life has been hectic for the last year or so, some my own fault, some not my fault.
Anyway, today I actually exercised at lunch for the first time in literally months. I got on the treadmill (which I hate) and started my run. For the first three miles I didn't like it so much.. but I alternated faster and slower miles. Then after three miles I was listening to a song I liked that was upbeat so I cranked up the speed. Then I found out I was running very comfortably at a 9:30 pace. I ended up doing a little more than 6 miles. It was very nice... I actually found my self not wanting to stop those last few miles.
My new discovery... 9:30 is a comfortable pace... 8:00 is doable. That is nice. Its been a very long time. I need to do this more often.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sadness
I'm sad tonight. My daughter did something stupid and I had to punish her for it. She attempted to forge a letter from us (her parents) to her teacher. She was trying to cover up for forgetting to print out a paper. That was all. So she's punished, we are trying to teach her how important it is to be honest and take responsibility for mistakes and I'm sad.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Athens Race Report
For those that have read my email race report.. this one has some additional details.. it could be worth reading again :)
How does one describe running in the footsteps of history? Hot, mostly uphill, not terribly scenic, intense sun, water stops with full bottles of water, bananas, snack bars and PowerAde and 42.16 kilometers in length finishing the the 1896 and 2004 marble Olympic stadium. The course was much more difficult than we expected. Which was OK for me, I wasn't running for time. This was a race to take part in History, the 2500th Anniversary of the legendary run from Marathon to Athens after the Battle of Marathon.
We found out at the Pasta Party the night before that Philipedes wasn't the runner who did the run, but it still makes a good story. And that is the legend that created my sport.
The ride out to the start was long of course (they drove us out on the route). Our bus reeked of cigarette smoke. When we got to the start it seemed like they dropped everyone off a mile away from the starting line and the port-o-lets. It was so warm most of us dropped off our clothes at the bag check as soon as we got there. A quick trip to the port-o-lets and we find out, they don't stock toilet paper in these things. Fortunately a couple of us brought supplies from the hotel room and Bruce had an awesome roll he purchased from somewhere (when you are racing you appreciate the simple things in life!).
Then the announcements started.. [Think of a frustrated Greek man trying to speak clear English] "Take your bags to the bag check, please, believe me, it is too late.", "Please proceed to your blocks NOW.", "Look this is really simple, you have a block number and color on your bib, go to matching block number and color NOW.", "You must be in the right block to get a time." The guy really seemed like he was getting frustrated with these 12000 runners milling around trying to figure out where the start was, where the bag check was, and where is the TP!
With the exception of Neville and Suresh we all wanted to start together (Neville and Suresh started in the earlier "blocks" - greek for waves). Bruce, Phyllis, Keshni, Kellie and I were going to start in the same wave.. but then we got concerned that we would not get times if we didn't start in the right waves. So we split up, Phyllis in wave 5, Nissa in wave 6 and everyone else in wave 7. Phyllis crossed the line first and waited for Nissa, Nissa crossed second, and waited with Phyllis for the rest. As a result of this little fire drill, Phyllis's chip time is 9 minutes too long and Nissa's is 5 approximately minutes too long.
So we started the race in the town of Marathon. It is a smaller Greek town but it seemed like everyone came out to yell "Bravo! Bravo!" and clap. Many people had olive branches which they handed to the runners as they passed. It seemed like everyone was dressed in their Sunday best as they came out to cheer the runners. I have to say the crowd support along the course was very good and surprisingly friendly. The course started generally flat to downhill as it turned left for an out and back loop towards Marathon Beach and the burial mound of the Athenians that died in the Battle of Marathon. We circled the mound and returned to the main road connecting Marathon and Athens. Everyone was running pretty well and we were trying to keep the pace slow because it was hot and we knew after the drive out that the course had much elevation gain ahead (much more than there appeared from looking at the course information online).
The course in general stayed on this main road through various suburbs of Athens, aside from the loop in Marathon we were running almost entirely through commercial districts. There were occasional statues of Philipedes along the route and at one point you could see the sea. But for the most part the route was uphill from the point where we completed the loop in Marathon to mile 20 or so. And it wasn't a gentle uphill. It was a serious uphill. In my opinion, Big Sur has more hills, but is easier to run due to the beauty all around. This was not an easy course. The heat didn't help, but mile 6 or so it was already 68 degrees. There WAS a blue line painted on the road which showed the shortest route on the course for the Olympic athletes, we had fun running on the line of greatness :) I took a picture of my feet on the line as I ran.
Continuing on... Kellie dropped back briefly and I was feeling tired already (around mile 5 or so) so I dropped back too. Phyllis, Bruce and Keshini continued ahead. Then something interesting happened. We were running along and this tall guy in gray shirt and track pants was talking to this group of people he was walking with about the impact of the heat on pace and how X degrees in temp will reduce your pace by Y minutes per mile. I recognized what the guy was saying from an article I read. The guy's watch beeped, and they started running for 30 seconds. Then the watch beeped again and they walked for 30 seconds. "That's Jeff Galloway!" [Jeff Galloway is an US Olympic Marathon Medalist and was the pioneer of the run/walk method of racing that has helped hundreds of thousands of new runners learn how to run marathons.] So Kellie and I decided to run with this group and try out the 30 seconds run, 30 seconds walk that they were doing. It really helped us a lot. The little breaks made the hills less intense and the running sections were much quicker.
We kept up this process and eventually caught up with Phyllis and Bruce. Bruce was not feeling well, decided not to push it and he continued at his own pace. Phyllis continued with Nissa and Kellie as we tried to catch back up with Galloway and his group. Eventually we did catch them but they didn't even pause at water stops, we did. So we decided to do our own 30/30 intervals with a modification of running 1 minute, walking 30 seconds on the downhills. We did this for the remainder of the race. Kellie kept track of the time, every 30 second she would say "Green light Go" or "Walk"... every once in a while She would say "Red Light Go" but that's OK... we knew what she was talking about. We even picked up people along the way that wanted to do the 30/30 method with us. So that was pretty cool. Doing this run/walk probably saved our collective behinds and made it possible for us to handle the heat and the hills with the best possible result.
Phyllis, Kellie and I stuck with these two random Canadian guys until about mile 23.. then Phyllis and I continued on ahead. I asked one of the Canadians to stick with Kellie to the finish line and he promised he would. It was so hot and I just wanted to be done.
Those last 3.2 miles seemed to take forever. I ran it as fast as I could and Phyllis stuck with me to keep me going and give me company. We ran past the Hilton Athens (our hotel) and I knew it should only be about a mile to the finish, but it wasn't. The course went down another street through the National Garden (I think) and I couldn't see the Olympic Stadium for a long time. So while Phyllis enjoyed the beauty of the scenery, all I wanted to do was get it over with. No "no such thing as good enough" this time. My mission was to be DONE. I did accomplish my mission... we finally turned the corner and there was the stadium with the Olympic rings in the background of the marble steps and seats. Phyllis and I yelled "Rejoice, we conquer!" as we crossed the finish line.
We walked down to get our medals then turned back to go back to the finish line to catch Kellie when she finished. She has a habit of hyperventilating when she finishes marathons and we wanted to be there to make sure she was OK. The people around the medals stand would not let me go back towards the finish (in spite of the fact that I saw others doing that without issue). I tried and tried to get back, tried to find someone who speaks English to explain to them that I needed to get back to Kellie, and they just refused. Frustrated I waited as close as I could. Phyllis was able to get back but could not find Kellie.
We waited another 15 minutes watching the finish line and hoping Kellie was OK. We saw one of the Canadian guys finish so we figured she had to be close. Eventually we gave up and went to get our gear bags and some food. We ran into the Canadian again and he said she finished in front of him. So we went to our meeting point and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually I went and checked in the medical tent for Kellie and she wasn't there. So we figured the only thing we could do is walk around a bit and look. Then we saw Keshni.. she just finished and she was doing well. Then we saw Bruce finish, he wasn't happy, but he was OK and he finished.
Finally we turn around and there is Kellie with Bruce's family. .. .more to follow...
Kellie kept it under control and kept calling time for the Canadians. And finished shortly behind us... In the end, I think we all had a tough time on a tough course, but we all finished. Which is a great accomplishment considering the heat and the hills. And we all finished in the historic Olympic Stadium.
How does one describe running in the footsteps of history? Hot, mostly uphill, not terribly scenic, intense sun, water stops with full bottles of water, bananas, snack bars and PowerAde and 42.16 kilometers in length finishing the the 1896 and 2004 marble Olympic stadium. The course was much more difficult than we expected. Which was OK for me, I wasn't running for time. This was a race to take part in History, the 2500th Anniversary of the legendary run from Marathon to Athens after the Battle of Marathon.
We found out at the Pasta Party the night before that Philipedes wasn't the runner who did the run, but it still makes a good story. And that is the legend that created my sport.
The ride out to the start was long of course (they drove us out on the route). Our bus reeked of cigarette smoke. When we got to the start it seemed like they dropped everyone off a mile away from the starting line and the port-o-lets. It was so warm most of us dropped off our clothes at the bag check as soon as we got there. A quick trip to the port-o-lets and we find out, they don't stock toilet paper in these things. Fortunately a couple of us brought supplies from the hotel room and Bruce had an awesome roll he purchased from somewhere (when you are racing you appreciate the simple things in life!).
Then the announcements started.. [Think of a frustrated Greek man trying to speak clear English] "Take your bags to the bag check, please, believe me, it is too late.", "Please proceed to your blocks NOW.", "Look this is really simple, you have a block number and color on your bib, go to matching block number and color NOW.", "You must be in the right block to get a time." The guy really seemed like he was getting frustrated with these 12000 runners milling around trying to figure out where the start was, where the bag check was, and where is the TP!
With the exception of Neville and Suresh we all wanted to start together (Neville and Suresh started in the earlier "blocks" - greek for waves). Bruce, Phyllis, Keshni, Kellie and I were going to start in the same wave.. but then we got concerned that we would not get times if we didn't start in the right waves. So we split up, Phyllis in wave 5, Nissa in wave 6 and everyone else in wave 7. Phyllis crossed the line first and waited for Nissa, Nissa crossed second, and waited with Phyllis for the rest. As a result of this little fire drill, Phyllis's chip time is 9 minutes too long and Nissa's is 5 approximately minutes too long.
So we started the race in the town of Marathon. It is a smaller Greek town but it seemed like everyone came out to yell "Bravo! Bravo!" and clap. Many people had olive branches which they handed to the runners as they passed. It seemed like everyone was dressed in their Sunday best as they came out to cheer the runners. I have to say the crowd support along the course was very good and surprisingly friendly. The course started generally flat to downhill as it turned left for an out and back loop towards Marathon Beach and the burial mound of the Athenians that died in the Battle of Marathon. We circled the mound and returned to the main road connecting Marathon and Athens. Everyone was running pretty well and we were trying to keep the pace slow because it was hot and we knew after the drive out that the course had much elevation gain ahead (much more than there appeared from looking at the course information online).
The course in general stayed on this main road through various suburbs of Athens, aside from the loop in Marathon we were running almost entirely through commercial districts. There were occasional statues of Philipedes along the route and at one point you could see the sea. But for the most part the route was uphill from the point where we completed the loop in Marathon to mile 20 or so. And it wasn't a gentle uphill. It was a serious uphill. In my opinion, Big Sur has more hills, but is easier to run due to the beauty all around. This was not an easy course. The heat didn't help, but mile 6 or so it was already 68 degrees. There WAS a blue line painted on the road which showed the shortest route on the course for the Olympic athletes, we had fun running on the line of greatness :) I took a picture of my feet on the line as I ran.
Continuing on... Kellie dropped back briefly and I was feeling tired already (around mile 5 or so) so I dropped back too. Phyllis, Bruce and Keshini continued ahead. Then something interesting happened. We were running along and this tall guy in gray shirt and track pants was talking to this group of people he was walking with about the impact of the heat on pace and how X degrees in temp will reduce your pace by Y minutes per mile. I recognized what the guy was saying from an article I read. The guy's watch beeped, and they started running for 30 seconds. Then the watch beeped again and they walked for 30 seconds. "That's Jeff Galloway!" [Jeff Galloway is an US Olympic Marathon Medalist and was the pioneer of the run/walk method of racing that has helped hundreds of thousands of new runners learn how to run marathons.] So Kellie and I decided to run with this group and try out the 30 seconds run, 30 seconds walk that they were doing. It really helped us a lot. The little breaks made the hills less intense and the running sections were much quicker.
We kept up this process and eventually caught up with Phyllis and Bruce. Bruce was not feeling well, decided not to push it and he continued at his own pace. Phyllis continued with Nissa and Kellie as we tried to catch back up with Galloway and his group. Eventually we did catch them but they didn't even pause at water stops, we did. So we decided to do our own 30/30 intervals with a modification of running 1 minute, walking 30 seconds on the downhills. We did this for the remainder of the race. Kellie kept track of the time, every 30 second she would say "Green light Go" or "Walk"... every once in a while She would say "Red Light Go" but that's OK... we knew what she was talking about. We even picked up people along the way that wanted to do the 30/30 method with us. So that was pretty cool. Doing this run/walk probably saved our collective behinds and made it possible for us to handle the heat and the hills with the best possible result.
Phyllis, Kellie and I stuck with these two random Canadian guys until about mile 23.. then Phyllis and I continued on ahead. I asked one of the Canadians to stick with Kellie to the finish line and he promised he would. It was so hot and I just wanted to be done.
Those last 3.2 miles seemed to take forever. I ran it as fast as I could and Phyllis stuck with me to keep me going and give me company. We ran past the Hilton Athens (our hotel) and I knew it should only be about a mile to the finish, but it wasn't. The course went down another street through the National Garden (I think) and I couldn't see the Olympic Stadium for a long time. So while Phyllis enjoyed the beauty of the scenery, all I wanted to do was get it over with. No "no such thing as good enough" this time. My mission was to be DONE. I did accomplish my mission... we finally turned the corner and there was the stadium with the Olympic rings in the background of the marble steps and seats. Phyllis and I yelled "Rejoice, we conquer!" as we crossed the finish line.
We walked down to get our medals then turned back to go back to the finish line to catch Kellie when she finished. She has a habit of hyperventilating when she finishes marathons and we wanted to be there to make sure she was OK. The people around the medals stand would not let me go back towards the finish (in spite of the fact that I saw others doing that without issue). I tried and tried to get back, tried to find someone who speaks English to explain to them that I needed to get back to Kellie, and they just refused. Frustrated I waited as close as I could. Phyllis was able to get back but could not find Kellie.
We waited another 15 minutes watching the finish line and hoping Kellie was OK. We saw one of the Canadian guys finish so we figured she had to be close. Eventually we gave up and went to get our gear bags and some food. We ran into the Canadian again and he said she finished in front of him. So we went to our meeting point and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually I went and checked in the medical tent for Kellie and she wasn't there. So we figured the only thing we could do is walk around a bit and look. Then we saw Keshni.. she just finished and she was doing well. Then we saw Bruce finish, he wasn't happy, but he was OK and he finished.
Finally we turn around and there is Kellie with Bruce's family. .. .more to follow...
Kellie kept it under control and kept calling time for the Canadians. And finished shortly behind us... In the end, I think we all had a tough time on a tough course, but we all finished. Which is a great accomplishment considering the heat and the hills. And we all finished in the historic Olympic Stadium.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
A homeland of sorts
I am exploring Greece this week. Staying in the heart of Athens before and after running the "Athens Classic Marathon". This marathon celebrates the 2500th Anniversary of the Battle of Marathon and the famous run of Phillipedes (among many names he is known by). The Athenians were victorious in battle and Phillipedes was chosen to bring the happy message to Athens, 26 miles away. He ran the 26 miles from Marathonas to Athens after participating in the battle to gasp out "Rejoice we are victorious!" then collapse and die. Marathoners often joke, "Why didn't Phillipedes die at mile 20?"
Our marathon route tomorrow will celebrate that event, the birth of the Marathon and the birth of democracy. The route will follow the route of the original 1896 Modern Olympic games and even finish in the Olympic Stadium used in 1896. This same route and stadium were used in 2004 for the 2004 summer Olympics as well. Fortunately we are supposed to have better weather than they did!
But, that's not what I'm blogging about, I'll tell you about that after the race. What I'm blogging about is the strange feeling of being in Greece. My brothers, sisters and I are all part Greek through our maternal grandfather, last name Demos, shortened from Demotropolis (which I'm told means he is a Demos from the south, that's what the "tropolis" part means). We are also German from both our mother and father's sides and Russian on our father's side. Aaaannnnyyyyway...
We, my brothers, sisters and I, share some strong physical characteristics... light brown straight hair (dark ash blonde is the hairdresser term), "big nose" according to my husband, defined cheek bones and a very noticeable chin. You put us together and you know we are related. We also don't look very typical American.. but we don't look like anything else in particular either. That's what I thought anyway, until we got here. Here I see people with those same characteristics all over the place. Everywhere. The Greeks here even told me I look Greek. So much so I walk down the street and smile and nod to someone and they start talking to me in a stream of Greek and all I can do is smile and apologize and say, sorry, I'm American, I don't speak Greek.
The first night here I saw a 1.2 x scale twin of my old boyfriend (who was also 1 generation removed Greek). A guy with the same hair, same nose, same chin, same weird style of wearing his facial hair.. only .2 times bigger than my boyfriend. He even smoked, though he holds his cigarette differently. Actually a LOT of people smoke here. Not a great thing for a bunch of marathoners
Wandering around the Acropolis, the Temple of Zeus the Olympian, the port of Pireas, I get this sense of this is my "homeland" if I ever had one. At least it is the land of my Grandfather and his forefathers. Do I like Athens? not really. I don't like the modern city of Athens much.. it is crowded and built up like a typical developing country city. It stinks of cigarette smoke and has more graffiti than I expected. But I love the ruins and the port and the sense of the truly ancient you get here. I feel young and small wandering around Portsmouth with building that are over 200 years old. Here, there are ruins over 2500 years old. The new subway built for the Olympic games unearthed cities and buildings from 500BC. They actually kept the ruins in place so you can see them as you travel in the subways. This entire history of the United States is a mere blip on the scales of time that you experience in this place.
On one hand I'm glad to know where my ancestors come from.. from having experienced both Greece and Germany on this trip to some extent. It is nice to have some sort of connection to a place where you are "from". At the same time, I'm not from either of these places. I'm from California. That's my home. My daughter doesn't look so Greek as I do and she's another step removed from our ancestors here. She's from California too. I don't get the feeling I thought I would here, I don't really know what I thought I would feel. I can tell you one thing though, watching the sunset over the Acropolis and watching the Parthenon being lit against the night is an awe inspiring experience... and to know that some part of me comes directly from this ancient land. That is pretty amazing too.
Hopefully some spirit of my ancestors will carry my part Greek body through the very Greek Marathon with a minimum of pain and a maximum of enjoyment.
Our marathon route tomorrow will celebrate that event, the birth of the Marathon and the birth of democracy. The route will follow the route of the original 1896 Modern Olympic games and even finish in the Olympic Stadium used in 1896. This same route and stadium were used in 2004 for the 2004 summer Olympics as well. Fortunately we are supposed to have better weather than they did!
But, that's not what I'm blogging about, I'll tell you about that after the race. What I'm blogging about is the strange feeling of being in Greece. My brothers, sisters and I are all part Greek through our maternal grandfather, last name Demos, shortened from Demotropolis (which I'm told means he is a Demos from the south, that's what the "tropolis" part means). We are also German from both our mother and father's sides and Russian on our father's side. Aaaannnnyyyyway...
We, my brothers, sisters and I, share some strong physical characteristics... light brown straight hair (dark ash blonde is the hairdresser term), "big nose" according to my husband, defined cheek bones and a very noticeable chin. You put us together and you know we are related. We also don't look very typical American.. but we don't look like anything else in particular either. That's what I thought anyway, until we got here. Here I see people with those same characteristics all over the place. Everywhere. The Greeks here even told me I look Greek. So much so I walk down the street and smile and nod to someone and they start talking to me in a stream of Greek and all I can do is smile and apologize and say, sorry, I'm American, I don't speak Greek.
The first night here I saw a 1.2 x scale twin of my old boyfriend (who was also 1 generation removed Greek). A guy with the same hair, same nose, same chin, same weird style of wearing his facial hair.. only .2 times bigger than my boyfriend. He even smoked, though he holds his cigarette differently. Actually a LOT of people smoke here. Not a great thing for a bunch of marathoners
Wandering around the Acropolis, the Temple of Zeus the Olympian, the port of Pireas, I get this sense of this is my "homeland" if I ever had one. At least it is the land of my Grandfather and his forefathers. Do I like Athens? not really. I don't like the modern city of Athens much.. it is crowded and built up like a typical developing country city. It stinks of cigarette smoke and has more graffiti than I expected. But I love the ruins and the port and the sense of the truly ancient you get here. I feel young and small wandering around Portsmouth with building that are over 200 years old. Here, there are ruins over 2500 years old. The new subway built for the Olympic games unearthed cities and buildings from 500BC. They actually kept the ruins in place so you can see them as you travel in the subways. This entire history of the United States is a mere blip on the scales of time that you experience in this place.
On one hand I'm glad to know where my ancestors come from.. from having experienced both Greece and Germany on this trip to some extent. It is nice to have some sort of connection to a place where you are "from". At the same time, I'm not from either of these places. I'm from California. That's my home. My daughter doesn't look so Greek as I do and she's another step removed from our ancestors here. She's from California too. I don't get the feeling I thought I would here, I don't really know what I thought I would feel. I can tell you one thing though, watching the sunset over the Acropolis and watching the Parthenon being lit against the night is an awe inspiring experience... and to know that some part of me comes directly from this ancient land. That is pretty amazing too.
Hopefully some spirit of my ancestors will carry my part Greek body through the very Greek Marathon with a minimum of pain and a maximum of enjoyment.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Life is full of surprises: PR at Twin Cities!
The first weekend of October I ran the 29th Annual Twin Cities Marathon... I ran like the wind and I didn't think I would. I haven't been training well at all, when I managed to get 20 miles or more in a week, 18-20 of them would be my long weekend run. Other weeks I wouldn't run at all. Mostly work, flying and racing were causing me to not train. I've lost a bunch of weight (30lbs), but had not trained. My long runs, such that they were, all went rather well but I didn't expect that to translate to a very good race. I didn't have the conditioning I was used to before a marathon, even a slow one.
The plan was to run a 5-5:15-5:30 hour race with a friend of my brother's who was going to run his first marathon. I've paced one of my other brothers and one of my sisters through their first marathons at Twin Cities between 5:15 and 5:18 so I figured 5:15 was a safe bet. My long runs, such that they were, were well below that pace and my legs if not well trained, were extremely well rested.
I arrived the Friday night before and relaxed with by brother and his family and his brother in law (I guess my brother in law too). The brother in law was also a soon to be first time marathoner, but he was very fast. He had a very good chance to Boston Qualify during his first race if all went very well. Not many people even have a slight chance of BQ in their first race. He did. He was also very cool to hang out with, an enthusiastic runner and intelligent and funny person. It was great to meet a new family member (in spite of the fact we'd been family for 15 years or so? I'd never met him).
Saturday the bro in law (herein after referred to as BIL) wanted to drive the Twin Cities course. He'd read a lot about this 'hill' around mile 20 and was concerned. BIL lives near Dallas, not many hills out there. I didn't remember any hills and I'd run it twice before. My brother said there was a hill but it wasn't bad. Anyway, we went off to drive the course. It took hours. For one thing, the course wasn't exactly a straight line, it wasn't closed to traffic and it wasn't well marked. The course map, designed for those who just need a general idea of where it goes because all you have to do is follow the guy in front of you, wasn't exactly good for driving directions. We took the wrong turn or two, but we finally found the 'hill'. It was just a long incline before the finish. We saw the finish too... it would sure look different. A quick stop at the Expo to pick up our packets and see if we liked the official Twin Cities Merchandise (we didn't) and we returned to brother's house for the traditional pasta dinner.
We hit the sack early, we had to leave before 6:20 to make it to the start at the appropriate time. For a change I didn't have my usual dread of the next morning. Normally the night before a race I simply dread what I'll do the next day. I know it will hurt. I know it will be hard. I know it will take at LEAST four hours and this time I was planning on more than five. I hadn't trained. I was just here. And in a way that helped. I still knew it would hurt and be hard and take a long time. But this time I didn't have any pressure on myself. I knew I could finish, I was confident I would finish in the 6 hours allotted, I wasn't worried about doing a specific time. My plan was to run this guy through his first marathon as I've run two other people through their first ones before. The weather was predicted to be perfect.. highs in the 50s, lows in the high 30s. We wouldn't even have to stand in the cold, they open a sports dome for everyone to stay warm in before the start.
Race Day
The day starts clear and cold and me and the two tall guys head for the VA to park the car and meet the other tall guy (the friend - T) at the light rail. We meet up, me all of 5 foot somethin and three tall dudes. Brother (C) is 6'2", BIL is 6'4" and T is 6'7". As we wait a guy walks up and waits with us for the train. He asks the guys if they are in a basketball team! No, we defer, we're going to run a marathon...
We get to the dome and hustle inside to stay warm. We didn't have a ton of time, but we had enough to get warm. For me to go to the line free women's bathroom while the guys waited to use the men's room. Eventually T decided to go outside to use a port-o-let, he didn't want to wait any longer. I promised to find him by the 5 hour pace group and I'd catch up with them if the start happened before I found him. We stayed inside a bit longer, then it was time to head to the start. I shook hands with my super fast brother C and the even faster BIL and we parted ways. Promising to meet at the finish. Then I went to stand in the port-o-let line. The line took, as usual, forever.. but I wasn't worried, the race is chip timed and I knew I'd catch T at some point.
Port-o-let trip complete... I started to weave my way through the packed runners toward the 5 hour group. I gave up eventually.. it was warm in the pack and no point in pushing, I'd catch T eventually. The gun fires and 6 minutes later, I reach the start and start running.
I try to keep my pace at 9 minute miles.. I don't want to go faster and I wasn't in the fast part of the pack. The first mile passes easily. I keep to whatever pace doesn't have me breathing hard. The second mile quickly rolls by.. half way through mile 3 I finally spot T and the 5 hour group. I settle in with him and start chatting away.. the miles roll by without effort. My legs feel good and my breathing is steady. After 4 or 5 miles I notice T is starting to lag behind just a little, so I slow down, but its hard. I walk a bit and let him catch up. Then start up again... We got past mile 10 and I wasn't even phased. Mile 10 is typically a rough time for me, that's my mental wall. 10 miles is long enough to be tired and early enough in the marathon that there's another long 16.2 miles to go. This time though, no problem. I was having trouble slowing down. He drops back again, so I cruised along a bit and planned on walking at the next water stop and waiting for him to catch up.
It seemed like forever to him to catch up. When he did he said he was doing good and he felt comfortable at his pace. I figured the 5 hour group was somewhere just ahead of us so I thought he was on a 5 hour or 5:15 pace and told him so. Then I did something I never thought would happen. I asked if he minded if I went on ahead. My feet were just running away with me. He said sure. So I gave him my last bits of wisdom as an experienced 5 hour marathoner and off I went with a wave.
I wasn't worried about time, I figured the 5 hour pacers were somewhere ahead, so I just let my legs run as they wanted and monitored my breathing to make sure I wasn't going too fast. I walked the water stops and generally enjoyed the day. I listened to the conversations of the runners around me, the slap of feet on the pavement, the scrape of rakes on pavement as volunteers clean up cups at the water stops. The cheers and laughter from the sidelines as people urged their friends, family and complete strangers on. There were large golden leaves on the pavement where they fell from the trees. The air was cool and fresh. I was running, for a large portion of the race, under the approach path for jets landing at the airport :).
Everything was perfect aside from the most amazing abdominal cramps that started around mile 15. They hurt. The stopped me from running and forced me to walk. I thought it was because of the drink from the water stops (one I'd never had before) so I stopped drinking that stuff and drank water or the Gatorade I carried with me only. The cramps continued on and off for the rest of the race. When they were "on" it was a major effort of will to keep running. It hurt like hell, it hurt only slightly less to walk. I did a physical status check, nope, this doesn't feel like pancreatitis, its not my appendix, its just something I'd never experienced before. So, I figured my best course of action was to finish the race as quickly as I could.
Sometime around mile 15 I also realized I would easily make it to the finish under 5 hours. I didn't know where the 5 hour pace group went.. I figured they must be way ahead of pace too. That made me smile. I hadn't run better than 5 hours since Big Sur and that was JUST under 5 hours and more than 2 years before. So I ran... the running still felt good, the cramp did not.
I got to mile 20, the famous "wall", and felt no wall, only cramps and strong legs and lungs. I looked at my watch and I realized, not only would I finish under 5 hours, I would finish significantly under 5 hours. Heck, if I didn't have this cramping going on I would be sure of a PR! If I just ran 9:30 miles for the rest of the race I would have a chance of catching my little brother (if he had a really bad day).Things started getting hard at that point, the pull of a PR chance vs. the pain of the cramps. Hell, I went into this thing thinking it would take me 5:15 to run this race, not under 5. Why push it?
The cramps started to fade and I was able to run more often. It had been a long time since I'd had a PowerGel for fuel, so I had one around mile 21. That was a mistake, the cramps got worse. I was so close to a PR, a totally unexpected on. No chance of catching little bro unless he had a REALLY bad day. I started to call on whatever I could think of to keep going. I wanted that PR. It was in my grasp and mine to lose. I kept hearing my CFI's voice in my head repeating his mantra "close isn't good enough" and "don't just take the easy way because its easy". (It turns out his mantra is "No such thing as good enough." I guess I was close *laugh*).
About this time we are on "the hill"... that hill that I didn't remember as a hill. The one that seemed like a slight incline as we drove the course the day before. All of the sudden, it was a hill. A long one. People were walking more around me, when I ran I was passing almost everyone else who was running. I tried to distract myself by trying to figure out if the slope of the hill matched a Vy climb angle.. that failed. Cramp pain got more and less intense. Close isn't good enough, close isn't good enough, close isn't good enough. Oh f it. This hurts and this hill is long. I start walking again at mile 25.. so close, but I wouldn't get that PR after all.
All of the sudden this woman runs past me, "Come on, get running! she said and she kept going. I thought, "Look, I've only got a mile point two to go. I can handle this pain for that long, and the sooner I get done the better. Close isn't good enough!" Cramps be damned, I started running again, up the hill, past the other runners. Soon, very soon it seemed, we came around the corner and could see the State Capital in the distance. I see that same woman who got me going walking.. I passed her and said "You got me going, now its your turn, lets go!" She picked up the pace and started running again.
The last half mile of the Twin Cities Marathon is special, you see the glow of the State Capital dome right in front of you. Two fire engines have their ladders extended into the sky with a GIANT American flag across the course with a backdrop of a perfect autumn sky. The long slow uphill has become a downhill charge. Close isn't good enough. Close isn't good enough! Don't settle for less than my best. I'm worth it!
I flash down the hill as fast as I can, weaving my way through people walking and running. Passing everyone I can. My breath is burning in my lungs, muscles aching, cramps cramping, the finish closer and closer. I pass Kellogg Blvd and the road levels out. The final finish chute is ahead with people on all sides cheering. Oh this hurts! But I keep going, faster and faster... I hear the announcer saying the time was about 4 hours 45 minutes.. it took me 6 minutes to get to the start, a PR is in my grasp. Faster still! I cross the mat before the finish and I hear them announce my name. Last few steps, don't slow down, don't look down, go go go!
I cross the finish and stop my watch. I almost didn't even bring it.. now I can't wait to look. I am gasping for air and shaking.. I walk stiffly forward and gladly accept my medal. My breathing starts to slow down, cramping subsides, I move stiffly and grab the aluminum blanket, water, food and other food stuffs. The watch... I forgot to look at the watch. 4:39:24 it says. So close... all I knew was my prior PR was 4:39 something.. I couldn't remember what it was exactly. Given the inexact science of pushing the buttons at the right time on the watch, I didn't know if I actually PR'd or not.
I look up and there's my brother, he's still in the corral! I figured he would have been done 40 minutes before me. Turns out he finished 25 minutes before me, not the hour or more I expected. He was stunned to see me there. I was stunned to be there! We hugged and shared the moment. He said BIL ran a 3:49 or something like that... a fantastic time, especially considering he was in incredible leg pain from mile 9 on. C had an OK race, but it just wasn't his day. We had no idea where T was. I hoped he was OK, I still felt responsible.
C went back to the family area to see off his wife and BIL and the kids. So the wife could go home with the kids and the hurting BIL. I hobbled over to the bag check area, got my bag and finally sat down on the grass to rest a bit. It was too warm to need to change to warm clothes, I enjoyed the day. Finally somewhat rested I hobbled back towards the finish. A friend from work found me and gave me a singlet with our company slogan on the back ("Go further, faster.") and a hug. It was good to see him.
C's family left and he came back to the fence as we waited for T to finish. I went to the port-o-let and just as I finish C calls me and reports T finished. C said he came over to C, gave him a hug and wandered off. Then he just sat down by the soup tent. He finished around 5:30. I found him and made him get up. Not a good idea to sit right after a marathon. I asked him how the rest of the race went. Shortly after I left him his family started appearing on the course, including his kids :) They found him at many different places along the course and gave him the energy he needed. He said he felt OK. He was moving slowly but he was moving. He was a bit dazed though. I walked him to the bag check, got his bag and asked him if he was going to ride home with his family. He said "I'm glad you're here. I totally forgot." He pulled his cell out of his bag and called his wife. They were ready to take him home. I walked him over to his family then went to find C.
C and I shared the bus ride back to the dome and the train ride back to the VA. We were both high on our runs, me especially so, I may have a totally unexpected PR! I really enjoyed that ride back to the car. Spending time with my brother basking in the glow of a race well run and the very pleasant surprise.
The next day we were finally able to see our official times. I did PR. By six seconds. It would have always bothered me if I was six seconds slower than the PR, what could I have done different. Instead, thanks to that anonymous woman and a CFI who won't accept anything but perfect, I ran my best race to date. It was a gift. The whole day was a gift. The weather, the race, the people I got to share it with.
I don't know why I had the race I had. The weather was perfect, but the Twin Cities course is not a PR course. The PR I ran beat my time at CIM, a race well known as a PR course. I ran 1000 miles the year I ran CIM. I trained diligently and did not skip weekend runs for racing. Not like this year. Not to mention, perfect weather didn't prevent the BIL's cramps or give my brother a PR time.Maybe it was taking the first 10 miles so easy while keeping with T? maybe it was weather, maybe it was experience as my coach says, maybe it was the weight loss, maybe it was just my day. I think it was a combination of all of the above. In the end, I don't think it matters. Sometimes life is full of surprises.
PS. Where was that 5 hour pace group? I asked T what happened to them. He said we were way ahead of them at the point I split up from T. I was running ahead of 5 hours the whole time and didn't even know it.
The plan was to run a 5-5:15-5:30 hour race with a friend of my brother's who was going to run his first marathon. I've paced one of my other brothers and one of my sisters through their first marathons at Twin Cities between 5:15 and 5:18 so I figured 5:15 was a safe bet. My long runs, such that they were, were well below that pace and my legs if not well trained, were extremely well rested.
I arrived the Friday night before and relaxed with by brother and his family and his brother in law (I guess my brother in law too). The brother in law was also a soon to be first time marathoner, but he was very fast. He had a very good chance to Boston Qualify during his first race if all went very well. Not many people even have a slight chance of BQ in their first race. He did. He was also very cool to hang out with, an enthusiastic runner and intelligent and funny person. It was great to meet a new family member (in spite of the fact we'd been family for 15 years or so? I'd never met him).
Saturday the bro in law (herein after referred to as BIL) wanted to drive the Twin Cities course. He'd read a lot about this 'hill' around mile 20 and was concerned. BIL lives near Dallas, not many hills out there. I didn't remember any hills and I'd run it twice before. My brother said there was a hill but it wasn't bad. Anyway, we went off to drive the course. It took hours. For one thing, the course wasn't exactly a straight line, it wasn't closed to traffic and it wasn't well marked. The course map, designed for those who just need a general idea of where it goes because all you have to do is follow the guy in front of you, wasn't exactly good for driving directions. We took the wrong turn or two, but we finally found the 'hill'. It was just a long incline before the finish. We saw the finish too... it would sure look different. A quick stop at the Expo to pick up our packets and see if we liked the official Twin Cities Merchandise (we didn't) and we returned to brother's house for the traditional pasta dinner.
We hit the sack early, we had to leave before 6:20 to make it to the start at the appropriate time. For a change I didn't have my usual dread of the next morning. Normally the night before a race I simply dread what I'll do the next day. I know it will hurt. I know it will be hard. I know it will take at LEAST four hours and this time I was planning on more than five. I hadn't trained. I was just here. And in a way that helped. I still knew it would hurt and be hard and take a long time. But this time I didn't have any pressure on myself. I knew I could finish, I was confident I would finish in the 6 hours allotted, I wasn't worried about doing a specific time. My plan was to run this guy through his first marathon as I've run two other people through their first ones before. The weather was predicted to be perfect.. highs in the 50s, lows in the high 30s. We wouldn't even have to stand in the cold, they open a sports dome for everyone to stay warm in before the start.
Race Day
The day starts clear and cold and me and the two tall guys head for the VA to park the car and meet the other tall guy (the friend - T) at the light rail. We meet up, me all of 5 foot somethin and three tall dudes. Brother (C) is 6'2", BIL is 6'4" and T is 6'7". As we wait a guy walks up and waits with us for the train. He asks the guys if they are in a basketball team! No, we defer, we're going to run a marathon...
We get to the dome and hustle inside to stay warm. We didn't have a ton of time, but we had enough to get warm. For me to go to the line free women's bathroom while the guys waited to use the men's room. Eventually T decided to go outside to use a port-o-let, he didn't want to wait any longer. I promised to find him by the 5 hour pace group and I'd catch up with them if the start happened before I found him. We stayed inside a bit longer, then it was time to head to the start. I shook hands with my super fast brother C and the even faster BIL and we parted ways. Promising to meet at the finish. Then I went to stand in the port-o-let line. The line took, as usual, forever.. but I wasn't worried, the race is chip timed and I knew I'd catch T at some point.
Port-o-let trip complete... I started to weave my way through the packed runners toward the 5 hour group. I gave up eventually.. it was warm in the pack and no point in pushing, I'd catch T eventually. The gun fires and 6 minutes later, I reach the start and start running.
I try to keep my pace at 9 minute miles.. I don't want to go faster and I wasn't in the fast part of the pack. The first mile passes easily. I keep to whatever pace doesn't have me breathing hard. The second mile quickly rolls by.. half way through mile 3 I finally spot T and the 5 hour group. I settle in with him and start chatting away.. the miles roll by without effort. My legs feel good and my breathing is steady. After 4 or 5 miles I notice T is starting to lag behind just a little, so I slow down, but its hard. I walk a bit and let him catch up. Then start up again... We got past mile 10 and I wasn't even phased. Mile 10 is typically a rough time for me, that's my mental wall. 10 miles is long enough to be tired and early enough in the marathon that there's another long 16.2 miles to go. This time though, no problem. I was having trouble slowing down. He drops back again, so I cruised along a bit and planned on walking at the next water stop and waiting for him to catch up.
It seemed like forever to him to catch up. When he did he said he was doing good and he felt comfortable at his pace. I figured the 5 hour group was somewhere just ahead of us so I thought he was on a 5 hour or 5:15 pace and told him so. Then I did something I never thought would happen. I asked if he minded if I went on ahead. My feet were just running away with me. He said sure. So I gave him my last bits of wisdom as an experienced 5 hour marathoner and off I went with a wave.
I wasn't worried about time, I figured the 5 hour pacers were somewhere ahead, so I just let my legs run as they wanted and monitored my breathing to make sure I wasn't going too fast. I walked the water stops and generally enjoyed the day. I listened to the conversations of the runners around me, the slap of feet on the pavement, the scrape of rakes on pavement as volunteers clean up cups at the water stops. The cheers and laughter from the sidelines as people urged their friends, family and complete strangers on. There were large golden leaves on the pavement where they fell from the trees. The air was cool and fresh. I was running, for a large portion of the race, under the approach path for jets landing at the airport :).
Everything was perfect aside from the most amazing abdominal cramps that started around mile 15. They hurt. The stopped me from running and forced me to walk. I thought it was because of the drink from the water stops (one I'd never had before) so I stopped drinking that stuff and drank water or the Gatorade I carried with me only. The cramps continued on and off for the rest of the race. When they were "on" it was a major effort of will to keep running. It hurt like hell, it hurt only slightly less to walk. I did a physical status check, nope, this doesn't feel like pancreatitis, its not my appendix, its just something I'd never experienced before. So, I figured my best course of action was to finish the race as quickly as I could.
Sometime around mile 15 I also realized I would easily make it to the finish under 5 hours. I didn't know where the 5 hour pace group went.. I figured they must be way ahead of pace too. That made me smile. I hadn't run better than 5 hours since Big Sur and that was JUST under 5 hours and more than 2 years before. So I ran... the running still felt good, the cramp did not.
I got to mile 20, the famous "wall", and felt no wall, only cramps and strong legs and lungs. I looked at my watch and I realized, not only would I finish under 5 hours, I would finish significantly under 5 hours. Heck, if I didn't have this cramping going on I would be sure of a PR! If I just ran 9:30 miles for the rest of the race I would have a chance of catching my little brother (if he had a really bad day).Things started getting hard at that point, the pull of a PR chance vs. the pain of the cramps. Hell, I went into this thing thinking it would take me 5:15 to run this race, not under 5. Why push it?
The cramps started to fade and I was able to run more often. It had been a long time since I'd had a PowerGel for fuel, so I had one around mile 21. That was a mistake, the cramps got worse. I was so close to a PR, a totally unexpected on. No chance of catching little bro unless he had a REALLY bad day. I started to call on whatever I could think of to keep going. I wanted that PR. It was in my grasp and mine to lose. I kept hearing my CFI's voice in my head repeating his mantra "close isn't good enough" and "don't just take the easy way because its easy". (It turns out his mantra is "No such thing as good enough." I guess I was close *laugh*).
About this time we are on "the hill"... that hill that I didn't remember as a hill. The one that seemed like a slight incline as we drove the course the day before. All of the sudden, it was a hill. A long one. People were walking more around me, when I ran I was passing almost everyone else who was running. I tried to distract myself by trying to figure out if the slope of the hill matched a Vy climb angle.. that failed. Cramp pain got more and less intense. Close isn't good enough, close isn't good enough, close isn't good enough. Oh f it. This hurts and this hill is long. I start walking again at mile 25.. so close, but I wouldn't get that PR after all.
All of the sudden this woman runs past me, "Come on, get running! she said and she kept going. I thought, "Look, I've only got a mile point two to go. I can handle this pain for that long, and the sooner I get done the better. Close isn't good enough!" Cramps be damned, I started running again, up the hill, past the other runners. Soon, very soon it seemed, we came around the corner and could see the State Capital in the distance. I see that same woman who got me going walking.. I passed her and said "You got me going, now its your turn, lets go!" She picked up the pace and started running again.
The last half mile of the Twin Cities Marathon is special, you see the glow of the State Capital dome right in front of you. Two fire engines have their ladders extended into the sky with a GIANT American flag across the course with a backdrop of a perfect autumn sky. The long slow uphill has become a downhill charge. Close isn't good enough. Close isn't good enough! Don't settle for less than my best. I'm worth it!
I flash down the hill as fast as I can, weaving my way through people walking and running. Passing everyone I can. My breath is burning in my lungs, muscles aching, cramps cramping, the finish closer and closer. I pass Kellogg Blvd and the road levels out. The final finish chute is ahead with people on all sides cheering. Oh this hurts! But I keep going, faster and faster... I hear the announcer saying the time was about 4 hours 45 minutes.. it took me 6 minutes to get to the start, a PR is in my grasp. Faster still! I cross the mat before the finish and I hear them announce my name. Last few steps, don't slow down, don't look down, go go go!
I cross the finish and stop my watch. I almost didn't even bring it.. now I can't wait to look. I am gasping for air and shaking.. I walk stiffly forward and gladly accept my medal. My breathing starts to slow down, cramping subsides, I move stiffly and grab the aluminum blanket, water, food and other food stuffs. The watch... I forgot to look at the watch. 4:39:24 it says. So close... all I knew was my prior PR was 4:39 something.. I couldn't remember what it was exactly. Given the inexact science of pushing the buttons at the right time on the watch, I didn't know if I actually PR'd or not.
I look up and there's my brother, he's still in the corral! I figured he would have been done 40 minutes before me. Turns out he finished 25 minutes before me, not the hour or more I expected. He was stunned to see me there. I was stunned to be there! We hugged and shared the moment. He said BIL ran a 3:49 or something like that... a fantastic time, especially considering he was in incredible leg pain from mile 9 on. C had an OK race, but it just wasn't his day. We had no idea where T was. I hoped he was OK, I still felt responsible.
C went back to the family area to see off his wife and BIL and the kids. So the wife could go home with the kids and the hurting BIL. I hobbled over to the bag check area, got my bag and finally sat down on the grass to rest a bit. It was too warm to need to change to warm clothes, I enjoyed the day. Finally somewhat rested I hobbled back towards the finish. A friend from work found me and gave me a singlet with our company slogan on the back ("Go further, faster.") and a hug. It was good to see him.
C's family left and he came back to the fence as we waited for T to finish. I went to the port-o-let and just as I finish C calls me and reports T finished. C said he came over to C, gave him a hug and wandered off. Then he just sat down by the soup tent. He finished around 5:30. I found him and made him get up. Not a good idea to sit right after a marathon. I asked him how the rest of the race went. Shortly after I left him his family started appearing on the course, including his kids :) They found him at many different places along the course and gave him the energy he needed. He said he felt OK. He was moving slowly but he was moving. He was a bit dazed though. I walked him to the bag check, got his bag and asked him if he was going to ride home with his family. He said "I'm glad you're here. I totally forgot." He pulled his cell out of his bag and called his wife. They were ready to take him home. I walked him over to his family then went to find C.
C and I shared the bus ride back to the dome and the train ride back to the VA. We were both high on our runs, me especially so, I may have a totally unexpected PR! I really enjoyed that ride back to the car. Spending time with my brother basking in the glow of a race well run and the very pleasant surprise.
The next day we were finally able to see our official times. I did PR. By six seconds. It would have always bothered me if I was six seconds slower than the PR, what could I have done different. Instead, thanks to that anonymous woman and a CFI who won't accept anything but perfect, I ran my best race to date. It was a gift. The whole day was a gift. The weather, the race, the people I got to share it with.
I don't know why I had the race I had. The weather was perfect, but the Twin Cities course is not a PR course. The PR I ran beat my time at CIM, a race well known as a PR course. I ran 1000 miles the year I ran CIM. I trained diligently and did not skip weekend runs for racing. Not like this year. Not to mention, perfect weather didn't prevent the BIL's cramps or give my brother a PR time.Maybe it was taking the first 10 miles so easy while keeping with T? maybe it was weather, maybe it was experience as my coach says, maybe it was the weight loss, maybe it was just my day. I think it was a combination of all of the above. In the end, I don't think it matters. Sometimes life is full of surprises.
PS. Where was that 5 hour pace group? I asked T what happened to them. He said we were way ahead of them at the point I split up from T. I was running ahead of 5 hours the whole time and didn't even know it.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Ooohh I'm an American in Munich... ooohhhh...
You all remember that song, Englishman in New York... well, I'm an American in Munich. Its strange being in a foreign country that I can physically blend into so well. I'm a standard American mutt of European descent. IIRC my dad's side is German and Russian, my mom's side is Greek and German. Coming to Germany I fit in rather well physically at least. I'm slightly more tan than the average German, but I wear the same type of clothes. So I look like I belong here.
Very different from going to places like Japan, Jamaica, or Mexico where, with a glance, they can figure out pretty quickly I don't speak the language. In the UK I do speak the language, just with a funny accent. Here, the only German words/phrases I know solidly are, hello, good bye, good morning, good night, sh*t and "I don't speak German". So people in the stores or the restaurant downstairs from my hotel/apartment room talk to me in German. I do my best to figure out what they're saying, then they hear my accent and switch to a bit of English for my benefit. I sure wish I knew more German. It is almost embarrassing to have to admit I don't fit.
I went grocery shopping last night for a simple dinner, my hotel has a kitchenette and, as it was my first night here, I wanted to relax. This picture shows what I purchased.
I'm still not 100 percent sure what was in that package of meat. I'm thinking now maybe it was turkey breast. It was OK though. It was fun wandering through the store looking at all of the different packages and food items. Some things I did recognize and some I did not. I noticed one major thing out here... you know how in the US some cities are considering banning plastic bags, well, it seems Germany has already. There isn't a single plastic bag blowing in the breeze, the grocery store didn't even give you the option. You could carry your stuff out by hand or buy a bag. Recycling seems to be almost a religion too. And no one is suffering as a result :)
In any case, so far I am enjoying the stay... the air is cold and fresh, the street clean, the people friendly (at least until they realize I'm not German) and the meat product was good. This weekend I will be able to visit Munich city proper. That should be cool.
Very different from going to places like Japan, Jamaica, or Mexico where, with a glance, they can figure out pretty quickly I don't speak the language. In the UK I do speak the language, just with a funny accent. Here, the only German words/phrases I know solidly are, hello, good bye, good morning, good night, sh*t and "I don't speak German". So people in the stores or the restaurant downstairs from my hotel/apartment room talk to me in German. I do my best to figure out what they're saying, then they hear my accent and switch to a bit of English for my benefit. I sure wish I knew more German. It is almost embarrassing to have to admit I don't fit.
I went grocery shopping last night for a simple dinner, my hotel has a kitchenette and, as it was my first night here, I wanted to relax. This picture shows what I purchased.
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I'm still not 100 percent sure what was in that package of meat. I'm thinking now maybe it was turkey breast. It was OK though. It was fun wandering through the store looking at all of the different packages and food items. Some things I did recognize and some I did not. I noticed one major thing out here... you know how in the US some cities are considering banning plastic bags, well, it seems Germany has already. There isn't a single plastic bag blowing in the breeze, the grocery store didn't even give you the option. You could carry your stuff out by hand or buy a bag. Recycling seems to be almost a religion too. And no one is suffering as a result :)
In any case, so far I am enjoying the stay... the air is cold and fresh, the street clean, the people friendly (at least until they realize I'm not German) and the meat product was good. This weekend I will be able to visit Munich city proper. That should be cool.
Monday, September 27, 2010
The Pattern - Hopefully to be Repeated
What follows is an imperfect description of an imperfect traffic pattern lesson. I'm on the ground, so its OK. I'll be perfect as soon as possible!
Preflight (initial, interior, exterior)... Move seat forward so I can press the rudders fully and reach the controls. Seat belt, harness, strap on knee board, headset plugged in. Close door, leave window open, its HOT. Start Avionics On, radio check, ATIS, altimeter set. Taxi, Pre-Taxi
... stay on the center line. No faster than an old white guy can run. An airport old white guy, not a marathoner old white guy. Stay on center line, adjust throttle to 1000 RPM, go around the waiting Cessna, turn and face the tower, straighten the nose gear. Close window. Run-Up, Pre-Takeoff, Takeoff Abort plan ready! Taxi up to hold line.
That part only happened once the rest is repeated for each time through the pattern. We did a couple times on three one right, then the tower told us to go to three one left and make left traffic. The description below is the sequence for the best and last time through the pattern, left traffic for three one left. I won't mention some of the other ones. *smile*
... taxi onto runway, line up with center line, feet off breaks, onto rudder, power on full, stay on center line, right rudder, more right rudder, stay on center line, 55 mph, pull back slightly, plane off the ground, more right rudder, fly just off the ground, let airspeed build, pitch up to Vy... slowly. Left hand on yolk, right on throttle. Keep Vy pitch, trim if needed. Wings level, fly straight, Vy pitch, right rudder, Vy pitch. 500 ft AGL. Upwind leg done.
Time to do crosswind leg - look left, pick target point, look straight, no right rudder and turn left. Vy pitch, Vy, Vy. Wings level when aimed at target. Check airspeed (Vy) and track.
Time for downwind leg - Look left under wing, pick target point, look straight, no right rudder and turn left. Vy pitch, Vy, Vy. Wings level when aimed at target. Check airspeed and track. Check altitude... 1,100 ft time to level out, pitch for straight and level, pull power slightly, trim. ... he will do radio calls ... I fly ... aviate, navigate, communicate. Stable in level flight, check distance from runway. Runway approx half way up strut is approx 1/2 mile away. We are now free to move about the cabin (ha!) about 30 seconds. Abeam the numbers, time to reduce power, carb heat on, reduce power all the way, engine on idle. Do not let the plane lose altitude. Need some left rudder. Speed below 85kts, 10 degrees flaps, do not let nose rise, need some right rudder. Speed down to 70 knots, nose down a bit to pitch for 65. Trim 1-2-3-4-5-6. Look over left shoulder, runway about 45 degrees behind.
Time for base - look left under wing, pick target point, look straight, left rudder, left aileron, keep pitch for 65, do not stare at air speed gauge. Wings level, check airspeed and track. Glance at runway... draw center line out from the airport, should run through the middle of the instrument pack. Airspeed and track. (PS, if you turn too early for base, you end up too high on final, keep that in mind next time).
Time for final - look left under wing, pick target point (runway center line). Look straight, left rudder, left aileron, keep pitch for 65, do not stare at air speed gauge. Turn. Roll out of turn, right rudder, right aileron... line up with extended center line. Keep pitch for 65. Correct line up makes it look like we're too far right... but don't go too far right. If it ain't right, fix it. Check VASI, can't do power off approach *on* glide slope. White over white is OK. 10 degrees more flaps. Keep pitch for 65. Keep eyes on runway, getting closer... wait and wait. OK, now start round out slowly. Very slowly, eyes move to the end of the runway... stare at the end of the runway. Plane does a bit of a sink, keep the nose up, fly just above the runway, pull back a bit more. scrch! gear on runway, keep nose up and up and up... slowly let nose down. Slide feet up to brakes. Slowly slow the plane, get off runway, turn onto Yankee.
He says that I did it an unassisted landing he didn't touch the controls once. It doesn't hit me right away.
Time for after landing checklist. Flaps up, carb heat off, power back to 1000 rpm. He has flight controls, I clean up. I have controls, stay on centerline, debrief on the way. Taxi to parking spot, avionics off, mixture full lean, mags, master. securing checklist Headset off, window open, door open. Out and park the plane, tie down and finish securing plane.
In the end we did 5 takeoffs and landings in an hour, two of them I did unassisted (physically anyway). The last one was best... almost just like I visualized it when "couch flying" for the last two weeks.
Pitch for airspeed. Look straight. Stay on center line, if it ain't right, fix it! Close isn't good enough and I sure was reminded what happens when it isn't right... Absolute heaven! I have spent the last 10 years with people telling me to accept less than perfect, its OK. Now I'm being pushed to strive for perfect. I love it...
and... for those few brief seconds in the pattern I realize... I'm flying the airplane and turning and going up and down and not scared to death. I'm an awkward bird, but getting a bit more graceful all the time. I'm not going to be able to fly much over the next few months, with travel and weather planning to interfere. So I know I'll be doing a lot more pattern work, and each time will fall back a bit then go forward a bit, just like today. Today was a pattern I hope to see repeat.
Preflight (initial, interior, exterior)... Move seat forward so I can press the rudders fully and reach the controls. Seat belt, harness, strap on knee board, headset plugged in. Close door, leave window open, its HOT. Start Avionics On, radio check, ATIS, altimeter set. Taxi, Pre-Taxi
Reid-Hillview Ground, Cessna five two four niner two at Squadron2 with Pappa. Ready to taxi for closed traffic.
Cessna five two four niner two, taxi to runway three one right via Zulu.
Three one right via Zulu, five two four niner two.
... stay on the center line. No faster than an old white guy can run. An airport old white guy, not a marathoner old white guy. Stay on center line, adjust throttle to 1000 RPM, go around the waiting Cessna, turn and face the tower, straighten the nose gear. Close window. Run-Up, Pre-Takeoff, Takeoff Abort plan ready! Taxi up to hold line.
Reid-Hillview Tower, Cessna five two four niner two ready on the right.
Cessna five two four niner two, cleared for takeoff runway three one right.
Cleared for takeoff runway three one right, five two four niner two.
That part only happened once the rest is repeated for each time through the pattern. We did a couple times on three one right, then the tower told us to go to three one left and make left traffic. The description below is the sequence for the best and last time through the pattern, left traffic for three one left. I won't mention some of the other ones. *smile*
... taxi onto runway, line up with center line, feet off breaks, onto rudder, power on full, stay on center line, right rudder, more right rudder, stay on center line, 55 mph, pull back slightly, plane off the ground, more right rudder, fly just off the ground, let airspeed build, pitch up to Vy... slowly. Left hand on yolk, right on throttle. Keep Vy pitch, trim if needed. Wings level, fly straight, Vy pitch, right rudder, Vy pitch. 500 ft AGL. Upwind leg done.
Time to do crosswind leg - look left, pick target point, look straight, no right rudder and turn left. Vy pitch, Vy, Vy. Wings level when aimed at target. Check airspeed (Vy) and track.
Time for downwind leg - Look left under wing, pick target point, look straight, no right rudder and turn left. Vy pitch, Vy, Vy. Wings level when aimed at target. Check airspeed and track. Check altitude... 1,100 ft time to level out, pitch for straight and level, pull power slightly, trim. ... he will do radio calls ... I fly ... aviate, navigate, communicate. Stable in level flight, check distance from runway. Runway approx half way up strut is approx 1/2 mile away. We are now free to move about the cabin (ha!) about 30 seconds. Abeam the numbers, time to reduce power, carb heat on, reduce power all the way, engine on idle. Do not let the plane lose altitude. Need some left rudder. Speed below 85kts, 10 degrees flaps, do not let nose rise, need some right rudder. Speed down to 70 knots, nose down a bit to pitch for 65. Trim 1-2-3-4-5-6. Look over left shoulder, runway about 45 degrees behind.
Time for base - look left under wing, pick target point, look straight, left rudder, left aileron, keep pitch for 65, do not stare at air speed gauge. Wings level, check airspeed and track. Glance at runway... draw center line out from the airport, should run through the middle of the instrument pack. Airspeed and track. (PS, if you turn too early for base, you end up too high on final, keep that in mind next time).
Time for final - look left under wing, pick target point (runway center line). Look straight, left rudder, left aileron, keep pitch for 65, do not stare at air speed gauge. Turn. Roll out of turn, right rudder, right aileron... line up with extended center line. Keep pitch for 65. Correct line up makes it look like we're too far right... but don't go too far right. If it ain't right, fix it. Check VASI, can't do power off approach *on* glide slope. White over white is OK. 10 degrees more flaps. Keep pitch for 65. Keep eyes on runway, getting closer... wait and wait. OK, now start round out slowly. Very slowly, eyes move to the end of the runway... stare at the end of the runway. Plane does a bit of a sink, keep the nose up, fly just above the runway, pull back a bit more. scrch! gear on runway, keep nose up and up and up... slowly let nose down. Slide feet up to brakes. Slowly slow the plane, get off runway, turn onto Yankee.
He says that I did it an unassisted landing he didn't touch the controls once. It doesn't hit me right away.
Cessna five two four niner two, terminating.
Five two four niner two cross three one right to parking, continue monitoring this frequency.
Time for after landing checklist. Flaps up, carb heat off, power back to 1000 rpm. He has flight controls, I clean up. I have controls, stay on centerline, debrief on the way. Taxi to parking spot, avionics off, mixture full lean, mags, master. securing checklist Headset off, window open, door open. Out and park the plane, tie down and finish securing plane.
In the end we did 5 takeoffs and landings in an hour, two of them I did unassisted (physically anyway). The last one was best... almost just like I visualized it when "couch flying" for the last two weeks.
Pitch for airspeed. Look straight. Stay on center line, if it ain't right, fix it! Close isn't good enough and I sure was reminded what happens when it isn't right... Absolute heaven! I have spent the last 10 years with people telling me to accept less than perfect, its OK. Now I'm being pushed to strive for perfect. I love it...
and... for those few brief seconds in the pattern I realize... I'm flying the airplane and turning and going up and down and not scared to death. I'm an awkward bird, but getting a bit more graceful all the time. I'm not going to be able to fly much over the next few months, with travel and weather planning to interfere. So I know I'll be doing a lot more pattern work, and each time will fall back a bit then go forward a bit, just like today. Today was a pattern I hope to see repeat.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Up
I remember when I was a kid - teenager really - when I had access to a vehicle and some modicum of freedom when not babysitting. Living in Albuquerque, NM. Albuquerque is one mile high.. it sits at the base of mountains that go another mile up. I believe the elevation at Sandia Crest is over 11,000 ft (Ok, 10,678ft - I was close).
I remember when I would want to get away, I would tend to go up. Sometimes I'd go up to the whitewash... a white rock face in the Sandia Foothills scoured clean by run off from occasional storms. Other times I would drive up I-40 East Bound, then head half way up the back of the mountain... to a spot where I could park and watch the stars. I remember a cement plant near that place that really lit up the night. When I was really really upset, I'd drive all the way to the top of Sandia Crest.. watch the sunset or hike.
I've been learning how to fly and remembering how much I like being Up above it all. When I learned there's a possibility that I won't be able to get my pilots license due to medical problems.. my first instinct was to find the tallest place I can (around here that means 3000 or 4000 ft) and climb up. As New Model Army sing in their song High:
Flying is a physical, mental and I'm finding emotional challenge. When I'm up in the air, it all does look like nothing... and feel like nothing. I don't have time to think of problems at work or medical worries or anything but the challenge and joy of flying. It has a similar affect on me to running. During and after a long run, its all nothing.. my angle of vision is changed, if only for a while.
It will be close to two years before I can reach my goal, the license for me to fly what I want and WHEN I want (within reason). And its hard for me to be willing to wait. The craziness in my job, the overwhelming aspects of my life leave me briefly when I run or fly. I haven't been running much recently, I've been flying. Now I know that I have basically 3 more lessons before winter sets in. Then its catch as catch can for flying for me.. just trying to find time back in town that works for me as well as the CFI.
Well... enough rambling. Anyway... right now I really want to go Up. Its a full moon tonight, I love flying at night when the moon is out. The land looks magical from Up above the Earth on a moonlit night. Maybe I'll dream Up.. I won't get there tonight otherwise.
I remember when I would want to get away, I would tend to go up. Sometimes I'd go up to the whitewash... a white rock face in the Sandia Foothills scoured clean by run off from occasional storms. Other times I would drive up I-40 East Bound, then head half way up the back of the mountain... to a spot where I could park and watch the stars. I remember a cement plant near that place that really lit up the night. When I was really really upset, I'd drive all the way to the top of Sandia Crest.. watch the sunset or hike.
I've been learning how to fly and remembering how much I like being Up above it all. When I learned there's a possibility that I won't be able to get my pilots license due to medical problems.. my first instinct was to find the tallest place I can (around here that means 3000 or 4000 ft) and climb up. As New Model Army sing in their song High:
All these things you fear so much depend on angles of vision
From down in the maze of walls you can't see what's coming
But from high on the high hills it all looks like nothing
But from high on the high hills it all looks like nothing, nothing
Flying is a physical, mental and I'm finding emotional challenge. When I'm up in the air, it all does look like nothing... and feel like nothing. I don't have time to think of problems at work or medical worries or anything but the challenge and joy of flying. It has a similar affect on me to running. During and after a long run, its all nothing.. my angle of vision is changed, if only for a while.
It will be close to two years before I can reach my goal, the license for me to fly what I want and WHEN I want (within reason). And its hard for me to be willing to wait. The craziness in my job, the overwhelming aspects of my life leave me briefly when I run or fly. I haven't been running much recently, I've been flying. Now I know that I have basically 3 more lessons before winter sets in. Then its catch as catch can for flying for me.. just trying to find time back in town that works for me as well as the CFI.
Well... enough rambling. Anyway... right now I really want to go Up. Its a full moon tonight, I love flying at night when the moon is out. The land looks magical from Up above the Earth on a moonlit night. Maybe I'll dream Up.. I won't get there tonight otherwise.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
88 Hangar Queen - Part I
N88HQ is the tail number on a Cessna 182 at our flight club... properly, phonetically, pronounced this plane is "8 8 Hotel Quebec".. but she's fondly known as "8 8 Hangar Queen" because she is always in the hangar being fixed. Not her fault, we don't have many 182s at the club and so people are more used to flying 172s and 152s and don't know how to fly her well. So people make mistakes flying her, break something, and off she goes to be fixed.
Friday evening we are going to fly good old 88HQ to WLW via GOO. I arrive at the flight club and the mechanics have just finished putting the cowling back on the plane and fueling her up after the latest repair. Jeff pre-flights the plane and I get the luggage together. Katie and our friend, Paul, fly with us. The stop at GOO (Nevada County Airport) was to spend some time with friends that moved to Grass Valley, have dinner with them and deposit our child for the weekend so she could spend the weekend with her BFF from Kindergarten. I (and I think we - Jeff was PIC of the flight) knew that we would be landing at WLW (Willows Airport - our final destination) after dark... one doesn't leave San Jose around 5:45 PM, eat dinner for a couple hours and land another hop away before dark - this becomes significant later.
We fly from RHV (Reid Hillview - our "home" airport) to GOO without incident. (We did note the cylinder head temp and oil temp gauges were inoperative or inaccurate on the way out, but we had enough other information on the state of the engine Jeff figured we could continue.) We meet up with our friends and have a wonderful dinner. They drop us off at the airport and leave with Katie. Its well past dark. We (Jeff, Paul and I) hop in the plane, start up the engine and go through the initial and taxi checklists for the next leg to WLW. We turn on the taxi lights "as required"... hmmm... no lights. Turn off the switch, check the fuses, turn them on. No lights. Park the plane, turn off engine, get out, and see if we can find a way to reach into the cowling of the plan and feel or see an obvious plug that is unplugged. We knew what the issue was right away, the mechanics didn't plug in the landing/taxi lights after doing their work and Jeff didn't catch that fact on his pre-flight inspection.
So, what do you do? You know you need to get somewhere and it is a dark, but moonlit night, and you don't have the lights that are normally used to illuminate the runway directly in front of the plane when landing. You are 140 miles from home and 60 miles from your destination. Well, I knew with my current level of knowledge I certainly wouldn't fly and attempt a landing without landing lights. Jeff wasn't so unsure about his capabilities. He tells me he could land w/o the lights. Well, he's PIC and I'm just a 13 hour trainee. So, I have to trust his judgment. We get back into the plane and he sits for a second. Then he says, its best we don't go. At that moment we both say at exactly the same time "That is the right decision."
It was the right decision for two reasons:
1) while Jeff may have been able to land without landing lights, that puts our flight with an extra risk that we really didn't need to accept... who knew what else may go wrong on the flight. Flying is all about managing risk.
2) it turns out the FAA specifically disallows attempted landings at night w/o landing lights. So attempting such in a non-emergency situation is illegal.
We called our friends, they came back to the airport and picked us up.. we spent the night at their place, borrowed their car and drove back to the airport at 5:00 AM. Timed our flight to take off just after sunrise and landed safe and sound at WLW. There we were... able to fly to our ultimate destination (WLW) safely with plenty of time for breakfast and getting to the track on time.
I think one of the things I like about flying is the significance of the decisions made by the pilot. Yes, we could have taken off and maybe landed w/o those pesky lights. However, we didn't because of the additional risk (or likelihood of failure) created by the attempt... especially if something ELSE went wrong. If you make an incorrect decision (or risky decision) the wrong day at the wrong time with the wrong future circumstance, you, your passengers and innocent people on the ground can die as a result. There are not too many roles that have THAT level of impact... aside from the health care field.
More to come later... The race weekend and The Intrepid HQ and her further adventures ....
Friday evening we are going to fly good old 88HQ to WLW via GOO. I arrive at the flight club and the mechanics have just finished putting the cowling back on the plane and fueling her up after the latest repair. Jeff pre-flights the plane and I get the luggage together. Katie and our friend, Paul, fly with us. The stop at GOO (Nevada County Airport) was to spend some time with friends that moved to Grass Valley, have dinner with them and deposit our child for the weekend so she could spend the weekend with her BFF from Kindergarten. I (and I think we - Jeff was PIC of the flight) knew that we would be landing at WLW (Willows Airport - our final destination) after dark... one doesn't leave San Jose around 5:45 PM, eat dinner for a couple hours and land another hop away before dark - this becomes significant later.
We fly from RHV (Reid Hillview - our "home" airport) to GOO without incident. (We did note the cylinder head temp and oil temp gauges were inoperative or inaccurate on the way out, but we had enough other information on the state of the engine Jeff figured we could continue.) We meet up with our friends and have a wonderful dinner. They drop us off at the airport and leave with Katie. Its well past dark. We (Jeff, Paul and I) hop in the plane, start up the engine and go through the initial and taxi checklists for the next leg to WLW. We turn on the taxi lights "as required"... hmmm... no lights. Turn off the switch, check the fuses, turn them on. No lights. Park the plane, turn off engine, get out, and see if we can find a way to reach into the cowling of the plan and feel or see an obvious plug that is unplugged. We knew what the issue was right away, the mechanics didn't plug in the landing/taxi lights after doing their work and Jeff didn't catch that fact on his pre-flight inspection.
So, what do you do? You know you need to get somewhere and it is a dark, but moonlit night, and you don't have the lights that are normally used to illuminate the runway directly in front of the plane when landing. You are 140 miles from home and 60 miles from your destination. Well, I knew with my current level of knowledge I certainly wouldn't fly and attempt a landing without landing lights. Jeff wasn't so unsure about his capabilities. He tells me he could land w/o the lights. Well, he's PIC and I'm just a 13 hour trainee. So, I have to trust his judgment. We get back into the plane and he sits for a second. Then he says, its best we don't go. At that moment we both say at exactly the same time "That is the right decision."
It was the right decision for two reasons:
1) while Jeff may have been able to land without landing lights, that puts our flight with an extra risk that we really didn't need to accept... who knew what else may go wrong on the flight. Flying is all about managing risk.
2) it turns out the FAA specifically disallows attempted landings at night w/o landing lights. So attempting such in a non-emergency situation is illegal.
We called our friends, they came back to the airport and picked us up.. we spent the night at their place, borrowed their car and drove back to the airport at 5:00 AM. Timed our flight to take off just after sunrise and landed safe and sound at WLW. There we were... able to fly to our ultimate destination (WLW) safely with plenty of time for breakfast and getting to the track on time.
I think one of the things I like about flying is the significance of the decisions made by the pilot. Yes, we could have taken off and maybe landed w/o those pesky lights. However, we didn't because of the additional risk (or likelihood of failure) created by the attempt... especially if something ELSE went wrong. If you make an incorrect decision (or risky decision) the wrong day at the wrong time with the wrong future circumstance, you, your passengers and innocent people on the ground can die as a result. There are not too many roles that have THAT level of impact... aside from the health care field.
More to come later... The race weekend and The Intrepid HQ and her further adventures ....
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Special Things Katie Says
I was thinking today about some of my favorite moments with Katie over the years and the things she's said. I thought it would be good to record those little sayings before I forget. So here are some of my favorite Katie Bug Quotes.
Giving pre-race instructions before autocross race approx 4 years old.
In Kindergarten:
Disagreeing with the parents plans for the day (age 4 or so):
Singing after realizing the dead battery on the Jeep was probably her fault:
After I had to replace my cell phone resulting with a great picture of Diamond Head being lost (note, she hadn't learned how to type or use a computer yet):
When daddy was talking about losing weight (Katie age 11 whispered to me):
Not a quote but still cool... we were flying to Thunderhill in a Cessna 172 and the flight was turbulent. Katie knows I don't like turbulence. She didn't say anything. She just put her hand on my shoulder to make sure I was OK.
I will post other things as I remember them. I love that kiddo!
Giving pre-race instructions before autocross race approx 4 years old.
Put your helmet on. Put your gloves on. Put your boots on. Go round and round really fast and come back and see me!
In Kindergarten:
You know... when you think your brain sparkles.
Disagreeing with the parents plans for the day (age 4 or so):
I don't like that plan!
Singing after realizing the dead battery on the Jeep was probably her fault:
Don't blame me, I didn't drain the battery.
After I had to replace my cell phone resulting with a great picture of Diamond Head being lost (note, she hadn't learned how to type or use a computer yet):
Its OK Mom. Just to to hawaiipictures.com, I'm sure they will have your picture there.
When daddy was talking about losing weight (Katie age 11 whispered to me):
I don't want daddy to lose weight. I don't want him to be a different person.
Not a quote but still cool... we were flying to Thunderhill in a Cessna 172 and the flight was turbulent. Katie knows I don't like turbulence. She didn't say anything. She just put her hand on my shoulder to make sure I was OK.
I will post other things as I remember them. I love that kiddo!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The week of listening dangerously
I highly recommend "The Years of Talking Dangerously" great book made up of commentaries mostly (wholly?) broadcast on NPR by Geoffrey Nunberg. Some how it seems even more fitting read of American culture and class and political struggle sitting in England than it is back home.
A little note on the Queen's English.
Here a "scheme" is just a plan or a programme back home it has more sinister connotations. Chips are French fries and crisps are chips (or did I get that backwards?) You put your luggage in a boot and your trash in a bin and your appointments in a diary. Toast is white or brown - not white or wheat. And you never put sweets and savory's on the same plate (still not sure what that means though I gave myself away as American by doing it!). Kit is hardware not a Transam. Not to mention, those zeds of American English are supposed to be s's.. not z's. Which is a PITA when you work in a specialization of optimization (or is that specialisation of optimisation?).
Warwick castle is pronounced "Warick" not "war-wick". Portsmouth is "portsmuth" not "ports-mouth" and Gosport is "gos-port" not "go-sport". Of course, maybe this is just a reflection of the people I am spending time with :) English accents are rather varied as well. Quite lovely to hear. I wonder if the variety of American accents are also pleasing to the ear (I doubt it).
"Brilliant!" usually does mean they really think it was a brilliant idea. "Lovely!" is also a good idea or plan/scheme. But, both terms can be used to indicate sarcastic intent. Another thing I noticed... um, Ummmmm, uMMMMmmmm, umhum and nuhum all mean different things. Tone tells you if its casual agreement, mild interest, intent interest, a positive yes, or negative no. I do like the "um" to indicate, "yes, I heard you and agree". I am happy my husband seems to be taking up the practice. It is better than silence or mild grunt.
It is nice being a relatively fresh ear in an ancient country. I hope I visit the UK many many times in the future... and I hope I never lose my appreciation for the sound of the Queen's English.
A little note on the Queen's English.
Here a "scheme" is just a plan or a programme back home it has more sinister connotations. Chips are French fries and crisps are chips (or did I get that backwards?) You put your luggage in a boot and your trash in a bin and your appointments in a diary. Toast is white or brown - not white or wheat. And you never put sweets and savory's on the same plate (still not sure what that means though I gave myself away as American by doing it!). Kit is hardware not a Transam. Not to mention, those zeds of American English are supposed to be s's.. not z's. Which is a PITA when you work in a specialization of optimization (or is that specialisation of optimisation?).
Warwick castle is pronounced "Warick" not "war-wick". Portsmouth is "portsmuth" not "ports-mouth" and Gosport is "gos-port" not "go-sport". Of course, maybe this is just a reflection of the people I am spending time with :) English accents are rather varied as well. Quite lovely to hear. I wonder if the variety of American accents are also pleasing to the ear (I doubt it).
"Brilliant!" usually does mean they really think it was a brilliant idea. "Lovely!" is also a good idea or plan/scheme. But, both terms can be used to indicate sarcastic intent. Another thing I noticed... um, Ummmmm, uMMMMmmmm, umhum and nuhum all mean different things. Tone tells you if its casual agreement, mild interest, intent interest, a positive yes, or negative no. I do like the "um" to indicate, "yes, I heard you and agree". I am happy my husband seems to be taking up the practice. It is better than silence or mild grunt.
It is nice being a relatively fresh ear in an ancient country. I hope I visit the UK many many times in the future... and I hope I never lose my appreciation for the sound of the Queen's English.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Run I did
yep... I put together a good week of running this week. Track Tuesday, weird not-quite-elliptical-thing Wednesday, Run Thursday, rest Friday, Run Saturday. Saturday was a particularly good run... was supposed to get up at o' dark 30 again, but my friend had to run later... so he asked if I wanted to run later. And I agreed (sleep is good and this friend runs closer to my pace). The sleep was good. This morning was the first time I got to wake up naturally (no alarms) and that was good.
The run was very cool... around the Lexington Reservoir. 12 miles total. Very hilly.. but very nice. It is good to feel like a runner again.
The run was very cool... around the Lexington Reservoir. 12 miles total. Very hilly.. but very nice. It is good to feel like a runner again.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Flares
We use a lot of flares in the Santa Cruz mountains... "we" in the royal sense of course.
Its a habit I picked up driving up and down the mountain road.... lit flares in/near the road means something blocking the road up ahead (around that blind turn). But its the burned out flares I see as I go up and down these mountain roads that are more interesting to the imagination. I see a burned out flare, then two, then three.. come around the blind turn... then there may be a scarred hillside, a telephone pole with extra duct tape holding it together... a fence down in someone's yard. Sometimes there's no sign at all but the remains of the flares. I have to wonder.. what happened here between the time I left for work and the time I've returned?
Usually I never know.
Its a habit I picked up driving up and down the mountain road.... lit flares in/near the road means something blocking the road up ahead (around that blind turn). But its the burned out flares I see as I go up and down these mountain roads that are more interesting to the imagination. I see a burned out flare, then two, then three.. come around the blind turn... then there may be a scarred hillside, a telephone pole with extra duct tape holding it together... a fence down in someone's yard. Sometimes there's no sign at all but the remains of the flares. I have to wonder.. what happened here between the time I left for work and the time I've returned?
Usually I never know.
Monday, February 15, 2010
The best Ice Dance ever..
or at least unless someone improves on it this year, but so far no one has:
Torvill & Dean's Ice Dance to Bolero. I remember watching this when I was 14... I'll never forget it.
Torvill & Dean's Ice Dance to Bolero. I remember watching this when I was 14... I'll never forget it.
Friday, February 5, 2010
and yet.. she continued on...
Ever wonder when too much really would become too much to bear? I wonder sometimes when my endurance will fail, when the stress will overwhelm me and I will be reduced to a gibbering pile of mush. This was one of those weeks.
It started off in depression... the prior week I got chewed out and used as a scapegoat for telling people something they already knew and were upset about. I almost quit (thought quite seriously regarding how to live off my 401k, how long before foreclosure, how to keep our money if we were foreclosed, etc.) but I didn't.
So Monday was depression... but I made it through, got home, immediately did a Wii Active and Wii Fit workout, and felt better. Kiddo has a hurt finger from wrestling with a friend, but seem to be "ok".
Tuesday, depression becomes numb, I got to work with some of the field, which I always enjoy. Numb really is best case for me at work most days. Katie's finger was still hurting. Scheduled an appt for her with the local doctor, but the earliest they could see her was Friday. Get home, she says she's hurting bad. So I take her to Urgent Care at 8:00 PM. We get home around 10. No exercise, McDonalds for supper. Little sleep.
Wednesday, more numb at work, more meetings and headaches. Kiddo calls and says she will take the 3pm bus home because she needs to print her homework assignment. Then she calls... no 3pm bus... she rides a different bus to her friend's house. This friend lives about half an hour further into the boonies than we do. Pick her up around 7PM, go shopping for superbowl party, get home around 8:30 or 9. Had to work a bit after getting home.
Thursday, work.. numb... good interactions with field. Meaningless meeting about stuff that has nothing to do with me.. until I get a call from the school principal. Katie having trouble with another student he says. (That was last week's other crisis). Talk to principal... blood pressure goes through the roof. Principal arranges mediated discussion between kid and friend. All turns out well. Principal calls again and lets me know. Relief. Time to go home, open a soda in my car... sprays ALL OVER the car. Clean that up. On the way home, blinding flashes ahead in the rain.. turns out the flashes are a tree falling across the highway 4 cars in front of me, power lines down, no one going anywhere. Pouring rain. Call 911, fortunately the BCFD is only 1/4 mile away.. they arrive, cut the downed tree and we're moving again in half an hour. Get home around 8. More work at night. Thursday was so busy all I ate was a couple 100 calorie packs of snacks.
Friday, work... not so numb, not happy. For some reason the service I'm developing has to provide more than any other service.. and what do I know about what CAP-P is? I never heard of it... neither have you right? F*ck. The field guys have to leave. Lower half of my face feels numb and tingly for part of the day.. heart racing... probably just stress. Then I get home at 6, just in time to test a tool release and validate it. Finish working around 8:30 PM.
The high point of the week was the field guys. And my brother seems to be doing well.
The low point of the week was most of the other stuff. Not to mention I feel like crap. Sniffles and sneezing for days now.
Glad the weekend is coming up... work laptop is off. Personal laptop is on. Hubby will be back, SuperBowl Sunday coming. I'm not going to run the race I was signed up for tomorrow.. it will be pouring rain and I don't want to run in the rain when I already feel like crap.
Next Monday I'm going to work late. If anyone asks, I have a doctor's appointment.
It started off in depression... the prior week I got chewed out and used as a scapegoat for telling people something they already knew and were upset about. I almost quit (thought quite seriously regarding how to live off my 401k, how long before foreclosure, how to keep our money if we were foreclosed, etc.) but I didn't.
So Monday was depression... but I made it through, got home, immediately did a Wii Active and Wii Fit workout, and felt better. Kiddo has a hurt finger from wrestling with a friend, but seem to be "ok".
Tuesday, depression becomes numb, I got to work with some of the field, which I always enjoy. Numb really is best case for me at work most days. Katie's finger was still hurting. Scheduled an appt for her with the local doctor, but the earliest they could see her was Friday. Get home, she says she's hurting bad. So I take her to Urgent Care at 8:00 PM. We get home around 10. No exercise, McDonalds for supper. Little sleep.
Wednesday, more numb at work, more meetings and headaches. Kiddo calls and says she will take the 3pm bus home because she needs to print her homework assignment. Then she calls... no 3pm bus... she rides a different bus to her friend's house. This friend lives about half an hour further into the boonies than we do. Pick her up around 7PM, go shopping for superbowl party, get home around 8:30 or 9. Had to work a bit after getting home.
Thursday, work.. numb... good interactions with field. Meaningless meeting about stuff that has nothing to do with me.. until I get a call from the school principal. Katie having trouble with another student he says. (That was last week's other crisis). Talk to principal... blood pressure goes through the roof. Principal arranges mediated discussion between kid and friend. All turns out well. Principal calls again and lets me know. Relief. Time to go home, open a soda in my car... sprays ALL OVER the car. Clean that up. On the way home, blinding flashes ahead in the rain.. turns out the flashes are a tree falling across the highway 4 cars in front of me, power lines down, no one going anywhere. Pouring rain. Call 911, fortunately the BCFD is only 1/4 mile away.. they arrive, cut the downed tree and we're moving again in half an hour. Get home around 8. More work at night. Thursday was so busy all I ate was a couple 100 calorie packs of snacks.
Friday, work... not so numb, not happy. For some reason the service I'm developing has to provide more than any other service.. and what do I know about what CAP-P is? I never heard of it... neither have you right? F*ck. The field guys have to leave. Lower half of my face feels numb and tingly for part of the day.. heart racing... probably just stress. Then I get home at 6, just in time to test a tool release and validate it. Finish working around 8:30 PM.
The high point of the week was the field guys. And my brother seems to be doing well.
The low point of the week was most of the other stuff. Not to mention I feel like crap. Sniffles and sneezing for days now.
Glad the weekend is coming up... work laptop is off. Personal laptop is on. Hubby will be back, SuperBowl Sunday coming. I'm not going to run the race I was signed up for tomorrow.. it will be pouring rain and I don't want to run in the rain when I already feel like crap.
Next Monday I'm going to work late. If anyone asks, I have a doctor's appointment.
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