Choppy Seas

It’s my last weekend before my trip. I’m pretty anxious, to be perfectly honest. My preparation is going well, I’d say. So far, I’ve packed most of the clothes I need. I have to work on getting my running clothes and my carry-on packed. That’s about it… It’s pretty sad how you can basically pack all of your life into a few suitcases.

Last night was entertaining. I picked up Will in town and we headed over to Addy’s house. What was supposed to be a big party turned out to really just be a few of us sitting around and watching TV. The good news was that Brandon and Gwen stopped by. It was great to see them, especially since Gwen leaves for school today. Those were just two more people that I wanted to see before I left. All in all, it was a pretty laid back night. It was good to chill with William as well. We had grown apart a lot in the last school year, but I’m glad it’s still chill when we hang out. He’s a good kid.

Today was pretty low-key. I cleaned up at Addy’s and then came home, did some errands, and had some lunch. So far, this afternoon, I’ve been cleaning my room some more and running. I had been thinking about doing a time trial this weekend and so I thought I might as well do it today. I had a few goals and I don’t know how many of them I’m really going to be able to tackle in the next few days. The first was to run under 4:30 for the mile (previous best of 4:39), also under 17:00 for 5k (current best 17:31). So, today I warmed up with a few really easy miles (8:00 mile pace) and headed over to the track. I decided to go for the mile today and then maybe the 5k on Sunday or Monday, if I have time. I did a few striders and then toed off. I ran a pretty even pace, but was behind from the beginning. I was pretty disappointed with my time at the end (4:42) and so I decided to just count it as an interval and jog it off and run an 800m. Again, it also felt pretty slow; I didn’t get the exact time but I think it was around 2:20.

So, it looks like that is one goal I’m going to have to wait three months to try again. I really doubt I’m going to do any fast running in Quito at 10,000 feet above sea level. But hey, this gives me something to look forward to; I’ve never run indoor track and here’s a chance to make my mark.

Still, I need to remind myself sometimes to have perspective. Four months ago, I was on crutches. Three months ago, I could run no longer than five minutes. I guess I’m being a little hard on myself.

Back to Normal

I hate to say it, but I think I’ve started to out-grow Six Flags. It’s incredibly depressing to come to the realization that something that used to bring you unconditional joy and happiness now has little effect on you. I mean, it happens all the time as a kid; toys fade in and out of popularity. Every week I had a new favorite movie as a child. Somehow, it feels different now. I guess I thought that I was relatively grown up when amusement parks and roller coasters used to really turn my crank. It’s depressing to know that I’m so little like the person that I was not so long ago.

Or is it not? Maybe it’s a good thing that I’ve find other passions. I guess that’s the real crux of the matter: have I replaced the old toys that I don’t like to play with anymore, or is there simply a big hole in my happiness quotient?

Or, just as likely, I was just still not feeling 100% since things with Annie were on the fringe. Maybe Six Flags is still awesome any other day…

Anyways, so that was most of my Tuesday. Yesterday was actually a pretty big day, centering mostly around my run. I had planned to do my longest run of the summer (a WHOPPING 8 miles…) and I had mapped out a really nice route. Starting at 9-acre-corner, I ran what began as part of my normal bike loop. I set out at about 1:00pm, which was probably not too wise because there was very little shade and it was quite hot. The first two miles go relatively flat down Concord Road through the Nashawtuc Country Club. It’s an easy start, but I actually ran it pretty poorly, strategically, by going out too fast. I aimed to run around 7:00 pace, and ran the first two miles in 13:20, so I was a little worried that I would hurt later on. After bearing left at pantry road, Concord Rd. takes a relatively steep uphill for about a mile. I began to struggle a bit, but was able to make it to the turn onto Morse Road.

This is one of my favorite parts of this loop. Whenever I’m on my bike, the most tiring parts of my rides are the uphills. To try and distract myself, I try and think of clever little names for each hill while I’m riding up them. The section of the loop starting at Morse Road I call “The Back Hills” (an inside joke for anyone who has run Van Cortland Park). I was feeling a little better once I turned onto Morse but immediately started to ache as I approached the first of the Back Hills: Horse Shit Hill. Horse Shit Hill is a very steep hill which also happens to be next to a farm (hence the name). Runners or bikers are treated to the delightful aroma as they run/ride past. On this specific run, I had the dual joy of also being treated to air filled with grass pollen and dust as the grounds crew was out in full force on their John Deer’s.

After HSH, there’s a long, gradual descent. I was able to cruise pretty comfortably for a few minutes and regain some strength; also, shade was an added bonus. Then, yet another hill, nearly as long as the first before turning onto Marlboro Road. Marlboro brings you back to Haynes which brings you to Pantry, where you are faced with the biggest hill yet. Unfortunately, I don’t have a clever name and usually just call it Pantry Hill… Sorry.

Finally, I turned right at the top of Pantry at 117 and headed back towards 9-acre-corner. I had never actually run or biked on this section of road (I usually extend the loop in the other direction), so I didn’t really no what to expect. It turned out to be a little trafficy, but actually quite pretty. There was very little shade, though, so I was really struggling by the end.

Overall, I ended up doing okay. It was a little depressing to know that my recovery runs were this long 8 months ago, but eh. I think my pace averaged out to around 6:55 with a pretty quick last mile. I’m not too disappointed with that given the hills.

The rest of the day was spent making great progress on my packing pile. Up until now, packing had simply been a theological endeavor. However, with the realization that I had all of three or four days left, it was time to get down to business. Now, most of my belongings are strewn about on my brother’s floor and bed. Oh goodness.

Annie’s off on her rock climbing orientation trip, which means I can’t talk to her for a few days. Bummer. If all goes well I might head out to Amherst this weekend before I leave. We shall see.

Today has been relatively uneventful. I went to Skid School this morning, which is a driving course that teaches you all the important stuff that they don’t teach you in drivers ed (how to handle a skidding car correctly, braking and swerving, etc.). It was all right, but I was pretty pissed off at having to get up at 6:00 to get to Andover. Oh well.

The rest of the day, I did some core (no run today), upper body, and went and had a nice chat with Liz Bedell. I ran some errands and now I’m about to eat dinner. I think a party is on the menu for tonight. I’m not sure if it will be an overnight or not, depends how tired I am and how the night unfolds. I also am still thinking about doing a time trial this weekend, so I don’t want to be too, too sleep deprived. I’ll let you know how it goes.

The Nigerian Prince Scam

My mother has never been great with technology. Yet, tonight, she managed to surpass my wildest expectations. While I was in the midst of a relatively important phone call (which I may get to later), I got a frantic call from my father from downstairs yelling something about anti-virus on my machines, etc. Anyways, it turned out my mother had managed to download and run some sort of Trojan program which had embedded itself in her windows system folder. Lovely. At least she didn’t send her bank account information to a prince in Zimbabwe. Sorry, Mom. It was too good a story to pass up.

Anyways, so I’ve been spending the past 40 minutes trying to make sure all our computers have anti-virus software and trying to get rid of this little bugger on my mom’s computer. Not exactly how I pictured the evening unfolding.

I actually have a lot about which I’d like to write, but it’s pretty late and I’m pretty tired, so we’ll see how far I get. I woke up relatively early this morning, around 6:30, to go for a run. I hate morning runs. I can never figure out how to time the nutrition and hydration. I always either eat too much too close to when I run and feel bloated and nauseated or I don’t eat enough and feel fatigued really quickly. Today, I basically rolled out of bed, popped a glucose tab, and hit the road.

I actually felt surprisingly decent for an early-morning run. It was pretty chilly and my pace wasn’t hard enough to warm me up right away, so I eased into it. I ran the first three miles pretty slow (around 6:45-6:50) and picked up for the last two, with the last mile almost entirely uphill. My last two splits were 6:12 and 6:15, I believe.

After the run, Addy and I had planned to go to Six Flags New England for the day, so I showered and went to pick her up. We made a pit-stop at Dunkin Donuts for some breakfast and then began the long drive out to Agawam.

Driving west on I-90 reminds me of how much of our country is undeveloped land. There are so many trees! I mean, we did pass through the bustling metropolises of Worcester and Springfield, but other than that, it’s pretty quiet scenery.

I’m going to have to dub this “To Be Continued,” because I’m far too tired to finish now.

Comparing Athletes: The Pyramid Theory of Sports

Thanks to my mother who found an interesting article on sports and demographics, I can finally try and articulate what has been bothering me about the recent Olympics hullabaloo regarding swimmer Michael Phelps. The article talks about a theory of “sports pyramids, where a sport like equestrian or the steeple chase in running has a very narrow base (not many people try it as children). This is in opposition to a sport like soccer or running where an enormous part of the world has tried their luck with said games.

“The pyramid in question is demographic. The base represents the number of people who have ever tried the sport, usually as children, while at the peak, naturally, stand the top achievers. The broader the pyramid base, the greater the athletes at the top, all other things being equal.”

The basic idea is that in a sport like soccer, where so many people have tried it, it’s a lot harder to become the best because there is simply more competition. Competitive swimming and diving and other less popular sports have a more narrow base of people who try them seriously, and thus have an easier time becoming elite in those arenas.

And so, the author seems to agree with my point that trying to compare Olympic athletes from different sports is a matter of apples and orangutans. The only person who can really claim to be the greatest athlete in the world right now is Brian Clay.

Closing Ceremonies

The end of an era. It’s been a difficult six months in terms of transitions. Today was not what I expected. I think that no matter how well you try and prepare for a difficult transition, there’s no way to really predict how it will turn out.

I woke up mad early (for me). I got to Anna’s by 6:20am and we headed out to run. Most of the run was silent. We just sort of zoned out. I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering, from thinking about the events of the next few hours. Every once in a while, my eyes would begin to sting and then I’d just try and focus on the run again.

We had an awkward breakfast with her family and tried to get some time to talk alone. There were only a few tears. We went outside to finish packing up her car and I gave her a letter and my Berklee sweat shirt. It was pretty hard. The actual goodbye wasn’t quite as bad. It was so sudden that neither of us really had time to get upset.

The drive home was probably the hardest part of the day. In all honesty, I probably should have pulled over and cooled off a bit, but oh well, I made it home safe. I spent a few hours reading through the journal that she gave me and then got out of my room and started to think about the rest of the day.

My parents wanted me to head into town to run some errands, so as I was driving I gave Duncan a call to see what he was up to. He said nothing, so I drove to his house. We hit up Cumbie’s and then walked around the CA campus for a while, trying to see if there was anyone there or anything open. Alas, there was not, so we just got my Dad’s mail and headed back to my house. We chilled there and had some lunch with my parents before heading off to his Dad’s house.

We spent most of the afternoon playing rock band and relaxing. It was good to just chill and get distracted. I was actually in a surprisingly good mood most of the afternoon. My parents were a little bitchy when they were trying to figure out evening plans, but no big deal. I dropped Duncan off and headed home for some dinner.

The evening has been pretty relaxed. My parents went out for a bit after dinner and I decided to go for a brief run. I’ve been finding that over the past few days, my emotions have been determining my runs more than my brain. I’m not too upset with this because I’ve had a few pretty quick runs in the past few days, but I feel like it could be a dangerous habit to get into. I don’t want to HAVE to run a fast pace just because I’m upset. I want to be able to run fast when it’s good for my training, not when it’s good for my emotions.

Nonetheless, emotions or not, I felt pretty quick today. After running a 30 second 5k PR yesterday, I went out today with no warmup and ran a 4:39 mile. Not too shabby if I do say so m’self.

And now, here I am: watching the closing ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics. I may not have been there, but I’ve had my own Olympic tasks over the past year to have to complete, vanquish, overcome. And so, these closing ceremonies come at a coincidental time. As I watch the spectacular event that is the closing of the Olympics, I think back to this morning and think about the awkward rushed goodbye. I’ve watched two entirely opposite closing ceremonies today.

Naturally, I’m drained.

Look Out, Haile!

I hate to say it, but I think Haile might be in trouble. After watching the Olympic marathon, I am no longer convinced that Haile Gebrselassie, the current world record holder, is the greatest distance runner alive.


Sammy Wanjiru of Kenya won the race in a time of 2:06:32, smashing the 24 year old Olympic marathon record by nearly 3 minutes. The most impressive part of this race was not his time (2:06 is no small feat, but at the same time nothing to get too excited about), but the conditions in which he won the race. The temperature by the middle of the race was consistently in the mid to upper 80s and the humidity was over 50%.

For anybody who has ever run in the heat, you will no how difficult this is. Heat raises the heart-rate, making the runner much less efficient. In addition to this, the high humidity makes it more difficult (sometimes impossible) for sweat to evaporate.

Brad Hudson, coach of US Olympian Dathan Ritzenhein (2:11:59, 9th place) has said that Ritz was in shape to run 2:07, which makes one wonder if Wanjiru could run 2:06, what could he run in ideal conditions? 2:04? 2:03? Who knows?!

All of the US marathon team ran very respectable races: Ritz finishing first for the US in 9th place (2:11:59), Ryan Hall finishing 10th (2:12:33), and Brian Sell finishing 22nd in a solid time of 2:16:07. Go team!

I’d like to end with a note that Haile still has my respect as the greatest marathoner of all time (so far), and at the very least my favorite.

Easy Day

I just got back from my “easy run.” It’s funny how often times the run that I think I’m about to have when I step out the door is nothing like the run I’m on five minutes later. I had planned to run with Annie, which would make it a very relaxed-pace run, but she decided not to come, so I went off on my own. I was in a pretty pissed off mood (I’ll get more to that later), so I guess I let my anger get to my head, or actually my legs as was the case here. I was supposed to do about three miles easy, I ended up basically doing a 5k time trial by myself. I ran the first mile (downhill) around 5:30. At the point, I decided to see how long I could hold it. My second mile was a little slow, closer to 5:40, and I closed around 5:35-5:38ish. I felt pretty comfortable, given that it was a hilly course and I was in my training shoes. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get a well recorded time on a real course before I leave.

I was supposed to spend the day with Annie, but it didn’t really work out that way. We went to Kennedy’s pond this morning, which was fun, a little buggy, but fun. After that we headed to Friendly’s in Acton and got some lunch before going back to her house. We just sort of flooped at her house for a while, trying to figure out the afternoon. We knew that at some point, she and her family had to get to EMS or REI to pick up a camping backpack for Annie before she left. So she and her family went to do that.

So, I head out. I had been thinking about seeing Paxton again before he left, but he was busy, so I just went to the bank and came home. I figured they wouldn’t be more than an hour and a half (25 minute drive each way, 40 minutes in the store?), so I sat down to watch Tropic Thunder. Suddenly, Tropic Thunder was over and there was not a word from her. Eventually, she called me back and let me know that they were still in the store and I ought to run because she wasn’t feeling well.

All in all, it took about four hours out of our last day together. I it just sucks that this keeps happening. Anyways, she just called and said she’s home, so I’m going to go to her house for dinner and Olympic Marathon.

Go Ryan, Dathan, and Sell!

Upping the Anti

Well, it’s technically Saturday, but I feel inclined to try and update daily so here we are again.

Today was at least a break from the norm. I spent most of the morning sleeping and then sitting around and waiting for Annie. She picked me up and we went to her house for a bit before driving to Walden. One of my goals from before was to swim across Walden Pond, and today was supposedly my attempt at doing that. After my swim across Kennedy’s Pond last week with David, I felt pretty confident in my ability, so I wasn’t too nervous.

Naturally, with my confidence raised, I decided to up the anti a bit. I mapped out a triangular route on map-my-run that would cover a mile of water. I figured it was the natural next milestone after simply swimming across.

Personally, being a relatively skinny guy, for me the hardest part about swimming is getting in the water. I’ve always hated cold water, so unless it’s a really hot day or I’m already really overheated from running, generally I’m a toe-dipping kind of person. Maybe a wader at best. So, today, the most arduous part of the swim was just getting myself submerged. Once I had dunked myself, Annie and I set out on our roughly half mile swim across the pond. It was pretty relaxed once we got going, not too cold, not too stressful. It was a very conversational pace.

We got to the other side of the pond, but Annie’s hipflexor was still bugging her and she didn’t want me to finish the swim alone, so we decided to just walk back to our stuff. It wasn’t too strenuous of a workout and at least I can say that I did it.

We toweled off and drove into Lexington center because she needed to pick up some form from her doctor. I hadn’t had lunch yet, so we grabbed some pizza at Bertucci’s and then got her stuff. She had to fax it to Amherst, but didn’t have a fax machine so we headed back to my house to do that (good thing my mom was there, since it turns out I have basically no idea how to use a fax machine, let alone understand the complex underlying fax-etiquette). Annie left, but I was hoping I’d get to see her later. She had plans to hang out with her sister and I wanted to see Paxton anyways since he was leaving on Sunday.

I ate dinner with my mother and then drove over to Pax’s. I was planning on spending the night but we ended up both being mad tired, so I headed home after a few hours. Unfortunately, things with Anna fell through and I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see her again. Not that it’s her fault, it’s just an unfortunate trend that seems to keep coming up… Bummer.

And so, I’ve been sitting around and watching some Olympics that were on this evening for the past hour or so. The women’s 5000 meters was supposed to be on, but it seems that NBC has flaked out on us again and just lied.

Tomorrow is my last day with Annie. I don’t know how I feel about that. Oh well, if I don’t acknowledge it, it won’t happen, right?

Right.

The Forgotten Story

With all the buzz about Usain Bolt, I think that the world and media is greatly overlooking one of the biggest Olympic accomplishments in track and field. Who could I be talking about? Why no one of course except Ethiopia's Haile Gebrselassie.


Haile, a 35 year old marathoner, is not only a decade or so the senior of most of the fellow 10,000 meter runners against whom he competed, but also hasn't raced a 10,000 in quite some time. In fact, the Ethiopian olympic committee doubted his ability enough to make him compete in a time trial before allowing him to compete on the Olympic 10,000 team.

So, what is it that makes Haile so impressive? Well, Haile ran 27:06, which is 4:21/mile pace. Haile's marathon pace is around 4:44/mile, almost thirty seconds slower. 35 year old Haile finished 6th in a deep field, but it didn't seem like he was particularly upset with is placement. Haile went out and paced fellow countryman Kenenisa to a perfect victory and finished with his trademark smile.

Personally, I'm tired of seeing Olympic athletes crying over their silver medals. Haile was thrilled just to be there and I wish I saw more of that.

Keepin On

I awoke to an empty house this morning, a feeling I’m not quite used to. Still in bed, I called Annie and actually woke her up (wow, record books take note). My day wasn’t too exciting. Annie and I headed to Burlington to run some last minute college errands for her and then hit up Chili’s for lunch.

In the afternoon, we hung around her house and then headed to Great Brook with her mom to run. Annie and I ran together for the first half mile or so and then she pointed me on my way (I’m not too familiar with the Great Brook trails). I ended up only getting lost for a few seconds; I was quite proud of myself. The run overall felt a little sluggish. This could be due to the less than 24 hour time difference between my last night’s run, or any other thousand factors. Anyways, my first few miles were on a VERY rocky and root-y trail and so were all around 7:30 pace. As soon as I could, I got off that trail and did a few loops of the CA cross country course. I picked up the pace here, averaging closer to 6:45 pace for the last few miles. I wasn’t trying to push the pace, though, so I’m not too upset with the run.

I had a lot of weird aches and pains in my legs today. I’m glad tomorrow is my legs-off day. It started out with a surprisingly intense outside-left calve pain. It was a sharp, shooting pain that made it almost impossible to put weight on my left foot. This was quite worrisome. However, it seemed the kind of tweak that I could just walk off and stretch/massage out. Later, my same right hamstring was still a little sensitive (though much better, even now after running, than before), and during my run, my left hip/upper IT was giving me some grief. Goodness gracious!

So, I still have a mile time and a 5k time that I want to run before I leave. I don’t know if it’s gonna happen, but I guess we’ll see.

Catch Up

I’m almost caught up, so let me start with yesterday.

I woke up relatively early, but it was kind of nice actually. Annie came over while I was still half asleep and we just got to snuggle and talk for a while. Quite the nice way to start the day. Unfortunately, things were mostly downhill from there. We headed to her house after eating some breakfast and just hung out for a while. For some reason, we’ve been getting really tense with one another over the last few days. I think that the fact that she leaves so soon makes us both nervous. With so much uncertainty about where our relationship will go and what roles we will play in one another’s lives, it’s hard to focus on enjoying this time.

Anyways, she went out to lunch with Aaron Freedman and I ended up staying at her house and finishing up the painting in her dad’s office. When she got back we just at some lunch together and talked a bit more. Again, though, it was pretty tense and not really happy talking… Oh well.

After a few hours, she had to go pick up her dad and I stayed home to start the cleanup of the paint room. It also turned out that she was meeting Fannie Watkinson at the train station so they could go run together. So, I just sort of puttered around in the paint room for a while. Annie and Fannie came home around the same time that her mom and Emily got home from Maine. Everyone was pretty pooped and hungry, so the three of us, me and (F)annie, went to get take out from Maynard. Fannie’s a good kid; it was nice to see her.

After dinner I headed home and still had to run. My lower butt/upper hamstring/groin pain on my right side had died down a bit, but was definitely still there, so I decided to take it really conservatively. I didn’t leave the house until 10:00 or so. Night running is really fun sometimes. I love running in my neighborhood at night, for example. There are barely any cars to worry about and the streets are nice enough that you don’t have to worry about your footing. Anyways, I had told myself I would try and put in about 3 miles at whatever pace felt comfortable. I warmed up for the first half mile or so and was feeling pretty smooth and comfortable, so I picked it up a bit. I ended up feeling really great after a mile or so, and so I decided to do a longer loop that included a nice big hill in the middle. Overall, I ended up averaging around 6:35 pace, which was much quicker than I thought I would run, given how poorly I was feeling earlier.

I came home and watched the men's 1500 meter Olympic final and hit the sack.

Martha's Vineyard Part III: Return to the Real

I woke up naturally on Monday morning around 8:30am and was jolted out of my hypnopompic state when I pushed open the half-open bathroom door to find Duncan naked and taking a shit: a wonderful start to my morning. I was planning on running but decided against it when I awoke with some pretty alarming right hamstring pain.

I packed up all my stuff pretty quickly and bid adieu to David, Ginny, and Jesse. Duncan and I drove and ferried over to Oak Bluffs for some breakfast before I had to catch my ferry. We grabbed some apple fritters from a little bakery which are apparently the hot item for people who know their shit. We headed over to the ferry port and just sat around and talked for a while. We thought the ferry was coming in at 11:15, but when we looked at my ticket it said 11:45. Oops! Oh well. We had a good talk and then I boarded my vessel and headed for Quonset Point, RI.

The ferry ride was nice again. A little bit choppier than on the way there. Still, I got a lot of reading done on the boat and was even able to nap a bit. My mom picked me up and we drove home via Concord center to run some errands.

I spent most of the afternoon relaxing, reading, watching Olympics that had been taped from the weekend, and cleaning. Anna was supposed to be back around the same time as me, but it turned out she was going to take a lot longer coming coming home.

After dinner at home, I went over to Addy’s for a while. She had just gotten back from being a counselor at her strange hippie camp and had many interesting stories. We walked around for a while and just talked. I’m glad that we can actually just be amiable with one another now. Annie called around 9:30 and so I took her out for a bit. We drove around and were both seeming kind of miserable. It seemed that this week was set to be a disaster. Oh dear.

Anyways, things ended on a better note and so it was okay. I ended up not running at all because I didn’t want to aggravate whatever it was that was bugging me. I spent a lot of the day being pissed off, which I try to avoid, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. That’s all for now.

Martha's Vineyard Part II: Lazy Sunday

I awoke in the morning far earlier than I had hoped. Duncan was out of bed by 9:00 and so I had my second night in a row of very little sleep. After tossing in bed for 45 minutes or so, I decided it wasn’t worth it to try and stay asleep and got out of bed. We spent an hour or so lazing around the house and just relaxing. One of the nicest parts about this trip was how low-key everything was. With my family on vacation, everything has to be planned out, meetings have to be held; it seems like sometimes vacations with my family are more stressful than being at home. But anyways, so we just sat around for a while and then I headed out to do my run.

I’ve always had this image of running with a dog at my side. It just seems so natural: man’s best friend. This was the first time that I went running with a dog that wasn’t chasing me (you have NO idea how many times I have put out a 30 second 200m to escape from the jaws of Cujo). Jesse and I went out for a 4 mile fartlek on the dirt road that led to Duncan’s house in the heat of the late morning. The first mile was a little quick to be my easy mile (I was trying to alternate 7:00 and 5:30), running about 6:30. My first repeat was a little rough. First of all, it was really hot, so my heart-rate was already through the roof. The fact that I ran the first mile too quick also hurt a bit, but it was ok. My third mile was a lot more like I had meant the first one to be. I ran it right around 7:00 and thus felt solid on my last mile. Duncan joined me for a half mile cool-down; Jesse had already deserted me.

I did some PT and core circuits after I came in and hydrated a bit. Then Duncan, David, and I decided to drive/ferry over to Martha’s Vineyard proper for some lunch. By this time, I had gotten slightly more used to the whole “car being a few inches away from the water” idea and was only mildly clutching the door-handle. We got some greasy fried food and ice cream and sat in a quiet little park that was hidden from the main hubbub of Edgartown. Martha’s Vineyard proper, or at least the parts of Edgartown that we walked through, kind of bugged me. For the most part it was filled with obnoxious-looking, wallet-waving, white people in polo shirts tucked into their plaid shorts. It was the opposite of what I had seen on Chappy and exactly what I was afraid of.

Anyways, we had a few errands to run afterwards, so the three of us walked around the uber-touristy part of Edgartown and then drove to the grocery store. From there, we drove, ferried, and drove back over to Chappy where we had a bit more relaxation time. It was at this point that we realized that Duncan’s hand was still quite swollen from his bee-sting, which was then 24 hours old, which seemed odd. So, he took two benadryll, hoping that would reduce his reaction. He seemed to be feeling better, though, so we decided to head to the beach for a swim.

Now, usually getting to the beach is a walk or a short drive or bike ride, but here it was actually a sail away. So we had to set up Duncan’s Sunfish (a small one or two man sailboat) to get across the bay and to the beach on the other side. Also, Duncan had decided that we would need music, so we had a backpack with an ipod, speakers, and his cell phone in it (though all in sealed plastic bags). The sail over was relatively uneventful. It was actually really nice to be out on the water; I almost understand the appeal of it. There were only a few moments I thought that I was going to die, but mostly it was calm because we didn’t have to turn.

We sailed to one side of a very narrow strip of land that separated our cove from the ocean. So, we tied up the boat and walked a few minutes over the dunes to the sprawling ocean. There is something truly magical and indescribably about the pure vastness of the ocean. I hate to get sappy in what I try to keep a relatively down to Earth journal, but the ocean is really something. For a good while, we just lied on the beach listening to Herbie Hancock’s “The Piano” and enjoying the solitude and beauty. Eventually, though, we both got restless and decided to dig a big hole. Why is digging a hole at the beach so much fun? I honestly could not tell you. All I know is that there is something in everyone’s deep subconscious that sees sand and wants to dig a really deep hole. And what’s more, usually once that hole is dug, somebody has to crawl in and then buried in it. That person was unlucky enough to be me. As I was just about up to my chin in sand I realized that we had dug our hole in a huge nest of some sort of larvae of shrimp or fiddler crabs which were popping out of holes everywhere and biting me. I then sprinted into the surprisingly steeply deepening ocean.

With the discovery of creepy-crawlies, we traversed the dunes once again and returned to our boat. Much to our dismay, the wind had changed such that we now had to sail a diagonal away from our house and then cut back along the shore (I don’t really understand sailing, don’t ask me…). It started out ok, but the wind was gusty, which meant that the pressure on the sail would change from moment to moment. This meant that one second, I would have to lean back as far as I could to keep from capsizing, and the next moment I would almost fall out of the boat because it was so flat. Also, to make matters worse, on this trip, Duncan had entrusted me with the backpack full of electronics. It was possibly the most terrifying thirty minutes of my life.

But we made it (despite my very nearly falling out of the boat with the electronics). I have never been so happy to be on land once again, even rocky and slippery land.

We walked back up to his house where everyone was quite lethargic. Duncan’s benadryll was really doing a number on his energy, so he ended up taking a nap for a few hours, along with his dad. I sat for a while and relaxed with Jesse and read a bunch. It was very calm. Once people started waking up (I literally had to threaten Duncan with cold water to get him out of bed), we made some dinner and played some boggle. Afterwards, Duncan, David and I drove down to the ferry and walked into Edgartown for some ice cream.

When we got home, we worked a bit on the puzzle but mostly just sat around and talked. We called it a night relatively early after a pretty late night before. All in all, it was one of the calmest and low-key days I’ve had in a while. I wouldn’t want to make a routine of it, but damn did it feel nice for once.

Martha's Vineyard Part 1: Long Day

I spent the weekend in Martha’s Vineyard with Duncan and his family. Being a pretty well-off white suburbanite, I realized I was actually quite surprised to have never been there. A few notes before I begin: I’m going to split this post into a few posts (day by day) and also, I’m going to try to intersperse some pictures since I just got a camera! I’ll start with Saturday.

I woke up long before I usually do (around 5:00am) after staying up late with David and watching Olympics the night before. My parents were heading to Newport for the day, so they were able to give me a ride to the ferry. I ended up being about half and hour early and so I got a nice long bench to sleep on. The ferry ride itself was nice. I hadn’t been on a boat in a long time, if ever, and so I was a little nervous about getting sea-sick. Nevertheless, babies don’t sleep as well as I did. To me, the rocking of the boat was like being an infant in a crib and being rocked to sleep. It was serene.

I arrived in Oak Bluffs, Martha’s Vineyard, where I was supposed to meet up with Duncan. However, not realizing that I was on a different ferry than he takes, it took us a few minutes to realize we were in different spots. We headed over to a pastry shop where we met up with Karen, who it turned out was staying with Duncan too. After a little breakfast, we all piled into Duncan’s land cruiser and drove off to run some errands and then head to his house. The Forbes’ house is actually on Chappaquiddick, a small island right next to Martha’s Vineyard. The interesting thing about this island is that there’s no bridge, so the only way to get there is to take a three-car ferry across a narrow section of Ocean (only 100’ or so). The ferry ride is less than a minute, but for the first few times, it seems a little weird (especially after you hear about the story where a few weeks ago someone accidentally left their car in neutral and slid off the front of the ferry into the water).

Duncan’s house is about as far away from civilization as one can comfortably live without having to sacrifice the New York Times. Built as a duck-hunting lodge many moons ago, the house boasts 270 degree views of the bay and marshland, but lacks air-conditioning, internet, and tv (arguably, not a bad thing). After a little relaxing, the three of us ferried our way back to Martha’s Vineyard proper for an afternoon of fun with Tim Douglas.

Martha’s Vineyard’s road systems are mediocre at best. I defend this with the trip that we took to Tim’s house. Despite Duncan’s GPS system in his car, it took us around two hours to make what should have been a thirty minute drive. Don’t you love when that little machine says “You have arrived at your destination!” and there’s no houses in sight?

Well, it turned out that Tim’s house actually wasn’t on GPS. In fact, according to the GPS, Tim’s road did not exist (our little car icon was shown driving through a big patch of green). After many lost cell phone calls back and forth with Tim (Vineyard cell phone service is also notoriously bad), we finally arrived at the Douglas Compound. It turns out that Tim’s grandparents bought three lots on the Vineyard a long time ago, which were now undoubtedly worth an obscene amount of money.

Tim’s house was beautiful. We stood in awe for a few minutes and then made the ten minute walk down to the beach (which was actually a pond, which was actually a cove). We took Tim’s motor-boat out on the water and Karen and Duncan did some water-tubing. We ended up on a beach across the cove just sitting around for a while and eating some snacks that Tim’s mom had packed (grapes and cheese!). At one point, Duncan got stung by a bee on his hand (more on this later).

We then motored back over to Tim’s beach and set up his sail-boat. It ended up taking us over an hour to set it up because Duncan had dropped a pin into the murky depths while we were trying to set it up. He blamed it on his then slightly swollen hand from the bee sting. We ended up only sailing for half an hour or so, as we were all growing hungry. So, we headed back to the beach and decided to eat at Duncan’s.

It was getting pretty late at this point; it must have been after 6:30, and we knew that once we got back it was going to be a while before dinner (we had to cook it). So, on the way home we stopped at the grocery store and at an entire bag of pita chips while getting our dinner supplies. We managed to make it back to Duncan’s in about a third of the time it had taken us to get to Tim’s that afternoon. Funny how that works when you know where you’re going!

At Duncan’s, we all sat around and relaxed while dinner was cooking. After eating, it was close to 9:00, so Duncan’s mom called it a night and headed to bed. However, moments afterward, we were all drawn to the porch by the sounds of very professional sounding and looking fireworks. The illegal spectacle lasted nearly 10 minutes and I must say it bested some of the local fourth of July fireworks shows I’ve seen in the past few years. The four of us (Tim had come home with us) then decided to go for a walk on the beach and investigate this mysterious but spectacular display. Eventually, we made our way to a house that was blaring music and had little bits of firework wrapper strewn all about the beach. With Jesse (Duncan’s dog) leading the way, we walked up the steps into the back yard. We expected to find a bunch of teenagers at a pool party but what we ended up discovering was a bunch of semi-drunk adults under an expensive looking party tent listening to John Mayer. With that, we headed back.

When we got home Duncan’s Dad had gone to bed and we all sat around the living room table admiring the work that Ginny (Duncan’s mother) had made on a 1000 piece puzzle. Slowly but surely, we all began piecing together little bits of sky, grass, window, etc. Two hours passed before we realized that our plans for a night on the town had turned into us sitting around and making a puzzle. We are so cool.

It was about 1:00am at this point and we decided to drive over to this bridge where there were allegedly thousands of glowing, phosphorescent jelly fish that passed by. At first, we were disappointed to find no such jellies, but after a few minutes, we found a large hoard of them heading under the bridge. It was beautiful, and we stayed out on that point for a long time watching the jellies go by. I got cold, though, and everyone was getting tired, so we drove back along the dusty, dirt roads to Duncan’s cabin.

Upon returning, we worked a little more on puzzle-making and had a bit of a freestyle rap battle. All was well. We fell asleep listening to The Album Leaf. What a day.

Steady Does It

David Wilder came down to Concord for the day, so I spent most of the day thinking about running. This was furthered by the fact that we both spent the late afternoon/early evening with Jon Waldron, our High School coach.

The day started when David arrived and we headed out to get some lunch and pick up Anna from her last day on the farm. We then ran over to “Fire Your Desire,” a paint-your-own-pottery place, and dropped Annie off. David and I then drove over to Kennedy’s Pond in Westford for a swim. It gave me a new appreciation for how hard it is to swim. Water is remarkably more difficult to move through than air. Still, David and I swam the farthest that I’ve ever swum, which may or may not be depressing, given that it is shorter than Michael Phelps’ cooldown swim. Still, I’ve run 4 or 5 mile cool downs after races, and I’m sure there are some people who have never run that far.

After our successful swim, we drove home and headed to Concord center to meet up with Jon. As we were driving over, the skies began to darken, which wasn’t a great sign, and as we pulled into our parking space, the heavens seemed to open. Once Jon got there we ended up sitting around for an hour or so and just talking while waiting for the worst of the storm to pass. We talked a lot about training and how the last few months have gone for me. Sometimes it’s really nice to have someone else give you a fresh perspective on things. See, I look at my training and I don’t see that much improvement because my expectations keep changing so quickly. If I could run so fast last week, then I expect to be able to run a little faster the next. But Jon was able to remind me that this really has been an incredible three months in terms of progress. Three months ago, I was running six miles a week and two miles seemed like a long-run.

Again, I hate to cut things short, but it turns out I have to get up at 6:00am tomorrow and head to Duncan’s house on the Vineyard. With that said, I’m afraid I won’t be able to update this until I get back. I’ll try to write some while I’m there and then type it up when I get back. Either way, I’ll certainly be back Monday and should be able to update then.

My Beef with Swimming

There’s something that bothers me about Olympic swimming. It’s not that I doubt the ability and athleticism of swimmers; they are clearly incredible athletes. It’s more that with all the recent buzz over American swimmer Michael Phelps and his bazillion gold medals, it seems a bit unfair. Here’s my beef: it doesn’t seem fair that swimmers can compete in like 15 medal events in the same Olympics. Let me explain. In running, for example, one trains for one or MAYBE two races (100m and 200m, 1500m and 5k). My problem with swimming is that swimmers can compete in all of these races, while a runner has to train specifically for each distance. If you want to run the marathon, you train for the marathon and you put all of yourself into it. You can’t run the marathon and the 100m and the steeplechase in the same Olympics.

I have a related beef with Michael Phelps, himself, which is actually more a beef with the media and how they refer to him as “the greatest Olympian of all time.” This cannot be claimed of anyone. Yes, Phelps does have the most gold medals of any Olympian, but does this make him the greatest? No. It may make him the best Olympic swimmer of all time, but the best Olympian? I think not. Think about decathletes, pentathletes, people who compete in multiple events but only get one medal for their abilities. What would make somebody the greatest Olympian? Is it about how many medals they win? How many records they set? How fast they run, swim, bike? Or maybe the span of their Olympic careers?

Anyways, enough of that. Today was a little stressful. I had a lot of pain in my left hip this morning, which was pretty worrisome. Needless to say, I did not run today. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time on my feet and luckily, I’m feeling a lot better now. Hopefully I’ll still feel ok tomorrow. I believe that Annie and I are running together in the afternoon sometime. It should be fun.

I enjoyed a lazy morning. I woke up relatively early but spent most of the time just sitting around. I played some music, cleaned my room a bit, and just enjoyed not doing anything. I picked up Annie from work and we spent some time at her house babysitting her little cousins and then taking them home. I did a little more painting in the office and she went out with Liz Bedell. Addy called me from her hippy camp in Vermont. It was good to hear from her. I also heard from Max and Colin today; I’m hoping to be able to see them in the next few weeks before I leave.

Ok, so I have the rest of this week, next week, and then the week after that. I’m going to try and break it down a bit and see if I can actually get all of this stuff done. So, tomorrow I’m hoping to see Fitz with Annie in the evening and hopefully spend most of the afternoon with her. Friday, Annie heads up to Maine in the late afternoon. Hopefully, we’ll get some time in the afternoon. Also, I think I’m running with Jon Waldron in the morning or some time. Then, this weekend I might go to Martha’s Vineyard to chill with Duncan. Then it’s next week, Annie’s last week here. I’m hoping to spend most of the week with her. Some things I want to do: go rock climbing, swim across Walden Pond, go for a day hike, camp out together, go to Kennedy’s Pond. Well, that’s five things and there are five days…Oh my.

My last week here I’m hoping won’t be too tainted with the fact that Annie is gone. I want to try and get to Six Flags with Addy. I also want to see a bunch of people before I leave. Also, one more thing I want to do in the next 2½ weeks is run a 9:42 3000m. We’ll see.

Flight

I’m feeling more and more anxious as each day goes by. And I don’t see it getting any better. I think that in a way uncertainty makes me really anxious. I wouldn’t call myself a control freak, in general. There are certainly specific things about which I am a perfectionist (take music, for example). But on a whole, I don’t see myself as a control freak. Still, there are things like airplanes that just scare the hell out of me, and I think a big part of that is lack of control. I KNOW rationally that airplanes are relatively safe (I’ve heard even more so than cars), but the fact that there is nothing that I can do, myself, to improve my odds of surviving freaks me out.

Maybe it’s the same thing with life in general. Right now I feel like a lot of things are like big long plane rides in my life. In my relationship, most of the cards are out of my hand. There’s nothing I can do except wait and see what happens and where things end up. I’m a little worried about my hip, but again, there’s very little I can do besides wait and see. I feel like my life is becoming one increasingly scary, bumpy plane-ride and I’m stuck in coach watching the clouds go by.

My 7.5 miler went ok this morning. It was my longest run by 1.3 miles since injury and it felt like it. I ran out the Great Meadows trail from the Keyes Rd parking lot and made it a little ways beyond the water treatment plant in Bedford. I wonder how far/where that trail ends up going. Someday when I have more miles under my legs, I’ll find out. I did have some pretty bad hip pain about 5 miles in though, which actually forced me to stop and walk it out for a few seconds (not out of actual pain or tiredness, just worry to see if I was limping). I am listening very closely to my body, especially for groin pain, and so far I think I’m doing an okay job. I will almost certainly take tomorrow off unless I feel miraculously better tomorrow morning. I think I’m doing a much better job this time around of listening to myself and dealing with pains rather than ignoring and running through them.

Duncan is back in town for a few days. It was good to see him for a few hours tonight. Hopefully, I’ll be able to go spend this weekend down on Martha’s Vineyard with him and his family this weekend while Annie is in Maine.

It is now well past my bed time and so I must be off.

Tick Tock

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Time flies when you don’t want it to. I wish that I wasn’t so anxious. I’m anxious about a lot right now. I’m anxious about the trip, anxious about traveling on my own, anxious about living on my own, anxious about living in a foreign country on my own, anxious about leaving the comforts of my home, anxious about my hip, anxious about just about anything. I wish that I could practice what I preach. Sometimes I feel like I have really helpful things to say to other people, but I can never seem to apply that same lens through which I see others so clearly to myself.

I think in some ways I’m sort of in denial about this whole situation. I think that once Annie leaves it will all feel real. For now it just seems like it’s still so far away. Packing and cleaning my room seem like ridiculous tasks. I have all the time in the world, right?

Today was fun. I spent most of the morning and afternoon with Annie. We spent the morning at her house. We spent the afternoon out running some errands and visiting my elderly neighbor. It was good to check in on her, but sad since she recently lost her husband. She must be pushing 90 at this point and she was glad to have some company.

Eventually, due to the rain, we made our way over to the CA gym to work out. This was a strange experience. It was bizarre to park in my old parking spot in West Gate and walk across the quad and work out in that room that I spent so much of my senior winter and spring in. In a way, though, it was nice because I was able to do a workout much harder than I could have done 3 months ago on the elliptical machine. All in all, a solid workout, despite the fact that it felt really weird to be back there.

I picked up some Chinese food and the fam celebrated mama’s birthday. After a brief break to see Annie for a bit, we continued to watch the Olympics. Beach volleyball is a great sport to watch.

Tomorrow I get to run 7.5 miles! I’m thinking of doing it on the Great Meadows trail. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Running on Empty

It doesn’t usually take this long for me to decide what to write. Well, I guess some relatively interesting things happened today. My mother’s birthday is tomorrow, so today we had a little family gathering. My cousins, aunt, uncle, and grandparents all came by and I picked up my brother who took the bus down from Dartmouth for the day. To be perfectly honest, it was pretty awkward. My cousins and I don’t really have a lot in common. They’re perfectly fine kids, I just feel like they see me and my family as a bunch of spoiled rich people (which arguably we may or may not be) and we see them as relative ludites.

But it was okay. Picking up Brett from the subway station actually saved me a lot of the socializing time and since the Olympics were on, it provided at least one source of common entertainment. My one cousin, Brian, who’s a year or two older than me just got his second several-hundred-dollar tattoo on his other bicep. The first is, in gothic letter, “To Thine Own Self, Be True.” The second is a large cross with the image of Jesus sort of super imposed into it. One wonders, though, if he’s simply going for irony. In the same conversation in which he showed us his cross, he mentioned how he tried to get out of going to church every week. And I never once have heard him mention Shakespeare.

The grand parents and cousins and co left mid-afternoon. After a little bit of cleanup and argument about plans for the evening, we headed out to dinner at Myers and Chang, an Asian-fusion joint in the city. It was all well and good and we then dropped Brett back off at the bus and headed home. The car ride was only worth mentioning because of the re-broadcasting of “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me!” and some remarkable thunderstorms.

I finally got to see Annie. She got back from Maine with her sister about the same time that I returned home with my parents. She came over and we watched a few pint-sized Chinese girls swing themselves around bars and fly across mats (gymnastics). It makes me really depressed to think that all of these 16-20 year old athletes are already Olympians (many Olympic medalists) and here I am sitting in my room at home, naked, typing out my boring thoughts for no one to read. Sure, I have dreams and aspirations, but I haven’t gotten anywhere. I have a few things at which I’ve become decent, but nothing I can really say “Yeah, I’m world-class at that.”

I would love to run in the Olympics some day. I wish I had the confidence of a Steve Prefontaine type to simply proclaim it to be true while watching TV with my family, but I guess my Jewish sentiments make a little more pessimistic than Steve. There are 300 million people in the United States and three people on the Olympic marathon team. That means I’m basing my dreams on a roughly one in three-hundred-million chance. Now, whenever I hear someone say “Oh, it’s only a one in a million chance that such and such will happen,” I think of that thing happening a hundred times and that’s the likelihood of my dream coming true.

The speed workout this morning went okay. Like last week, the shorter repeats went pretty well with the longer ones not quite up to snuff. This week, though, the short repeats were quarters and the longer ones were 800s. All in all, I wasn’t thrilled, but it was okay, especially since I had to basically roll out of bed and go run. I didn’t even have time for breakfast! Oh no!

Two weeks from today, Annie leaves for Amherst. I try not to count down days but it’s really hard not to. I just want them to be special.

I always try to think of something witty to say to end these ramblings, but sometimes I got nothing.

Forgetting

I just finished watching “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” a Jud Apatow flick about a guy whose girlfriend dumps him and yet he can’t seem to escape her. As a whole, it was a funny movie (no Superbad or Knocked Up, but solid). On a more subtle note, it actually struck a relatively poignant chord with me. While most of the situations were hilariously over the top and slapstick, there was an underlying seriousness that reminded me of the utter desperation of being forced to let go when you’re not ready.

I’ve already had to do this once with her. Well, maybe even twice? Still, this time is different. In two weeks, she’ll get in her car with her parents and head away to an exciting new place: a place without parents, without curfews, and without me. It’s hard to think about what those last few moments will be like. Will we both be too stubborn and stone-faced to show how we actually feel or will we bawl our eyes out? All I know is that I’m not ready. I’m not ready to let go of her; I’m not ready to hear that she IS ready to let go of me. Maybe that’s what hurts the most, the idea that she is okay with the uncertainty.

I’ve never been good at getting over girls. One of two things has happened in the past: I’ve either completely ignored her, told myself I hated her and that she was a miserable part of my life until it became the only thing I remembered and then never talked to her again or I simply didn’t get over her, but simply harbored my own feelings (in secret or not) and then eventually get hurt when I try to communicate about them. Both of these scenarios lead to shitty outcomes. Either I end up hating her and never speaking to them again or I end up getting my heart broken again. Relationships are hard.

Anna broke up with me once already, so in theory I should know what to expect. But it was different the first time. I think that part of me, deep down, thought that we might be able to get back together. So there wasn’t that same finality that I feel now. That was in March, so we still had three months of school and another three months of summer, so we had time if we did want to get back together. But now, it seems like even if we did want to, which doesn’t seem likely on the other side of the equation, we don’t have that same convenience. We’re not going to school together. And for the next year I’m going to be at least 2000 miles away. Fuck.

I think that the biggest problem or paradox in my mind is how to deal with the three months that I’m in Ecuador. It’s the time immediately after we will have been separated. Right now, she is the person I go to with anything. She is my best friend before she is my girlfriend. She’s the person that I see every day, the person who puts a smile on my face, the person that I think about and structure my day around. In a very blunt way, there will be a lot less to think about if she’s no longer a part of my life. And that’s what I’m worried about. I don’t want to let her just slip away and have her no longer be a part of my everyday life. But at the same time, I know that I’m going to need to get over her and need space and need time. Why is this all so complicated? Fuck.

I’m just trying to enjoy these last weeks, days, hours. If I don’t think about it, it won’t happen, right?

Right.

Anyways, my hips were both acting weirdly today. I did a bit of walking and played some tennis, which was probably not a great idea, but oh well. My dad had been asking me to play with him for a while, so I felt inclined. I’m hoping that I feel a lot better tomorrow morning so I can try out this speed workout. I will probably run in the old Asics Gel Racers again.

The Olympics are in swing now, but track and field doesn’t start for a few days, so it’s not too exciting right now. There’s a lot of swimming. Boring.

I wish that I felt more excitement than dread. Well, dread is much too strong a word. Anticipation? I wish that I didn’t have so much to lose. Then again, sometimes you need to stir up the routine, throw a wrench in the works. I guess the only difference here is I feel like it’s all so permanent, like there’s no going back. I’m coming to the end of a very important phase in my life. Hopefully, this will give way to an even more exciting beginning.

Open Up

I had a similar run to my Tuesday run today. I ran a 4 mile out and back on the minute man trail from Merriam’s corner. The first mile felt like I was running through sand. Every step felt like an arduous, Herculean effort. This was probably due to the still very sore hip-flexors from my Pine Hill workout on Wednesday. After a first mile of around 6:50, I picked it up a bit and ran between 6:30 and 6:40 for the rest of the run, which is about what I was aiming for with today being an easy run. The only part in which I really pushed the envelope in terms of effort was the last 400 meters or so where I picked up my stride rate a lot to practice kicking. I felt really strong and smooth for the last minute or so. I blew by a couple of middle-aged soccer moms with puppies. It felt good to open up my stride.

In other news, the opening ceremonies of the Olympics were tonight. Well, actually they were this morning, but they were broadcast tonight in America. It was a pretty humbling geographical lesson when you realize how few countries you could actually locate on a map.

Annie is gone for the weekend, which is very sad indeed, but also means I can cross a lot off the list of chores and things I need to get done before I leave. Hopefully I’ll get to do some of the fun things next week. Rock climbing? Swim across Walden? We’ll see.

On Sunday, I’m scheduled to do a pretty tough track workout: 2x400, 4x800, 2x400. We’ll see how that goes. After the relative success of the Pine Hill repeats, I’m a bit optimistic. Still, my hip flexors were really sore today and I don’t think I could have even run ONE 60 second quarter. Only time will tell.

The Sinister Minister

Last night I saw a pretty intense concert. It was one of the best double-features I’ve ever seen. First was Bela Fleck and the Flecktones and second was Return to Forever. The Flecktones are one of the strangest instrumented bands ever: banjo, electric bass, saxophone, and electric drums. The music is a fusion of jazz, funk, and bluegrass (all instrumental) and the sound is unbelievable. Bela Fleck is one of the best banjo players I know of (certainly the best jazz-banjo player, though, albeit, they are in short supply). In addition, Victor Wooten on the electric bass is regarded as one of the best bass players in the world. All in all, an incredibly tight band.

Return to Forever was a group that I didn’t really know much about and so I was utterly shocked when they started playing. First of all, I thought they were a lot older (they were started in the late 1970s, I believe), so the music seemed much more modern than I expected. Also, every single player in the band was a virtuoso on his instrument, most notably the guitar player, Al Di Meola, who, I believe, may have be the pioneer of the “shred” guitar movement. All in all, this was a night that far exceeded my expectations.

Today was all right. It was a little crappy here and there. I woke up with really bad pain in my right hip-flexor and a little in my left, and I started to freak out. Before I got my stress fracture in February, I had a lot of pain in my hip-flexor, so I was afraid I had overdone it and was going to have to deal with another four month break from running. Still, I went over to Annie’s to paint and eventually she mentioned her hip-flexor was sore as well, so I felt a little better since we both did similar Pine Hill workouts yesterday. Also, I realized that it probably does make sense for the HF to be sore if you’ve been doing steep, steep hill repeats all day. I’m a little calmer about that now, but still uber paranoid.

I’ve been feeling kind of pissed off all day and I’m not sure it’s coming from one specific place. I think I may be getting addicted to running again and I’m feeling the withdrawal on the days I can’t run. Also, Annie and I got in a bit of a fight this afternoon. Basically, I didn’t want her to go back to work for the next week or so because I thought it was too soon given that she is still recovering from mono and is trying to train. Obviously, I’m slightly biased because if she doesn’t go to work it means I probably get to spend more time with her, so that’s also on my agenda. Still, she decided to go back to work, despite the fact that we only have a few weeks left on the same continent. Oh well. Yihyeh beseder.

I did get to go out to dinner with Jenny, which was nice. I haven’t seen her in a long while (maybe since graduation?), so it was really great to catch up. We got dinner and then wandered around the city a bit. I got my mom a birthday present (her birthday is on Monday) and then headed home.

I’m not really sure why this one thing with Anna and the work bothered me so much. I think that maybe it’s the fact that it seems like she has a complete disregard for what’s going on on my end of the equation sometimes. Like, today when we were arguing about her farming she mentioned that we would have the whole last week after she finished to spend together. This, however, would be assuming that I don’t have any commitments that week. What if I got a job that week? But see, this is the difference between us: I wouldn’t. I guess I feel like I’m tired of making all the sacrifices in this relationship. And I know that that’s a huge exaggeration and that everyone sacrifices things, but I guess I feel like I’ve been getting the short end of the stick recently.

I’m not really sure what to do about this or even if there is anything that I CAN do about this. In fact, the one thing I do know is that I don’t want to spend the last few weeks I have with her being pissed off all the time. I really do want these weeks to be happy and memorable.

In other news, I was reminded that I leave three weeks from Monday. Holy shit.

Conundrum

I think I ought to start writing earlier in the day. See, the problem is that I want to be able to write about the day as a whole, yet usually by the time I get to the end of the day I’m tired enough that I don’t feel like it. Quite a conundrum.

Let’s see, where to begin. I woke up a little later, which was nice after a pretty late night last night, and headed over to Annie’s. We did some work on her Dad’s office and then took a break. We headed out to get some lunch at main street’s and stopped by Crosby’s and Concord Lumber for some groceries/painting supplies. We got back, unpacked and then decided it was a nice enough time as ever to work out. So, we drove back into town (oh-so-efficient with the gas…) and I dropped her at CA to x-train and I drove to the Minuteman trail-head. I did an out and back run on that trail which ended up being about 10k. I had been hoping to keep the pace under 6:30 and ended up average 6:37, so not too bad. I’d also like to note here that this is the farthest I’ve run post-injury by 1.2 miles. So, all in all, I think it’s not too shabby. The only problem was I felt like I was running more like 6:10 effort and turning out 6:40 miles. I did do a pretty hard bike yesterday, so that could be it. Who knows…

Picking up Annie from CA was a much bigger deal than I had imagined. First of all, it was CA summer camp pick-up time, so there were a million little kids and preppy looking kids in pink CA shirts wandering all over the campus. Secondly, she wasn’t actually done with her workout, so I had half an hour or so to kill. I decided to walk to cumbie’s and back as a bit of a cool-down, but mostly to get a Gatorade because I was feeling light-headed.

Finally, we headed back to her house and actually did some work. After a few hours, I came home and had some dinner with my parents and went on a nice long walk through the neighborhood and talked to Kelly for a while. She seems to be in pretty rough shape; I’m worried about her. Apparently she has a meeting tomorrow with her parents and therapist as to whether or not she should wait to go to college and enroll in an anorexia rehab program for a few months. I don’t know exactly the whole story, but what I’ve heard is pretty upsetting. Basically, she seems to be back to as bad a place, if not worse, than she was in when she was first brought under the eyes of doctor’s and therapists almost eight months ago now. It seems really terrible that they could let her get to this point when they have apparently been monitoring her pretty closely. How does this happen? How is a teenage girl with a known eating disorder allowed to lose weight with doctors allegedly weighing her often and tracking her weight to the point where she now weighs less than she did when this whole process began? That’s pretty upsetting.

On a lighter note, tomorrow I’m going to run pine hill for the first time since cross country season. I’m pretty psyched about that.

I’m going to try and get some rest now. I’ve found that if I don’t get nine hours of sleep, my workouts don’t go too well.

No Apologies

I’d hate for this to become the kind of journal in which the writer simply complains about his or her lack of time to write and apologizes for his sparse entries day after day. The last few days have just seen me arriving home later than usual and, though I hate to admit it, I do require a good amount of sleep. Tonight I saw Jethro Tull at the Pavilion, quite a solid performance for a band of age-60+ musicians.

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful. I spent the morning around town running errands and then on my first bike ride in a week. It was nice to get out though. I feel even stronger on the bike than I remember, especially for the first half hour or so. After that, I headed over to Annie’s where her little cousins had dropped in. We looked after them for a few hours (I was a part of my very first tea party and also learned about the new bi-lingual-friendly programming on PBS) until Patty took them to Carlisle Castle and ice cream. Being a kid is so tough…

I came home afterwards and then went off to this concert with my dad. It was a pretty good time. One of these days I really will settle down before it’s almost my bed time and write something worth reading.

Getting Closer

A break from the usual. Today started out long before my days usually do. I woke up at 7:00 to get ready for the race. My parents drove me up to Newburyport and I registered and got some water and then just relaxed for about an hour. The race itself was way behind schedule. There were four races set to go off in 15 minute intervals. Not only did they start 20 minutes late, but the intervals were more like 20 minutes, rather than 15. Since I was running in the men’s open race, which happened to be the last race, I was bestowed the joy of racing in the heat and sun. Fun, fun, fun!

For some reason, I felt unusually nervous before the start. Perhaps it was the waiting and waiting that took its toll on me. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve only raced once in the past 8 months. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve never raced this distance before. Either way, wandering around the starting line, I felt like I was an insect among gods. Everyone there looked incredibly fit. I just felt out of place.

The race was short. The gun went off and I managed not to go out way too fast, only a little too fast. I ran the first quarter in 69, a good bit faster than I had aimed. I’m not 100% sure what my 800 and 1200 splits were, but I ended up coming in around 5:0something. Still, I had a lot of energy left at the end to kick, so I feel like I just don’t really know how to race this distance yet.

All in all, I’m happy with the time I ran given the effort I put in. Certainly a new PR and not bad for all of 16 miles per week. Place-wise, I think I was 37^th out of around 100 (but that’s just the men), so eh, not too bad. Again, I don’t think I should expect too much more from this performance.

After the race we drove home, relaxed a little, and then went into Boston for Shakespeare in the Park. The play was As You Like It, quite solid. Good dinner from PF Chang’s. I’m super drained though, so I’m going to call it a night.

The Cycle

Another day spent mostly covered in paint. Is my life becoming too ritualistic? Sometimes I worry about that. I worry that if I fall into a pattern, even if it’s a really wonderful pattern as I’m in now, then suddenly the days blend together and, before I know it, a month has gone by. Sometimes I have to switch things up and make every day seem like an individual day, rather than a piece of a larger whole.

I’m running a race tomorrow morning, so I won’t be too long here. I’ll review the day a bit since I’m not feeling too prolific currently. I woke up in the late morning; it was nice to sleep in for the first time in a while. I spent a little bit of time trying to fix my external hard-drive, which ended up going well (surprise, a first for tech problems…). I headed over to the Hager’s after to do some more painting. The big hole that I had plastered yesterday was looking pretty good and I put another layer of spackle on it. I spent most of the afternoon painting and driving back and fourth from Concord Lumber. Annie was in and out; she went to CA to work for a while, so I spent a lot of time on my own, which was actually kind of nice. It reminded me a bit of when I was cooking for the golf tournament and I would just put on an old album that I hadn’t heard in a while and zone out and really focus. It was the same basic thing except I was painting shelves instead of cooking burgers.

In the evening, Anna brought Elson over and we took him for a walk around the neighborhood. It was a nice night and it felt good to just get out for a bit. I’m now going to try to get to bed so that I can be relatively well rested for tomorrow. I don’t have too high hopes. I think I can run sub 5:30; I’m hoping to run sub 5:12, and really hoping to run sub 5:00. Most of all, I’m just hoping to not embarrass myself.

The Best

11:41pm

I spent most of the day covered in paint and plaster. After a brief amount of time spent in my own house, I drove to Annie’s and continued to work on painting and fixing up her Dad’s home-office. To be honest, this is basically the best arrangement that I could have imagined for the summer. I get to do relatively easy work, get paid quite well, get to spend my whole day with my girlfriend, and have no real set hours. It is quite wonderful. It’s also nice to find out that something that you imagined was just a normal household skill is actually somewhat rare and useful. Go me.

I had probably the best run I’ve had in six months tonight. Well, the second part of it was. I spent the first two miles in Carlisle with Annie, which began quite nicely. The night was beautiful and the pace was very relaxed, but she started feeling sick after about a mile. It didn’t seem like she’d be able to continue so I sprinted back to the car (about seven tenths of a mile) and drove to pick her up. She seemed to be doing ok after, and even then ran a little more when she got home apparently. That girl. She’ll push herself forever.

I was supposed to do 4 miles in total today, so I still had two to put in after I dropped her off. I decided to go home and test out my old Asics gel racers. To my great delight, they proved to feel wonderful, despite being a bit too small. My run was truly spectacular, despite its brevity. I started out jogging relatively easy for the first half mile (around 3:20), and then ran a pretty quick half mile (2:19), followed by another jog half mile and another quick half mile (2:29, uphill). All in all, it felt pretty solid. I felt quite strong despite feeling pretty stiff this morning and being on my feet all day.

Well, it’s nearing midnight, so I’m about ready to hit the sack. Also, I am thinking about running in the High Street Mile race in Newburyport on Sunday. Could be fun or could be a disaster. I guess there’s only one way to find out!

The Opening Phrase

12:20am

Here we go. I’ve wanted to do this for a while now and I’ve only been waiting for a good excuse. Reading over my old journals brought me to the point of nostalgia for my older days and also simply reminded me how nice it is to have an account of everything. To be able to go back and look at what I did, even if everything now seems petty and unimportant. I can’t imagine being the person that I was just a few years ago.

So what is this? It’s a prelude. An introduction of sorts. A place where I can ramble away about.. well, anything I suppose. I’m not going to edit this really and I’m not going to try and make it seem intelligent or thoughtful. It will be full of thought, however, but not necessarily thoughtful.

A prelude to what? You may ask. A prelude to a trip, to a new experience, to a new chapter of my life. I guess that this prelude will serve as a sort of setting up of this coming experience. How do I feel about it? What to I have to do to prepare, mentally and physically? Where am I going? What am I leaving behind? All these questions will be (maybe) addressed in the next 31 days before I depart for the Southern hemisphere.

I want to start by talking a bit about language, since language has a lot do to with this trip. After attempting to learn another language, I’ve found a lot of flaws in English. I first noticed this in a conversation today with Anna in which we were talking about the word love. In Spanish, to love someone in your family, you would say “te amo;” to say that you love someone romantically, you would say “te quiero” (literally, I want you, cool, huh?). Well, besides English’s lack of a differentiation between different types of love, I realized there was another lack of clarity when I tried to think about how I feel about the coming months. I want there to be a word that means really excited about something new but at the same time terrified because it is new and upset at having to leave so much behind. Apprehensive seems to negative. I guess I’m at a loss for words. What can I say? I’ve never claimed to be a good writer.

I will try and update this once per day for this month which will conclude my prelude. Then, the true symphony will begin.