's (or our bank's) in a matter of weeks. We'll have our own private pond, 7+ acres (with a trail going around which I'll mark out 400m), and oodles of other great stuff.
In the meantime, I have a serious running goal looming in the future: The Triennial, a trail relay along the Fingerlakes Trail which is very close to where we'll be living. It's tough to train specifically for this at the moment, since there are no serious trails to speak of in Chicago, but some decent aerobic building should be good, and I'm going to try to be hitting the weight room from time to time. Technical trail running really is a significantly different sport in comparison with road racing. There are muscle groups that you never knew existed until after a good trail race. The stabilizers are heavily recruited. When we arrive in NY, I'll have some time to hit the trails and get some good tempo style backwoods running in.
I'm starting to look forward to my new job, too. Teaching is something I really need to get back to. It gives structure to the life of research, which is inherently unstructured, and stop and start so far as progress is concerned. It will be busy though, and it's going to take some time to find out how to "git 'er dun."
Anyhow, now that home buying stress should be leveling off, I want to try and get back to the grindstone so far as training is concerned. 60+ weeks would be nice. We'll see what I can manage.
In the meantime, I have a serious running goal looming in the future: The Triennial, a trail relay along the Fingerlakes Trail which is very close to where we'll be living. It's tough to train specifically for this at the moment, since there are no serious trails to speak of in Chicago, but some decent aerobic building should be good, and I'm going to try to be hitting the weight room from time to time. Technical trail running really is a significantly different sport in comparison with road racing. There are muscle groups that you never knew existed until after a good trail race. The stabilizers are heavily recruited. When we arrive in NY, I'll have some time to hit the trails and get some good tempo style backwoods running in.
I'm starting to look forward to my new job, too. Teaching is something I really need to get back to. It gives structure to the life of research, which is inherently unstructured, and stop and start so far as progress is concerned. It will be busy though, and it's going to take some time to find out how to "git 'er dun."
Anyhow, now that home buying stress should be leveling off, I want to try and get back to the grindstone so far as training is concerned. 60+ weeks would be nice. We'll see what I can manage.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
World Record!
So have I mentioned that I'll be working in the same department as a former world record holder?
I will be!
Indoor mile, female 45-49 age group. Pretty cool.
So I wasn't tagged, but I found this interesting. I really liked Tusca's. Here's my unsolicited "six word novel":
Walking feels wrong, so I run.
I could explain it, but it's fairly transparent. The thing I liked about these is the fact that there are usually lots of ways to interpret just six words, and these interpretations will likely vary from person to person based on experience.
Hemmingway's is pretty damn dark...copied from Tuscaloosa:
For Sale: Baby shoes. Never worn
Running is happening. I often have been skipping the watch, and I haven't been logging, but I'm keeping it up about 4-5 days a week. 30-40 miles, probably.
I will be!
Indoor mile, female 45-49 age group. Pretty cool.
So I wasn't tagged, but I found this interesting. I really liked Tusca's. Here's my unsolicited "six word novel":
Walking feels wrong, so I run.
I could explain it, but it's fairly transparent. The thing I liked about these is the fact that there are usually lots of ways to interpret just six words, and these interpretations will likely vary from person to person based on experience.
Hemmingway's is pretty damn dark...copied from Tuscaloosa:
For Sale: Baby shoes. Never worn
Running is happening. I often have been skipping the watch, and I haven't been logging, but I'm keeping it up about 4-5 days a week. 30-40 miles, probably.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Offer -- Counter-offer
Round one of home offer is complete, buyers losing. With a pretty reasonable opening bid, only a bit below what we know they paid for the place, these bastards counter-offered with a sum only negligibly below their asking price, which is over 10% more than what they paid only a few months ago. Good luck to them trying to find a complete sucker.
Unfortunately, we really like the place. We might not bother moving to another home. So we put our cards on the table, told them what we're willing to pay, take or leave. Hopefully they'll come to their senses.
I should run today, since I haven't the last two days. A little air will do me some good. More sleep would do me better, though. Getting the boy to sleep has been difficult these days.
Unfortunately, we really like the place. We might not bother moving to another home. So we put our cards on the table, told them what we're willing to pay, take or leave. Hopefully they'll come to their senses.
I should run today, since I haven't the last two days. A little air will do me some good. More sleep would do me better, though. Getting the boy to sleep has been difficult these days.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Identify Yourself
"I'm a physicist, a runner, and (most recently) a dad."
This is what I wrote to shortly and sweetly identify myself. The middle one is not really a very big part of the picture at the moment. That's not to say I'm not identifying myself as a runner any longer, but in life's ebbs and flows, running is in a cryogenic freeze these days.
So what's been happening that I might let this blog fall off? The three weeks in Santa Barbara were extremely productive physics-wise. I've got a really cool new project that I'm working on now because of it. I also "learned" to surf (I at least managed to stand up and ride a wave as far as it would take me). Then I had family visiting as soon as I got back. The next weekend was this most recent one, where the whole fam went on a house hunting/interviewing/job settling trip. My wife interviewed for a job (and got it! She rocks!) We found a house we love, and are now trying to put together an offer that will chain us to a hefty mortgage. A couple of decisions remain, but the paths are narrowed down to all the most promising ones, and everything is looking sunny, to our great delight.
I ran with some old friends, and had dinner with some others. Very good fun. Realizing we're really sick of Chicago has been an important step.
So why the title? We've been struggling to identify ourselves these days. What kind of place do we want to call home? Are we the type of people who want to live in a little friendly neighborhood? I don't think we are, in the end. I'd rather live on 7 acres, build a trail-style track around my land, swim in my pond, and chop wood than get together with "the guys" for poker on thursday nights or whatever. I guess for some of the same reasons that I chose a rather solitary pursuit as a hobby, I'd rather keep the neighbors at a decent arms-length.
So to wrap things up:
Sorry for disappearing so suddenly.
I'm still running a bit (a nice 4x800m 2:42 - 2:37 -2:35 - 2:37 yesterday).
Shit's still crazy, but it's all good shit.
Hopefully I'll post again sooner rather than later.
This is what I wrote to shortly and sweetly identify myself. The middle one is not really a very big part of the picture at the moment. That's not to say I'm not identifying myself as a runner any longer, but in life's ebbs and flows, running is in a cryogenic freeze these days.
So what's been happening that I might let this blog fall off? The three weeks in Santa Barbara were extremely productive physics-wise. I've got a really cool new project that I'm working on now because of it. I also "learned" to surf (I at least managed to stand up and ride a wave as far as it would take me). Then I had family visiting as soon as I got back. The next weekend was this most recent one, where the whole fam went on a house hunting/interviewing/job settling trip. My wife interviewed for a job (and got it! She rocks!) We found a house we love, and are now trying to put together an offer that will chain us to a hefty mortgage. A couple of decisions remain, but the paths are narrowed down to all the most promising ones, and everything is looking sunny, to our great delight.
I ran with some old friends, and had dinner with some others. Very good fun. Realizing we're really sick of Chicago has been an important step.
So why the title? We've been struggling to identify ourselves these days. What kind of place do we want to call home? Are we the type of people who want to live in a little friendly neighborhood? I don't think we are, in the end. I'd rather live on 7 acres, build a trail-style track around my land, swim in my pond, and chop wood than get together with "the guys" for poker on thursday nights or whatever. I guess for some of the same reasons that I chose a rather solitary pursuit as a hobby, I'd rather keep the neighbors at a decent arms-length.
So to wrap things up:
Sorry for disappearing so suddenly.
I'm still running a bit (a nice 4x800m 2:42 - 2:37 -2:35 - 2:37 yesterday).
Shit's still crazy, but it's all good shit.
Hopefully I'll post again sooner rather than later.
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