Friday – great run to the Gazebo on the Navy Base and back – 5.2 miles.
Saturday – Another 6.4 miles over the hill, heading home from the Y.
Monday – Despite thinking better of it, I headed to the Gazebo during lunch – 5.2 miles. Felt every mile of the 35+ on the bike on Sunday.
Tuesday – blew off running.
Today – Swam 1500 meters. Used new watch/HRM with lap timer. Realized what I knew – that I’m a pretty consistent 55 second lap swimmer. Felt awful. Going to bed early.
Category: life
Huge shout out to TRCWTOH!
And best wishes to Jeff in Boston on Monday. UPDATE: Susan(Susie) has pictures.
Dianna, AKA “the running chick with the orange hat” threw a pre-Boston shindig for Jeff, AKA “The Amazing Hip” and the rest of his fan club up here in the quickly thawing northeast. It was, as you would expect, absolutely perfect. Somehow, I slipped onto the guest list.
Got to catch up with Susan, who continues to be one of the most intriguing people I’ve met. I’m amazed at how she continues to add to a life well lived, and inspired at her ability to follow her heart.
Saw Michelle again, and was momentarily embarrassed that I’d forgotten we’d met at the New Haven 20K. Was regaled with the ins and outs of watching the Boston Marathon, including how to get from the bar at mile 7 (“no, that’s mile 7.4”) to the one at mile 14, and to the one near the finish. Met her husband, recently returned from mobilization with the National Guard and now teaching high school again.
April Anne was there – hope and the future rolled into one smiling package. Next fall some lucky school is going to have a new teacher (Hey, there’s a thread here – what is it with running and education that makes folks pour there hearts out on the Web?)
Had the pleasure of meeting Annalisa for the first time, who had drug in from Boston, and she’s as witty in real life as she is online. Moreso, in fact. She wowed with the story of her secret crush on the 90 year old guy in her neighborhood. The guy grew up as a bobbin boy in one of the famous Lowell, Mass, textile mills, and, until recently, spent his days in a driving cap and bowtie, hustling college kids out of their money playing pool.
Dianna was running around eight ways to Sunday, and had laid out the spread for us. Her man, Jason, seemed to be having a great time, too – feigning interest in our running stories, and laughing at the jokes.
And Jeff and SMSMH completely failed to disappoint – the beautiful people really do live out in California. How cool to meet folks who suddenly feel like old friends.
What a great time! We stayed until TRCWTOH kicked us out.
Wish I could make Boston on Monday.
And a huge thanks to the New England RBF – it’s a relief to know that there are wonderful people out there doing great things. Hopefully, some of that rubs off…
Unexpected Long Run
So, my client calls me up about 9:30 today – “Hey, can we go over your project today?”
“Sure,” I say, for once completely up to date.
“Great” he says. “Didja bring your stuff to run? I’m heading out at 11:15.”
“Yep. Want to run out to the gazebo on the Navy Base?”
“Sure.”
That run did not happen. The next 6 hours were a mix of “Hey, can you wait just a second” and “So, are the changes done?” A very productive period, but kinda frustrating nontheless. Especially watching a brilliant blue noon drift to a grey and breezy afternoon.
In any case, I split the office with enough time to sneak in a run on the way home. I’d thought about just doing the run to the Gazebo myself, but thought better of it and headed to the north end of Jamestown Island. And started running.
You ever have one of those days when the sneaks finally hit the ground and suddenly everything’s all right? This was one of those. From the first couple of steps my plan for 20 minutes out and 20 minutes back was erased. Not sure why, but 8 miles popped into my head.
So, I set out to do eight miles. The forerunner hadn’t been used in a while, so he wasn’t particularly happy, but I started anyway and decided to guestimate the missed bit. To add to the challenge, I rearranged the normal loop I do to include the hill on North Main Street twice.
Yeah, I ate my Wheaties (OK, Kashi) this morning. Oooh, speaking of which – I really need to get back on the Eat Diary.
The run was exceptional, and somewhere around mile 5 I looked up and noticed that the clouds had pretty much evaporated, and what had been a grey afternoon was now bright and blue. The birds sang, the breeze blew, and the sun beat down on my ears.
As I came back to the soccer lot, the little voice in the back of my head started saying – “Hey, why not do another two to bring it up to an even 10?” I decided not to press my luck, mostly ’cause I knew that Missy and the boys were waiting. Taxes stress her out, even when I’m doing them, and even when the year is a net wash (refunds from Uncle and RI, need to pay CT through the teeth).
She headed out for a couple of mental health hours after supper, and the boys and I went for a bike ride instead of taking a bath (sssh, don’t tell, OK?) – me on the wife’s bike (the one with the “step-through” frame, ’cause I don’t ride no girls’ bikes…) Nate in the jump seat, and Jake on his two-wheeler, which he can get started by himself now. Still hasn’t figured out the brake thing from high speed – his reflex is to drag his sneaks to stop, and he ended up in the bushes on Sunday. Nothin’ big – just 10 minutes or so of fooling around, but man, is it good. Trash instead of hoops tonight, though – cannot be completely irresponsible.
Hope everyone else is as enamored of spring as I am. Jake pointed out the first dandelions in the yard. I think we’re makin’ salad this weekend!
Small Victories
I finally dug into the CSS sheet to figure out how to get caps back in the blog. Not too tough: Do a little replace for every “lowercase” to “none” in the “text transform” category. I’m figuring Jeff could use this to make everyone in his comments lowercase, too…
Other than that, I’ve been busy. Haven’t run since Monday, haven’t worked out since Wednesday.
So I’m chalking up this week as a “punt” – will roll into next week.
Additionally, it hit me that I’d already committed to an alternate engagement on the Friday of the Bluff Point Twilight Trail Run; unfortunately I cannot reschedule, so likely will not make a 2006 racing debut until the first Terramuggus tri in June.
But, by then, life should have settled out a bit.
Great Friday, So-So-Saturday, and Sunday
Friday was good. Good run about 1; beautiful spring day. Did the Navy Base 5.2 miler in 44 minutes. Not cooking but good.
As I was wrapping up work, I realized that I hadn’t broken out the bike all March. Luckily, it’s been riding in the back of my car all week. So, I squeezed in a quick couple of miles on Jamestown. Feel better about it after running it through the Gmap Pedometer – the odo on the bike told me it was just over 8 miles; the map is saying 8.57. I’m lovin’ that, ’cause it bumps my average speed up over 16 MPH.
What a day.
Saturday was the Physical Readiness Test. Did better than last time by busting out 70 situps and 50 pushups. The mile and a half – completely different story.
I’ve been fighting a cold for the better part of a week, courtesy of the Groton Public School Systems (though it should be noted that the parochial pre-school we sent Jake to was just as fetid a pool of disease). Saturday morning, I knew it wasn’t going to be a good day.
As we finished the calisthenics, the next omen rolls in: What had been a beautiful spring day is sullied by grey, light rain, and a powerful breeze out of the south. Making things better, the run finishes with three quarters of a mile into the wind.
Started out pretty good. I was hanging with the fastest five or six runners for the first quarter mile. Then, one of the really tall guys just kind of stretches out his stride, and opens up about 30′ on us without breathing hard. The other three really fast guys opened up, too. Me and Mac, the guy who did the epic 19 miler with me back in October, keep legging it out together, past the turn.
After the turn, I initially opened up a little on Mac. But, into the wind, the cold, the snot, and the wind all worked against me. Effort was pegged, and extreme discomfort began to play a role. With about a third of a mile behind me, I heard Mac’s footsteps pounding behind me. That broke me.
It hit me that there was no way I’d be able to hold him off until the finish. I was spent. Dead on my feet. Enough juice to make the end, but not enough to pick it up and finish strong. So, I pulled up, Mac blew past, and I cruised into the finish. 10:22 for the 1.5 miles.
The time – not so shabby; I’m pretty much happy with anything under 11. But, man, was that a sucky run. Not because of the run, but because of the cold. I’d have broken 10 if I felt good.
Sunday – felt like crap. Completely muffed up ripping the sermon. Didn’t run. Didn’t bike. Didn’t get a nap. Went to bed early.
Nightly dose of self-doubt
So, I’m in the waiting area at the Philly airport with too long of a layover. What I thought was 50 minutes is closer to 2 hours. There are worse things in life, I expect.
It’s gradually sinking in that I’m getting too old to play the cool hipster. Plus, the whole closer to 20 years of time in the Navy than signing that first enlistment paper kind of hit today. The increasing amount of silver in my auburn locks. Mortgages. Kids. Over 10 years married to the same woman. A fondness for station wagons. Seeing fewer midnights. Realizing that I don’t have any games installed on my laptop, and that, in the last 6 months, I’ve used my PlayStation more frequently to do Pilates than to play games.
And, I chose a business trip over Fantasy Baseball draft.
But, the straw in the camel’s back is listening to the South by Southwest (SXSW) Showcasing Artists downloads for this year’s festival. (Remind me to post the torrents – if you’re interested, it’s close to 3 gigs of free, legal MP3s)
Why is this such a hard spot, you ask?
‘Cause I like almost every song I’ve heard since I started listening to it. Gen X is all grown up and holding music and technology festivals that are covered by NPR. Not cool NPR, like Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, but stodgy, pledge drive NPR like Morning Edition.
It’s not surprising – the Joshua Tree turns 20 this year (Pshew, next year, but still…), and the Simpsons have been around almost as long. The folks who were freshmen when I graduated high school all turn 30 this year. The last brothers I pledged are having their 10 year reunion this year.
Don’t misunderstand – I’m still pretty jazzed about Life, the Universe, and Everything. But, I think it’s about time to let go of the idea of myself as a youth.
On the plus side, with the exception of 22 year old me fresh out of Pensacola, I think that Billy-2006 could kick the butt of pretty much any version of me in the last 15 years, running at least.
‘Oooh Rah
The flight out of Norfolk is later tonight (ie, not late, in and of itself, but late in the evening, and I get into Providence around midnight). So I’m sitting here at the Abbey Brewery Resturant, waiting on service, and halfway wondering if I’m actually going to get anything to eat.
Turns out I do get something to eat from a waitress who is exceptionally inconvenienced by me. Or so it appears. Not that I mind – there’s time enough before the flight, and I’m looking out over the runway, watching the sky turn from pale to pink to rose to grey to Navy. And, it’s quiet in the waiting area. All that’s missing is free wifi, but I’ll get that in Philly.
Oh, yeah – running.
Wow, what a run this afternoon. The working group meeting broke up about 4 this afternoon. Not sure if a whole lot was accomplished – there’s a lot more folks involved with dollars and planning at the working group than with actual work. Which I suppose applies to me, too, thinking about it.
I’d packed for the trip with the best of intentions – all the running stuff and my kakhis, planning on recycling my civvies on both flights. Clean skivvies, so it’s not quite so gnasty as you might think. The initial plan was to wake up at 0500 and hit the road. But, the flight out of National was delayed, and I didn’t get to the Navy lodge until after 2300. Half an hour to wind down and realize the DSL line was down in the room, 15 minutes debating getting dressed again to trundle down to the lobby to see if I could get a new power adapter, and next thing you know it’s after midnight.
0500 arrived. I hit the snooze button, knowing I had a late flight, and expecting that the working group would be done early enough to run before heading to the airport. When I stepped outside to head to the meeting, I was greeted with a chill that I’d associate with the wind off of Naraganssett Bay, not the breeze off of Hampton Roads. And I’d left all the cold weather stuff up north…
Meeting wasn’t as bad as all that; and the gym on the Fleet Forces Command section of Norfolk has the finest locker room I’ve ever been in. Headed north out of the compound, and headed down the two-lane past the Marine Forces Command (MARFORCOM, all decked out in red and gold) buildings, and an elementary school.
About 15 minutes in, I cut across a disused baseball field, and ran past an obstacle course tucked in next to an access road, golf course, and highway. Turned left on the access road, and started running parallel to the highway. Painted on the access road were faded words: 1917 – Belleau Wood, 1942 – Corregidor and Bataan, 1944 – Iwo Jima (years are probably wrong, sorry). Overhead, a E-2 Hawkeye banked steeply, flared, and lined up on final.
The afternoon was beautiful, the run was perfect – 24 minutes out, 24 minutes back with some great fartlek running up random mounds on the side of the road and jumping off the top. Don’t have Gmaps Pedometer, so I’m not so sure how far the run was.
Oh, and it turns out that Candi (her real name), the waitress in the airport restaurant, was pleasant and gracious, and the crab cakes were indescribably good.
Off to Philly.
Technorati Tags: norfolk, rbf, running
UPDATE: The route was just over 5.5 miles.
Happy Pi Day!
Hope y’all had your favorite at a little before 2 this afternoon. I had a first – Kentucky Pie, which is apparently pecan pie with a chocolate chip cookie crust. That and a cuppa. Good thing for the afternoon.
Don’t forget to make plans for November 10th, the Julian Pi day.
Hiatus Weekend Wrap-up
In the interest in do-ing instead of watching, I passed on watching NCAA conference playoff basketball this weekend. Yeah, I know. Sacrilege, and all.
See, Jake’s been taking this “Mad Science” class after school, kind of like the Discovery Channel, ‘cept live – they get a science-y toy each week. Two weeks ago – model rockets. Life size and everything. Having been a rocket buff as a boy myself, and with Saturday being one of the beautiful early spring days that should be etched in every child’s mind as perfection itself, so we slapped together some sammiches, and I trundled the kids into the SuperWagon. Told the wife not to miss us too much (She said “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out”), and heighed us ho to the local hobby shop.
Groton’s got probably the last remaining actual, honest-to-god Hobby Shop I’ve seen in a long time. Electric trains in at least three scales (Lionel, HO, and really small), every kind of plastic model you might want with paint of every shade from North Africa kacki to Bright Metallic Cherry, RC planes boats and automobiles, and rocket engines from 1/2A2T’s to ginormous D-14 boosters. We snagged an upgraded launch pad, and a package of my favorite C6-3 engines (plenty big to put a rocket on the edge of vision).
Zipped down to Haley Farms (Bluff Point’s sister park), and found a decent clearing mostly aligned with the ground winds. Set up in the corner to give us a long fetch to recover the rocket. Set up the pad, put in the engine, backed up, counted down, and …
nothing.
10 minutes later, I figured out that I’d put half the batteries in backwards. Managed not to swear.
Counted down. Pushed the button and
WOW! I’d forgotten exactly how cool it is to play with explosives and to shoot things way, way high into the air. The rocket arced majestically into the blue, heading back over the forest to compensate for the wind. At its apogee, the ejection charge popped a little white puff of smoke, the nose cone came off, and the parachute opened just as pretty as a picture.
And I started to panic ’cause I’d forgotten the standard rocket hack of cutting the center out of the parachute. See, model rockets are usually pretty light, and cutting the center out of the parachute means that they come down a little quicker, and don’t blow into the next county.
The rocket floated beautifully, parachute blown up like a pillow, drifting on the wind, shiny and perfect. Floated down on a warm spring breeze as I sprinted across the field, hoping beyond hope that I’d be able to catch the rocket before it touched down. However, it was not to be. After running about 200 yards, I realized that Jake was about to learn lesson #1 of model rocketry – that building rockets beats the snot out of losing them in trees, or in his case, watching it splash down and drift gently out to sea.
Yep – first rocket my son builds, I splash down in 35 degree water on an outgoing tide. D’oh.
Jake wasn’t far behind me, and when I turned to him, he knew something was up. I picked him up and pointed to the rocket sinking under the water, 50 yards offshore.
“Can’t we go get someone with a boat to go get it? Can’t you go wade out to it” Tears welled up in his beautiful blue eyes.
No, I explained, and he asked “Why?” ‘Cause daddy’s got a weakness for buying engines too big for a new field and new rockets. But we learned something, right? “What?” That sometimes things go wrong even when we try to make them right – I’d explained to him about why we set up where we did, etc.
His tears were dry by the time we made it back to the launch pad and his younger brother, and we were making plans to build and launch another kit I’ve got at the house. Live and learn.
I suppose I should feel guiltier than I do, but, MAN, was that one shot cool. I’d forgotten how high they’d go…
Winter Bil-lympics
No, not really. Mostly a photo-journey.
Gave blood Saturday. No guilt trip here. OK, a small one – since this is a light race season in most of the country, why not save up to three lives? Plus, it’s a calorie suck. I’d be more energetic about it, but the phlebotomist completely missed my vein this time. Had to dig about. Yuck. Plus, this may be it for me giving blood – they’re testing for an infection passed along by ticks now. And I cannot count the number of ticks I’ve pulled off of me.
OK, so Sunday – family swim, and I con the wife into driving the kiddos home while I run home (Isn’t it too cold? Naw, sweetie – I’ve got your love to keep me warm.) So here goes:
