Cool find

So, I’m checking out gmaps pedometer this lunchtime to figure out how I’m going to get my 5 for the day, and I catch a glimpse of this:

Battery

Hmmm… Never being one to turn down a chance to go check out something cool, I say “Sure!” Then, I realize that someone’s staring into my cube to figure out what I’m so excited about…

Parked over at Fort Wetherill State Park – man, I love that place. Started running – what a day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the sun beat down on my ears. iPod kept making me happy, legs felt good, and the trip out was fun.

Headed down Battery Drive, and found Conanicut Battery. Wandered around for a while, looked at the WWII era artillery battery observation posts lost in the woods. Pretty stinking cool.

Ran back to the car, and grabbed the snorkel and fins and swam for about 10 minutes. How cool is that? (Pretty chilly, actually, but it was fun to watch the fishies.)

Mouth’s writing checks the body can’t cash

So – Drill this weekend. My marathon buddy Mac (by marathon buddy, I mean another marathoner in the unit, not someone with whom I’ve run marathons) was down from his lab deep in the bowels of Harvard, and Saturday afternoon was the command picinic. So, after muster, I said “Hey, why don’t we go do two laps of the base perimeter – I need to do 7 for the day!”

“Sure, fine, whatever” says Mac.

We head out – the first bit isn’t bad, but as we were finishing up the first lap – well, I dunno. Something just wasn’t clicking. There was no pain, I wasn’t particularly physically tired, the weather was beautiful if a tiny, tiny bit on the warm side…

But, for whatever reason, I just knew that there wasn’t another lap in me. So, I called it quits.

And that was a good feeling. One of the nice things about not having the Marathon Monkey on my back this year is knowing that I can listen to my body and mind, and on days when I just don’t have the miles in my legs, well – I just don’t have the miles in my legs!

Conversely, and looking back over the last couple of months it’s happened more often than not, when I do have the miles in my legs, I feel free to let them rip.

So, even with a dissappointing run on Saturday, I’m pretty thrilled about the whole deal. Mac was understanding – he was up over 30 miles for the week, and was pretty much running for the company. He also, at least a couple of times, mentioned how he didn’t know how folks with wives and kids (he’s still single) fit in time to train for marathons.

So, I’m feeling good about the legs.

What I’m not feeling good about is the belly – it’s been over a week since I’ve seen the light side of 170 lbs. So, I’m going back to tracking food today, which seems to be the only real way I can get myself to eat well.

So, Arrivederci, amici!

Them’s got ears but can’t hear,

Them’s got eyes but can’t see.
Turn your eyes to the Lord of the Skies,
and take this airline plane.
It’ll take you home again

So, I was all ready to get broken up about not having run since Monday, when suddenly the evening opened up – we got back from taking Missy’s mom downtown for ice cream and watching the river roll out to sea, it was 8, and there was just enough sunlight to roll out 5 miles or so before bed.

Wow.

Weather – perfect. Shuffle kicked out a Wilco tune about a mile into the run, and I remembered why they’re the best band to come out of the post ’80s. Shifted the iPod over to do songs just from them, and the miles flew by. Life is good. Nothing like a big bass drum and a slide guitar to make your heels kick up, the heart rate peg, and give you reason to run until the sound of your heart resembles the sound of the drum.

Finally caught up on blogs – What a summer y’all are having. Now to bottle up this energy for the winter.

I’m completely behind on my consumption of Tour de France coverage, largely due to not having OLN in the house this year. Also, I’m still caught up in the World cup fever – Can’t wait for “DOMINGO, DOMINGO, DOMINGO!”. We’ve been watching the Univision coverage of the games (Don’t have ESPN either), and that’s been absolutely the best choice ever. My wife was fluent in Spanish at one point, and I’ve had 3 semesters in college (with a solid C average, thankyouverramuch), so it’s not just watching it with the sound off. I’ve been getting a team roster before watching a game, which gives me an edge on translation, since I can cue on the names.

And, let’s face it – even without speaking the language, sports commentary is pretty easy to follow once you figure out the players’ names. ‘Tain’t rocket science.

But back to the Tour – I’m excited to see Tommy Boonen and Thor Hushvold swapping the jersey in the first week, thrilled to see how Johan Bruyneel is, indeed, a tactical mastermind, and kind of excited to see a race that’s active from Day One, without waiting until the mountains to crank up.

But here’s what I’d like to make the Tour easier for me to follow:
1. A podcast of the same quality as Guardian Unlimited’s World Cup coverage.
2. Video coverage that’s (easily) accessable on a Mac or Linux box.
3. OLN at the house (which would mean we had the will to subscribe to basic cable, which we don’t, which is, overall a good thing)
4. A new MacBook with the chops to handle video podcasts in iTunes (plus Windows via Parallels)
5. A Fullbright Fellowship to take the family to Europe to study the UCI pro tour (Hey, if we’re dreaming)

The MacBook will probably happen this fall – I’ve been saving my pennies despite us putting a new roof on the house, and planning to get me a new car (complete with a useable back seat for the kids and 25% better mileage than my venerable Subaru in the summer.

The other thing that is giving me somewhat waning interest in the tour has been my lack of time on the road bike this year. Largely, that’s by choice – I am committed to becoming a runner first and foremost this summer, and a large part of that is getting my weight under control. Step by step. I can’t say I’ve missed the bike as much as I thought I would when I decided to skip the Tri season, but large part of that is just due to prioritizing work and family over recreation, but not wanting to completely fall off the rec wagon.

So – Pshew! It’s a great time to be a runner. The song’s Wilco, obviously, from Kicking Television among other albums. Check it out.

Ring a ding!

As in let freedom…

Hey, hello, and Howdy! Life has been good at the Jankowski ranch up here in the wilds of Eastern Connecticut! So good, in fact, that I’ve been neglecting the blog, and, more importantly, the blogs of all of you. I’d like to blame work, but let’s not kid ourselves – the real fault lies with the absolutely, completely beautiful weather we’ve been having. I’m pecking out this little missive sitting on the deck waiting for Missy’s world-famous banana muffins to come out of the oven, having gotten up “early” (“early” being defined as “before the rest of the house, but clearly not before 0600”, as opposed to “at the crack of dawn”, which, as we all know, is defined as “so gawdaful late at night that the clock is confused and showing afternoon hours”) to take the newly re-finished kayak for a spin on the Mystic River.

Just a tip – as cool as the wooden kayaks look, I’m kind of wishing I’d sprung for a decent rotomolded one. Sure, it wouldn’t look as cool, and they’ve got issues of their own, but the cold hard fact of the matter is that for the plastic ‘yaks, maintenance consists of giving them a vigorous hosing out every couple of weeks, instead of mucking about with varnish and epoxy, and winding up on a rock isn’t excruciating for the whole rest of the paddle while you try to decide if you just scraped the varnish or if you actually broke some fiberglass (the thought that you’ve actually pierced the wood just doesn’t occur, as that requires MAJOR surgery to fix).

But that aside, it was great to have the boat back out on the water. I’d forgotten exactly how swift this one feels – within a couple of paddle strokes I was up at hull speed, which, for a 17’ boat isn’t anything to sneeze at. Did about 4 miles on the water – glass smooth, watching the cyclists and runners coming down River Road, which was a nice change in Point of View.

Oh, speaking of that – Sunday? While Nate took his nap, Jake and I headed down to River Road. I convinced him that he could ride his bike while I ran. He had doubts when I said that we were going to go at least 5 miles (it’s really, really flat), so I said “Hey, Jake – if you can make it for 20 minutes out, we’ll turn around and head back”. OK, says he. So, we go, and at 20 minutes, he begs to keep going until we get downtown. Rock on.

Holy Crap!

Wow. So, I decide to take a couple of days to actually do stuff, and look what I miss: Doping Scandal Rocks Tour de France:

Ullrich, at age 32 nearing the end of his career, said he was “absolutely shocked.”

“I could cry going home in such good shape,” he said. “I need a few days for myself and then I’ll try to prove my innocence with the help of my lawyer. And I’ll go on fighting.”

Holy crap, indeed. Wow. Ullrich gone, Basso gone, Vinko gone…

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Wow

Warren’s comment is so good, it needs to be reprinted in its entirety:

We’re creatures of comfort. We usually enter into activities with a reasonable expectation of completion, and put in a reasonable, safe level of effort. Not that we don’t work hard in our relationships, our work, and mowing the lawn; it’s just that if we don’t do everything we feel we could, we have some confidence that amends can be made, tomorrow.

Some people walk up and run a marathon with the calm knowledge that their existing athleticism will carry them through to the end. For them, there’s no life-changing moment. They never doubted, they put in a reasonable effort, they accomplished.

Some people, though, never really know for sure if they can complete a marathon, until they do so. Some sign up at the last minute, and limp across the finish line, but again, their lives don’t change. Many, though, approach the very real possibility of failure by putting extraordinary effort into training. For these people, I will believe that they may experience a life change. While, symbolically, this comes at the finish line, in reality the life change happens somewhere before that.

Good stuff.

As if to make my point

Charles Schultz speaks from beyond the grave:

Mark was right in his comment last night – for some people the marathon is life changing. I’d actually flagged the article ’cause I thought it was brilliant; somehow I’d skipped over “life changing”, and that just set me off. Sorry.

I’ve been running – almost 7 miles yesterday. New Haven is only 9 weeks or so away!

Sometimes the bear gets you, Sometimes you get the bear

Mark’s got a post up (yeah, I’m a week late with this) about Discovering the bear within:

7-The marathon comes. You finish. And finishing is a life changing moment that makes “I think I can” a thought of the past.
8-But there is more to prove. Finishing is no longer enough. You are full of “I know I can. I know I can do it faster. I know can I do it longer”. You are one buff bear.

Now, this is all well and good, but let’s face it: For some of us, finishing the marathon isn’t a life-changing moment, any more than graduating from high school, graduating from college, etc was.

Not to belittle the point – it’s a darn select group of people who actually finish a single marathon in their life, let alone run regularly, and I don’t mean to diminish that. But, having worked my butt off for one too many “life changing accomplishments”, let’s be honest: there aren’t any.

Finishing a marathon isn’t going to improve your relationship with your spouse. It’s not going to get you a promotion at the office. It’s not going to magically let you eat eight pounds of peanut brittle every day without gaining weight. It’s not going to do anything, by itself, to substantively change your life.

Finishing a marathon is just that – 26.2 miles, on your feet. Nothing more, nothing less.

Well, scratch that – finishing a marathon is another tool in your box, another arrow in your quiver. Finishing a marathon is proof positive that you can set and achieve big goals; that you can plan and execute a giant project. These are accomplishments; these are life skills that you’ve earned.

26.2 is but one way to show that you’ve got the skills, and an ephemeral one at that. Look at the string of DNFs, injuries, and dropouts we’ve see in in the RBF – does not getting to the finish really take away some of the bearness?

Again, sorry for the rant. Scratch out the “life changing moment” bit and the piece is beautiful. But, given the wide range of things that can actually change lives, finishing any given race isn’t one of them.

Go run. Get your life improved. Set and meet goals. But don’t count on a chorus of angels or a vision when you cross the finish line at 26.2. It won’t happen.

Change your own life.

Questions I wish I’d asked

Sorry, one more on this experience.

I didn’t hit *1 to try to ask a question. If you check the first page of notes I posted on Flickr, you’ll see that most of the questions I wanted to ask got answered.

Of the questions I’d scrawled, the biggest one that I wish had gotten treatment was the doping issue.

The Armstrong/Dick Pound exchanges have been fascinating, especially as independent investigators cleared Lance, but as the Andrieus have new allegations about Armstrong’s pre-cancer training. Couple that with the ex-Liberty Seguros/Wurth scandal and the Spanish doping investigations, lingering doubts about Tyler Hamilton’s chimera, and baseball, and Drugs is one of the biggest stories waiting to be told about cycling and other sports.

I also would have been interested to talk to the Discovery Channel representative to see if they were planning podcasts or vodcasts of the Tour this year, and to see if my invite was an effort to expand into the “new media.”

OK, enough of this. Hope everyone has a great weekend…