Seriously, though – Pastis knocks this one out of the ballpark.
The “Merry Christmas” part, though, is in the realization that we aren’t bound by Airplaneseatreclinology any more.
Oh, and Deene’s got a wonderful post about Christmas.
Postscript: Pastis proves he’s a softie at heart with my absolute favorite holiday special moment of all time:
Nods to RandomDuck.
Anyway, That’s Christmas here. Mostly, though, we try to avoid the mall.
I’ve got the pleasure of being on the ARC Tayrona, a Colombian Navy submarine (Armada de Republica Colombia – doesn’t “Armada” sound that much cooler than “Navy”?). And, I’ll confess, I like being at sea. Not the “apart from family” part of being at sea, but there’s things that you just can’t get in port.
There’s no sleep like sleeping in a rack that’s rolling – the motion must bring me back to something fundamental, the first essence of a memory, deep in my reptile brain, of being in my mother’s womb. Similarly, there’s the constant presence of other bodies nearby. It’s extremely social, but at the same time, it’s amazing how far away from other people you can get in your own mind.
I love riding with the Colombians – they love the sea. Being sailors to them hasn’t been broken down into a bunch of strictly technical procedures and checklists. It is THEIR ship, and THEIR crew, and their country. Good stuff.
But it’s good to be at sea again. Good to be in the environment where there’s ALWAYS something to do, never a chance to completely relax. And let’s be honest here for a minute – I thrive on stress. I’m never really happy unless I’m three days behind on two different projects. I like being Johnny-on-the-spot.
I’ve also been trying to figure out what draws me to the sea. I’ll be the first to admit – in a lot of ways, it sucks out here. Even when I was going out on the pipelay and construction barges in the Gulf of Mexico as a civilian, that pretty much blew. But there’s something special about having nothing on the horizon for 360 degrees, the motion of the wind and waves, and hard work.
(Incidentally, I’m back. I just felt compelled to write while I was out)
So, my general theory about the reserves has held true for yet another year. The theory being that the old reserve chestnut about “two days a month, two weeks a year” breaks down as follows: The “Two Days” a month, or drill weekend, is pretty painless, other than giving up a weekend each month. Which, I suppose I could do for Habitat for Humanity or something if I weren’t a reservist.
The Two weeks a year, or the “Annual Training” part of being a Reservist: I’ve had the pleasure of doing the majority of my AT’s actually going to sea on actual Navy ships. The first week is awesome – all of that first year of excitement – haze grey and underway, nothing but the devil and the deep blue sea. Then, there’s the remembrance, sometime around day 7 or 10 (Day 9 this year for me), of all the little reasons why I resigned from Active Duty in the first place. And soon enough – I’m back on dry land, and there’s another 50 weeks or so until I do it again.
Trivia tonite.
It really amazes me how much I love living in a small town in New England. I dug our off-year local elections (No on the senior center to replace the really nice senior center they’ve already got, no on the heated pool if they approved the senior center, and yes for the animal shelter ’cause I’m on the verge of becoming a bleeding heart – Obama ’08 if Ron Paul or Huckabee lose the ‘pub nomination). And the monthly trivia night at the Harp and Hound downtown is the icing on the cake.
I broke down tonite and ran after the van got back to the carpool lot. Nothing exciting, 4.3 miles. 10 minutes warmup, two halfhearted 800s around the soccer field – no track, no lights, just running on turf, which is wicked tough, and 15 minutes of cooldown.
And the monthly bike downtown to the pub. Couple of beers – we lost again (stupid Gimballs parade), and a 45 minute ride back to the house in the dark. Took a new and different long way – only saw three cars.
It’s an interesting crowd – there’s a couple of teams from either Conn College or Mitchell, a bunch of Pfizer types, usually a team from out-of-town, a couple of Navy teams, and us – a combination of engineers and n’ere-do-wells from around town. There’s good beer, no room, and it beats watching television.
The ride home for me is the best bit, though. There’s a serendipity to spinning as transportation, feeling the fog roll in off of the Sound, and appreciating the silence that follows the first hard frost. Good sleep tonight. I hope it’s still warm in three weeks.
So, I hadn’t thought about it much, but there’s a pun up there.
And, yeah, it’s been way too long since I’ve posted. I owe Jeff a meme, Mark an article, and a slew of congratulations to David, Danny, and everyone else who’s done marathons.
So, let’s take this in reverse chronological order:
This weekend: Missy and I took place in the 5.5 mile tribute run on Friday. Neither of us really follow the marathon scene, but the idea of a guy literally running his heart out is moving. So, while I took the kids to swimming, Missy ran to the Y, and then I ran home. Did the 5.5 for Ryan and another 4.5 for myself. Life is good.
Sunday night was an aborted camping trip – Jake and I headed out to the woods, had supper, and started sleeping. Turns out he’s a really light sleeper, and I mistook that for being on the verge of hypothermia, so we hiked out at one in the morning, in the dark. Which ended up being extremely cool in its own way. When we got home, we snuck into the guest room downstairs and pulled the door shut behind us. Missy and Nate didn’t realize we were in until we walked out after they were eating breakfast. The extra sleep was nice.
I had a great run while on travel last week, but am having trouble getting in runs during the week. I started riding a van-pool, which rocks for giving me an extra two hours in each day to do whatever the heck it is I want, but giving up flexibility is tough. I can’t delay leaving for work, and even though I’m consistently getting home earlier than I did before, I feel obliged to spend the time saved with the wife and kids, as I’m essentially getting personal productive time while I’m on the van (Such as time to catch up on my RSS feeds and eventually to blog on a regular basis).
So, schedule is going to be in flux. Plus, there’s cool stuff coming up at the end of this month that is really going to throw everything to the breeze.
Two weekends ago was a bust. The remnants of a hurricane blew through, marking the first nor’easter of the year. Plus, I had drill, which pretty much kills weekends. The flu mist completely killed me – on Saturday night I was asleep by 8, even before my oldest kid hit the hay. Sunday wasn’t much better, ’cause I was dreading heading to the 8th day of work in a row…
So, that’s pretty much it. Overall, I’ve got nothing to complain about. Once I get logistics worked out, the van is going to be a godsend – keeping me on a regular schedule. But for the time being, there are kinks to work out.
…appears to be over.
So, here’s the scenario: For about a month, I’d been planning a one-day trip to the DC area to iron out an agreement with a client and a supplier. Easy stuff – we’d been negotiating for a couple of months, and this was basically just to finalize a bunch of email and phone calls. That, and their caterer has great cookies. The plan was to leave Wednesday, spend all-day Thursday there, and fly back on the mid-evening flight. Plenty of time on either side of the meeting, plenty of time to do some of the planning I’ve been meaning to do.
Here’s what actually happened: Friday, we got the go-ahead to go pitch a project out in Colorado on Wednesday. So, there’s the flop-and-twitch to get last-minute travel arranged, AND, of course, I cannot drop my existing meeting to make flying 2/3 of the way across the country less painful, as we’ve been working towards this agreement for months.
So, we fly out on Tuesday after half a day in the office finalizing the pitch. Delayed an hour coming out of Dulles, so it’s 10 PM before we get checked in Tuesday night. Did a mile on the dreadmill that morning, but the ‘mill was a crappy one. On site at 8 AM, leave at about 4, and fight to get to DIA (DEN? Not sure which is the right one) in time to catch the red-eye back to the East Coast.
The flight’s delayed an hour, so I call the travel service to make sure my rental car company has been notified. They check the reservation, and say “Hey, that company’s closed after midnight”. Which is interesting, as my original flight was supposed to arrive at half past midnight, even without the delay… Got to the hotel in Maryland about 2AM. Not tragic, as I was meeting my client in the lobby at 9 to travel over to the supplier’s site. Decent sleep, but no running – rainy and tired.
The other opportunity that presented itself was to get a briefing on a R&D project that had direct application to some other stuff I’d been working on. I’ve been trying to meet a researcher for a couple of months – her schedule opened up the week before for the Friday of last week. So, I’d changed plans to fly back Friday afternoon. The wrinkle? My hotel of Wednesday night (the one I spent a grand total of 7 hours in) was all full up for Thursday night. So, I booked one inside the Beltway to be close to Friday’s meeting.
And got creamed by Thursday afternoon traffic.
Bleh. Checked in about 7:30 PM, logged into the VPN to clear the inbox, and jumped on the Metro. Rode down a couple of stops, got off, and walked back to the hotel, stopping to get some Mexican food and Shiner Bock just off of Capitol hill. Didn’t see anyone worth seeing making out with interns, though.
Friday’s meeting was great – good info, but another 8AM start, which meant that, after staying up to watch the Sox somehow not choke (Heh, have I dated myself?), I didn’t run.
Made it back to Mystic in time for supper AND to head down to my bi-monthly meeting with a needle before a lovely supper. Interesting bit of Jank trivia: My hematocrit was 47. I’m kind of bummed that they don’t use the Cu(2)SO4 test anymore (I dug the blue test tube and the little donuts of blood), but it’s kind of cool to get the number. No EPO for me – no wiggle room at all.
The irony? My bit on traveling and running ran on Wednesday. Not that I’m complaining – the week was phenomenal professionally. No major disasters traveling, just a string of minor inconveniences. And it wasn’t a disaster training-wise, not once I got home.
This weekend I ran.
Saturday, we slept in, took the kids to swimming lessons (Nate passed Pike, Jake’s getting to continue working on Pollywog). I went over to the church to help clean up after the White Elephant sale while Nate napped. When I got back, Missy headed out for a quick run (pun intended). She got back, and insisted that I go. A good 4 miles later, I was back. There was a hill about mile 2.5 where i felt really winded. Kind of depressing, ‘cept as I was heading back down, I felt the band-aid on my arm, and remembered I’d given blood (Yep, that kind of week).
Sunday, we left Melissa’s car at church when we headed out for lunch. After we got home, Jake hopped on his bike, I strapped on my sneakers, and we headed down to retrieve the car. Jake was a trooper – wouldn’t let me push his bike up the killer hill on the way, and we made the 3.5 miles at better than an 8 minute pace. The kid rocks.
Swam tonite – I could really, really feel the lack of blood. Can’t breathe more rapidly with your face under water… Will start Run Less, Run Faster-style speedwork on Tuesday.
So, I’m salvaging.
Deene – wish that I’d had more time in Colorado. Maybe I’ll get asked back…
Congrats to the folks from Grand Rapids and Marine Corps. Checked the results – an OCS buddy of mine almost broke 3:20, and to April-Anne.
So, where have I been? Busy, and took the boys backpacking again over the long weekend. They’re awesome – Jake made the entire mile back to the campsite without a grumble at all, and Nate has no issues sleeping in the woods.
I am still amused by both of them insisting that it’s time to get in the tent “now, daddy” as soon as the sun goes down.
I love my wife and all, but this is how our conversations are going these days. Which, in and of itself, rocks, as I’m into my second year of staying under 175, the longest I’ve been this skinny (though still above the “normal” BMI – still have work to do, hence the “tuber”) since before I went to college and discovered beer (mmmmmm – beer). (It also doesn’t help that the Frazz homepage says that Jeff Mallett, who Jon says is a quality human being, swam the freakin’ Strait of Mackinac for charity.)
Before I get into my paean to late summer, an admin item – Missy’s running the Niantic Bay Half Marathon on Sunday as her last hurrah before Hartford. The boys and I will be there as soon as church lets out. Michelle will be there selling Bondi Bands, which are so cool I’m thinking about getting one to keep my ears warm in winter. Should be good – an early fall afternoon at the beach. Hopefully they’ve kept the chowder despite getting rid of the Marathon.
Now – Late summer.
Dianna nailed the beginning of fall this week. I broke out of my rut toady after work (at an undisclosed location) for a freakin’ great run. Freed of the normal time constraints by a loving and patient wife, I set out and, much like Mark, I embraced “Run, Billy, Run!” and ran, ran, ran, ran, ran. I took the iPod with me for Nike+, but didn’t plug in the headphones.
And, man.
There’s nothing like a fall run on an Indian Summer day. A little bit of warm and humidity had rolled in – should have great thunderstorms tonight. The sun was getting low on the horizon, and the light of the “golden hour” was amplified by the strong hints of color on the trees. Blissfully little traffic, and I surprised myself by finding some wonderful rail-trail.
So I ran.
I knocked out about 3.5 before I came to a big hill. Paused Nike+, and walked for a little bit. Kept walking, exploring the area, and wondering about those who’d been here before.
Rural New England is the absolute greatest. There’s a history here unlike much of the rest of the country. Business empires and factories built and forgotten. Roads and rails and whole communities slowly disappearing under blankets of rotting leaves, thick oaks and maple roots tearing up the hopes and dreams of a century ago.
I wandered past an abandoned reservoir, wondering who’d built it, and if they’d known that it’d be choked with lilies and marsh grass someday instead of providing power for their water wheels. Flushed a covey(?) of grouse, and got a flashback of the quickening of the pulse and sharpening of the senses that is the draw of hunting upland game. Came across a pond, crept up over a hill, and jumped a couple of dozen ducks. They’d carved paths between the lilies and duckweed, and made a ruckus as they flew off.
Ran another mile and a half, and walked for about an hour or so in addition. Nike+ gave me credit for 5 miles running, so I figure I did between 8 and 9 miles total with the walking. Just what the body needs.
This weekend, I’m going to plow through “Run less, run faster”, and actually chisel out a training schedule for OKC. 7 months to go. Which translates to 3 months (12 weeks) to drop 10 pounds (completely plausible, ‘cept for Thanksgiving and Christmas), and 16 weeks to go from an 8 mile long run to 26.2 again.
Man, I’m psyched.
Story of my life continues below the break.
Continue reading Story of my life (Part 1)
Last week ended up being a wash for me. The trip I was on somehow sucked the life out of me. The class stinks, and I was more than a little bummed by the hotel, which looked to be in a promising running location, but had slightly more traffic and slightly taller hills than I’d anticipated. So, the running’s been miserable, and by miserable I mean mostly non-existant.
I had a great weekend at home – finished a home-improvement project I’ve been studiously putting off for a while, and had quality time with the boys. But, amazingly, I managed to blow off running.
Missy and I even had a little tussle about that. I’d mentioned that I was thinking about running on Sunday morning before church. I even went so far as to set an alarm and make sure my shoes were in the bag. But, ultimately, I woke up in the night to pee, turned off my alarm, and slept until the boys bounced on me. She was a bit cheesed, as she’d been planning on heading to the Y if I hadn’t run.
So, the takeaway is that I need to do what I say I’m going to do. Take a page from the wife, and stick to a plan.
7 months until OKC. 20 mile base is established. Now the training begins.
