Today was a big day. Nathaniel had his first day of school. Kara and I had been prepping him for months, talking about it, getting him excited. And he was.
The excitement was really evident when he and Kara went out for some school shopping. Nathaniel got two complete new outfits of some nice jeans and shirts and a new hat. So that combined with the wicked cool Spiderman backpack his Grampy Lang got for him and his new Spiderman lunch box he was all set.
Last night I set my travel alarm clock for him for 6:45, he thought that was really cool! So with his lunch made, and clothes laid out (with Spiderman boxers and socks) he was all set. He went to bed around 8:30, and may have finally been asleep by ten!!!!
The clock in my room said 6:44 when Nathaniel came in with an energetic and infectious, “I’m up!”
“Go get dressed.” said mom. Footsteps. Thirty nanoseconds later footsteps back, then he begins dragging the blanket off the bed. He was dressed in his hat, his sneakers, and his backpack.
“Go downstairs.” said dad. Footsteps. Front door opens. Dad jumps up, “get in here you need to have breakfast!!” Door opens, closes, footsteps.
“Can you make me breakfast?” Nathaniel asks.
I don’t think he was excited at all.
A short time thereafter, (after coffee) Mom, Dad, Raven, and Sophia (complete in new rubber boots and a backpack to be like Bubba) walk Nathaniel to school. The mosquitoes were horrible.
Once there, Kara takes Nathaniel inside to find his classroom. That left me with one obedient thing and one thing running around sniffing people. Yep Raven just sat there at my feet. Just kidding.
But it was weird; I was in uniform, as I had to go to work right after. So I had a crowd of twenty kids, boys asking “Are you ARMY?” Girls asking “Can I pet your dog.” I felt like the Pied Piper….
Well all in all it went well, apparently he had fun and wants to go back. My little guy is still little, but he’s getting there. I am really proud of him. And I am proud of his mom, for not crying….
I am sure there will be many stories to follow.
7.9.06
3.9.06
A Nice Sunday Bike Ride
I start this little monologue with a note on how out of touch fitness wise I have been for the last little while.
I had plans to run a full marathon in November in Moncton. Then as everyone knows, and a point I have belabored a bit too much, my professional life stepped up and said no. That’s cool, but I totally stepped ff the healthy bus for a while. Started eating poorly again with the excuse that I was busy, I started skipping runs, with the excuse that I was busy. The spiral continues but I think you and I get the point.
So, as things happen it seems that I will get the opportunity to go home for Thanksgiving, and the Valley harvest Marathon (and Half) are happening that weekend. For all kinds of reasons, personal pride, Kara, fellow Maniacs going I decided to get off the downward escalator and get on the one going back up.
I have started running again, and have been following a schedule again. And today I had a ten-twelve km planned.
I told you all that to tell you this.
I have had few days since I became a runner that I have woke up and truly felt that I didn’t want to run. Even days with injuries, days with no time, whatever I usually still felt like running. Today, nope. Maybe my body finally said, “Listen jackass, you are eating crap and were working continuous 16 hour days, NO running, that means you.”
So. I didn’t run, didn’t even dig out my running gear. Then I proceeded to feel restless and snappy all day. I busied myself round the house with little tasks and stuff. But the mood persisted.
Then on a whim I changed my clothes into some workout clothes and jumped on my bike, and started pedaling. Now I did do some planning. I filled my water bottle, had a quick snack, and drank a little water. I planned a route, well, sort of. I had a general idea of where I wanted to go, and considering my familiarity with this area I took this as a good opportunity to learn the area. I am so dumb.
I left and figured at most with the route I wanted to follow I would do about 15km, by far the longest ride I had done since reacquainting myself with the bike. The first warning sign should have been the sign that said “Salisbury 11km”, but maybe I was so frustrated by the continuous rolling hills. There was nary a level patch, I was either on a down slope or climbing a damn slope. I was changing gears more than the Red Sox change second basemen.
It was when I climbed the hill that housed the sign that said, “Welcome to Salisbury” That I realized I might have missed my turn…
I transitioned from the pavement to dirt to pavement at one point coming into and realized I had been shot. I hadn’t heard it, but I felt it. Right above my right bum cheek. Maybe the locals didn’t like bikers…kind of an Easy Rider thing. It paralyzed me for a short time. That’s when I decided I would backtrack to a payphone and call Kara. This I did do. And after I got off the phone I must have looked silly trying to find the pins that were sticking up through the seat into my ass. Never found them, or the shooter.
I figured with Kara coming as a knight in a shining Windstar I would back track and meet up with her. This I did do, it took a little while for me to work the kinks out but then I started to make some good time.
A short time later I was rescued, and mercilessly tortured by my son…ahhhh.
Kara and I backtracked to my turnaround point and clocked the distance. Apparently I made it 8 km back from my turnaround. All in all, I traveled exactly 30 km in 90 minutes. Much more than I thought possible at this stage in the game.
Well I must go, I am going to be surfing the internet for walkers.
I had plans to run a full marathon in November in Moncton. Then as everyone knows, and a point I have belabored a bit too much, my professional life stepped up and said no. That’s cool, but I totally stepped ff the healthy bus for a while. Started eating poorly again with the excuse that I was busy, I started skipping runs, with the excuse that I was busy. The spiral continues but I think you and I get the point.
So, as things happen it seems that I will get the opportunity to go home for Thanksgiving, and the Valley harvest Marathon (and Half) are happening that weekend. For all kinds of reasons, personal pride, Kara, fellow Maniacs going I decided to get off the downward escalator and get on the one going back up.
I have started running again, and have been following a schedule again. And today I had a ten-twelve km planned.
I told you all that to tell you this.
I have had few days since I became a runner that I have woke up and truly felt that I didn’t want to run. Even days with injuries, days with no time, whatever I usually still felt like running. Today, nope. Maybe my body finally said, “Listen jackass, you are eating crap and were working continuous 16 hour days, NO running, that means you.”
So. I didn’t run, didn’t even dig out my running gear. Then I proceeded to feel restless and snappy all day. I busied myself round the house with little tasks and stuff. But the mood persisted.
Then on a whim I changed my clothes into some workout clothes and jumped on my bike, and started pedaling. Now I did do some planning. I filled my water bottle, had a quick snack, and drank a little water. I planned a route, well, sort of. I had a general idea of where I wanted to go, and considering my familiarity with this area I took this as a good opportunity to learn the area. I am so dumb.
I left and figured at most with the route I wanted to follow I would do about 15km, by far the longest ride I had done since reacquainting myself with the bike. The first warning sign should have been the sign that said “Salisbury 11km”, but maybe I was so frustrated by the continuous rolling hills. There was nary a level patch, I was either on a down slope or climbing a damn slope. I was changing gears more than the Red Sox change second basemen.
It was when I climbed the hill that housed the sign that said, “Welcome to Salisbury” That I realized I might have missed my turn…
I transitioned from the pavement to dirt to pavement at one point coming into and realized I had been shot. I hadn’t heard it, but I felt it. Right above my right bum cheek. Maybe the locals didn’t like bikers…kind of an Easy Rider thing. It paralyzed me for a short time. That’s when I decided I would backtrack to a payphone and call Kara. This I did do. And after I got off the phone I must have looked silly trying to find the pins that were sticking up through the seat into my ass. Never found them, or the shooter.
I figured with Kara coming as a knight in a shining Windstar I would back track and meet up with her. This I did do, it took a little while for me to work the kinks out but then I started to make some good time.
A short time later I was rescued, and mercilessly tortured by my son…ahhhh.
Kara and I backtracked to my turnaround point and clocked the distance. Apparently I made it 8 km back from my turnaround. All in all, I traveled exactly 30 km in 90 minutes. Much more than I thought possible at this stage in the game.
Well I must go, I am going to be surfing the internet for walkers.
1.9.06
Home Again.
Hey Folks.
Back home again for a couple weeks. Was in Gagetown again for another exercise. The highlight of whch was getting to see the new Nyala up close and personal, what a huge vehicle...I want one!!!!
Yesterday Kara had her Root Canal done. Nothing serious, got to watch the whole thing, that was kinda neat.
My parents are in town for couple of days, checking out our new place, them seem to like it and the neighbourhood.
Running is going well, planning on being in NS for Thanksgiving and run the Valley Harvest 1/2. Good time to see all the family as it will be my last free time til Christams with deployment thereafter
Have fun y'all talk to you soon
19.8.06
$0.02 (response to an RM post)
I've weighed in on this topic before, though I 'm not going to wade through the search function and find what I've said I will make an effort to throw out a Readers Digest Version of my thoughts.
Please forgive me, I am writing this after an extended time from home, after an extended time awake, with 40 hours before I leave to do it again. (That was not a sympathy/empathy ploy, those are facts, those of us who will be in Afghanistan in the new year for six months are already up to our necks living and breathing the training and prepartation to get there.) Not supporting "the war" is a personal and political decision, based on whatever factors make up your character and make you Canadian. And as a voter you can have a say. (as a soldier with 27 years in said to me recently "Don't like it, vote Liberal in a couple of months, they'll bring us home and remind everyone why it was a mistake, though everyone will have forgotten it was they who sent us...")
But supporting the Troops is also a personal decision based on whatever factors make up your character and make you Canadian. It can be as simple as not spitting on a Canadian soldier in an airport, or as simple as helping line the road leading to the base with yellow ribbons as they come home.
some one on RM wrote:
Personally, and maybe this is due to a lack of understanding, I don't support the 'war' in Afghanistan (surprised?). I remember hearing that more Canadian soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan now than in any other war since WWII. Please correct me if I'm wrong. Why are we fighting insurgency in Afghanistan? What good are we accomplishing there? What cause are Canadians dying for? Who benefits from winning this war? Is it even possible to win?
The mission statement of the Candian Troops in Afghanistan has never wavered, we are there to add credibility and stability to the governing authority in the country of Afghanistan. Not warfighting. Yes we are trained to kick ass, and take names. And in the Wild West environment of Afghanistan that is a necessary thing, and it is a damn good thing that we are good at it.
But we are also damn good at building schools, building infrastructure. We are not just fighting "an insurgency" (a little anti-US/IRAQ shading there) We are fighting an established terrorist regime, with skewed views of Islamic Law, and we are also fighting entrenched criminals and war lords who have profitted from the civil turmoil that has plagued Afghanistan for decades and who have kept the majority of the population dirt poor. We as a respected and established HAVE country are providing opportunity for impoverished have-nots. We, as soldiers, believe in these ideals as it is one thing we cherish about Canada, and I don't think we have the morale high ground to let some casulaites take that away from others.
Who benefits? The 6 year old girl who goes to school for the first time and learns how to read. The fifty year old woman who will get to vote for the first time in her life and be treated as a human. The thrity year old mechanic who gets to do what he is trained to do because for so long there was no way for him to do, and he can finally support his family. Who benefits? Canadians, we can say once Afghanistan takes fledgling steps as a recovering nation and we can say, yeah, we did that...
They wrote:
It seems counterproductive to fight religious fundamentalism with violence. Attacking the insurgents just seems to create a martyr complex which breeds more violence. Do Afghanis even want a democracy? I can think of 10 African countries who'd be better served by a peacekeeping force, or an installation of democracy.
Peacekeeping is dead. We are no longer in between equally strong sides and keeping them apart. We are peacemakers, by whatever means necessary. We are popluar in Afghanistan, average joe Afghan likes us and wants us there beacuse of what we mean. I don't know if Afghanistan wants democracy. They want freedom to pray the way they want and feed their children.
And you don't stop religious fanaticism by asking nice. You do whatever necessary to stop, interdict, and disrupt their operations, physically, and ideologically. As leaders we do not want to send our troops out into sustained combat because it is destructive not constructive, and there is more chance for body bags coming home. But sometimes you have to call a spade a spade and throat punch someone.
they wrote:
That said, I don't support our troops because our troops are enacting a mission I can't support. I empathize with the families and the soldiers themselves. I pray for the safe return of every soldier overseas. I wish Canadians weren't dying (seemingly) in vain. If there's a good reason that we're at war in Afghanistan, fill me in.
We are in Afghanistan because I believe we have a morale obligation to assist an impoverished society that has asked for our support. And because we can. I don't care if you support us, though I'd like you to. Just as long as you remember that politicians and the public choose our missions, we freely choose the lifestyle. /steps off soapbox/
Please forgive me, I am writing this after an extended time from home, after an extended time awake, with 40 hours before I leave to do it again. (That was not a sympathy/empathy ploy, those are facts, those of us who will be in Afghanistan in the new year for six months are already up to our necks living and breathing the training and prepartation to get there.) Not supporting "the war" is a personal and political decision, based on whatever factors make up your character and make you Canadian. And as a voter you can have a say. (as a soldier with 27 years in said to me recently "Don't like it, vote Liberal in a couple of months, they'll bring us home and remind everyone why it was a mistake, though everyone will have forgotten it was they who sent us...")
But supporting the Troops is also a personal decision based on whatever factors make up your character and make you Canadian. It can be as simple as not spitting on a Canadian soldier in an airport, or as simple as helping line the road leading to the base with yellow ribbons as they come home.
some one on RM wrote:
Personally, and maybe this is due to a lack of understanding, I don't support the 'war' in Afghanistan (surprised?). I remember hearing that more Canadian soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan now than in any other war since WWII. Please correct me if I'm wrong. Why are we fighting insurgency in Afghanistan? What good are we accomplishing there? What cause are Canadians dying for? Who benefits from winning this war? Is it even possible to win?
The mission statement of the Candian Troops in Afghanistan has never wavered, we are there to add credibility and stability to the governing authority in the country of Afghanistan. Not warfighting. Yes we are trained to kick ass, and take names. And in the Wild West environment of Afghanistan that is a necessary thing, and it is a damn good thing that we are good at it.
But we are also damn good at building schools, building infrastructure. We are not just fighting "an insurgency" (a little anti-US/IRAQ shading there) We are fighting an established terrorist regime, with skewed views of Islamic Law, and we are also fighting entrenched criminals and war lords who have profitted from the civil turmoil that has plagued Afghanistan for decades and who have kept the majority of the population dirt poor. We as a respected and established HAVE country are providing opportunity for impoverished have-nots. We, as soldiers, believe in these ideals as it is one thing we cherish about Canada, and I don't think we have the morale high ground to let some casulaites take that away from others.
Who benefits? The 6 year old girl who goes to school for the first time and learns how to read. The fifty year old woman who will get to vote for the first time in her life and be treated as a human. The thrity year old mechanic who gets to do what he is trained to do because for so long there was no way for him to do, and he can finally support his family. Who benefits? Canadians, we can say once Afghanistan takes fledgling steps as a recovering nation and we can say, yeah, we did that...
They wrote:
It seems counterproductive to fight religious fundamentalism with violence. Attacking the insurgents just seems to create a martyr complex which breeds more violence. Do Afghanis even want a democracy? I can think of 10 African countries who'd be better served by a peacekeeping force, or an installation of democracy.
Peacekeeping is dead. We are no longer in between equally strong sides and keeping them apart. We are peacemakers, by whatever means necessary. We are popluar in Afghanistan, average joe Afghan likes us and wants us there beacuse of what we mean. I don't know if Afghanistan wants democracy. They want freedom to pray the way they want and feed their children.
And you don't stop religious fanaticism by asking nice. You do whatever necessary to stop, interdict, and disrupt their operations, physically, and ideologically. As leaders we do not want to send our troops out into sustained combat because it is destructive not constructive, and there is more chance for body bags coming home. But sometimes you have to call a spade a spade and throat punch someone.
they wrote:
That said, I don't support our troops because our troops are enacting a mission I can't support. I empathize with the families and the soldiers themselves. I pray for the safe return of every soldier overseas. I wish Canadians weren't dying (seemingly) in vain. If there's a good reason that we're at war in Afghanistan, fill me in.
We are in Afghanistan because I believe we have a morale obligation to assist an impoverished society that has asked for our support. And because we can. I don't care if you support us, though I'd like you to. Just as long as you remember that politicians and the public choose our missions, we freely choose the lifestyle. /steps off soapbox/
12.8.06
zen moment
Religion is not just some dry intellectual idea but rather your basic philosophy of life: you hear a teaching that makes sense to you, find through experience that it relates positively with your psychological makeup, get a real taste of it through practice, and adopt it as your spiritual path. That's the right way to enter the spiritual path.
We are not compelled to meditate by some outside agent, by other people, or by God.Rather, just as we are responsible for our own suffering, so are we solely responsible for our own cure. We have created the situation in which we find ourselves, and it is up to us to create the circumstances for our release.
Lama Yeshe
Please comment.
The photo of Buddha with View by Sean Duggan was found on the following website, which contains a heck of a lot of other interesting, and amazing photos. http://www.f1point4.com/f1point4/toy_camera/index.html
The day before I go away.
Hey faithful readers...
It's Saturday and it is the day before I go away for two weeks to be involved in two separate, yet related exercises as part of TF1-07, (Task Force 1-07). As always I am excited, yet that is tempered by the fact that I will be away. It is excellent to be a part of a training scenario where shortfalls and lack thereofs are not things to be accounted for and accepted, but are attacked and if the exact thing is not readily available SOMETHING is made available. Really weird because the whole previous time with any training, whether as trainee or trainer we went without.
The fact that I am plugging into 2RCR Battle Group HQ and being useful is really good and has become quite real.
Recently, asI mentioned it in a previous post, I bought a bike. It is a KHS Westwood 19inch. Here: http://www.khscanada.com/v2/bikeview.php?id=335
The good news/ bad news/ and the no-so-bad-I-can-live-with-it..
Good news, I got it for less than the MSRP (taxes in) and I got a kickstand and water bottle/holder too. It is a nice comfortable bike, and it is very lightweight and mechanically seems pretty good. It will be the ideal bike for commuting to and from work...When I am in Moncton to do that...Ha-ha- *sigh*
Bad news, I was originally looking for bike that I could participate (comPLete, not coMPete) in a duathlon or two once I got home and had some time in the saddle. And I knew that beginners often used whatever they had. I had nothing, So I stayed away from the Mountain Bike side of the House and got something with "big thin tires" I know that may sound stupid, but I've ridden nothing but a unicycle for the last five years. So I got what I thought would be an ideal starter bike. Well, I do have a friend who was a semipro racer who scolded me saying that the bike is totally inadequate.
The result... I have decided to live with this bike, which is cool because it is still a work out for my legs and it is comfortable to ride on. Both good things to re-initiate me to two wheeled self-powered transportation. Also, the handlebars and seat are fully adjustable. So I was able to lower my grips forward and elevate my seat to make the riding position a bit more "aggressive" and "workout like".
As I said this bike is a really nice commuter bike, and Moncton seems to be pretty bicycle friendly, and I could likely get to just about anywhere in the city relatively easily and relatively quick, I like that. Especially with gas prices, and the fact that Nathaniel is getting better on his bike and is harder to keep up with now. So hopefully, upon my return we could bike together.
The ultimate plan (right now) is to make due with what I have (and I am not complaining I like what I have) and then upon my return I'll give some Du's a tri...*groan* and then maybe spend a couple grand on an entry level triathlon bike.
Til next time....(see you ina couple weeks)...
OH, and for those who usually email me at work or those who want to email me, I lost my entire contacts list recently so I have none of your email addys...so please please, lang.sm@forces.gc.ca... I want to keep in touch with you all at home and abroad...
It's Saturday and it is the day before I go away for two weeks to be involved in two separate, yet related exercises as part of TF1-07, (Task Force 1-07). As always I am excited, yet that is tempered by the fact that I will be away. It is excellent to be a part of a training scenario where shortfalls and lack thereofs are not things to be accounted for and accepted, but are attacked and if the exact thing is not readily available SOMETHING is made available. Really weird because the whole previous time with any training, whether as trainee or trainer we went without.
The fact that I am plugging into 2RCR Battle Group HQ and being useful is really good and has become quite real.
Recently, asI mentioned it in a previous post, I bought a bike. It is a KHS Westwood 19inch. Here: http://www.khscanada.com/v2/bikeview.php?id=335
The good news/ bad news/ and the no-so-bad-I-can-live-with-it..
Good news, I got it for less than the MSRP (taxes in) and I got a kickstand and water bottle/holder too. It is a nice comfortable bike, and it is very lightweight and mechanically seems pretty good. It will be the ideal bike for commuting to and from work...When I am in Moncton to do that...Ha-ha- *sigh*
Bad news, I was originally looking for bike that I could participate (comPLete, not coMPete) in a duathlon or two once I got home and had some time in the saddle. And I knew that beginners often used whatever they had. I had nothing, So I stayed away from the Mountain Bike side of the House and got something with "big thin tires" I know that may sound stupid, but I've ridden nothing but a unicycle for the last five years. So I got what I thought would be an ideal starter bike. Well, I do have a friend who was a semipro racer who scolded me saying that the bike is totally inadequate.
The result... I have decided to live with this bike, which is cool because it is still a work out for my legs and it is comfortable to ride on. Both good things to re-initiate me to two wheeled self-powered transportation. Also, the handlebars and seat are fully adjustable. So I was able to lower my grips forward and elevate my seat to make the riding position a bit more "aggressive" and "workout like".
As I said this bike is a really nice commuter bike, and Moncton seems to be pretty bicycle friendly, and I could likely get to just about anywhere in the city relatively easily and relatively quick, I like that. Especially with gas prices, and the fact that Nathaniel is getting better on his bike and is harder to keep up with now. So hopefully, upon my return we could bike together.
The ultimate plan (right now) is to make due with what I have (and I am not complaining I like what I have) and then upon my return I'll give some Du's a tri...*groan* and then maybe spend a couple grand on an entry level triathlon bike.
Til next time....(see you ina couple weeks)...
OH, and for those who usually email me at work or those who want to email me, I lost my entire contacts list recently so I have none of your email addys...so please please, lang.sm@forces.gc.ca... I want to keep in touch with you all at home and abroad...
5.8.06
UPDATE
Well, it has been a heckuva long time since I updated anything…so as quick cheat sheet/ Readers’ Digest version of the last month: here goes…
Conveniently broken down into bite size chucks, divided into categories.
THE MOVE-
For all intents and purposes the move is complete, and it was a moderate to genuine success.
Kara and I got in to paint and bring some life to the institutional white walls. Decorating took a little time to get things the way we wanted it. Good thing we discussed a lot of it in advance.
We have recently added a new (enormous) desk to our office, and a new armoire. Specifics may follow if I get time.
THE NEIGHBOUHOOD-
Is outstanding, those of you who have been privy to the stories know that for the past four years our immediate neighbors in Gagetown were an absolute pain in the ass. I would have rathered been living next to a sewage treatment facility full of vipers.
The kids (and Kara) have definitely assimilated themselves into the area…and though the street out front is busy by local standards it is like an rarely traveled footpath compared to the ol’ neck o’ the woods.
All is good.
MY TRAINING-
Sadly, I have abandoned my ‘marathon is ‘06’ thoughts. Workup training for TF 1-07 is too demanding and unpredictable (even in it’s micro managed planning status) to allow me to dedicate the time required to meet such a goal…
However, my running continues, and I am trying to sustain runs and a ‘training schedule’ that would still leave me able to compete in a 10km race with little prep time, or a Half marathon (21km) on short notice. This includes one long run a week 9-13 km, whatever I can swing. Plus two shorter higher intensity runs, either speed work or tempo style runs…
Also I bought a bike yesterday, is a hybrid style bike. It is not a road bike, not a mountain bike. It has fairly big thin wheels and a lightweight frame. My primary intent is to commute to work, but also go out and pound the roads a couple times a week when I can… Start my Duathalon training as quick as I can.
MY OTHER TRAINING
I started officially training with the 2RCR Battle Group last week. It was the first time all the players had come together to for the command element that will be deploying in ’07.. It was a great experience, many lessons learned and I look forward to the coming months…
MY WRITING
Yeah, my writing, while on leave I wrote about five short stories and sketched out some more. I’m letting them sit before I go back and review them…Any one interested in giving them a read….?
That’s all for know. Specifics will come as I think of them.
Conveniently broken down into bite size chucks, divided into categories.
THE MOVE-
For all intents and purposes the move is complete, and it was a moderate to genuine success.
Kara and I got in to paint and bring some life to the institutional white walls. Decorating took a little time to get things the way we wanted it. Good thing we discussed a lot of it in advance.
We have recently added a new (enormous) desk to our office, and a new armoire. Specifics may follow if I get time.
THE NEIGHBOUHOOD-
Is outstanding, those of you who have been privy to the stories know that for the past four years our immediate neighbors in Gagetown were an absolute pain in the ass. I would have rathered been living next to a sewage treatment facility full of vipers.
The kids (and Kara) have definitely assimilated themselves into the area…and though the street out front is busy by local standards it is like an rarely traveled footpath compared to the ol’ neck o’ the woods.
All is good.
MY TRAINING-
Sadly, I have abandoned my ‘marathon is ‘06’ thoughts. Workup training for TF 1-07 is too demanding and unpredictable (even in it’s micro managed planning status) to allow me to dedicate the time required to meet such a goal…
However, my running continues, and I am trying to sustain runs and a ‘training schedule’ that would still leave me able to compete in a 10km race with little prep time, or a Half marathon (21km) on short notice. This includes one long run a week 9-13 km, whatever I can swing. Plus two shorter higher intensity runs, either speed work or tempo style runs…
Also I bought a bike yesterday, is a hybrid style bike. It is not a road bike, not a mountain bike. It has fairly big thin wheels and a lightweight frame. My primary intent is to commute to work, but also go out and pound the roads a couple times a week when I can… Start my Duathalon training as quick as I can.
MY OTHER TRAINING
I started officially training with the 2RCR Battle Group last week. It was the first time all the players had come together to for the command element that will be deploying in ’07.. It was a great experience, many lessons learned and I look forward to the coming months…
MY WRITING
Yeah, my writing, while on leave I wrote about five short stories and sketched out some more. I’m letting them sit before I go back and review them…Any one interested in giving them a read….?
That’s all for know. Specifics will come as I think of them.
30.6.06
I'm gonna give it a shot.
Training for a marathon that is.
With the Help of HCD (HardCoreDuathlete), or Andy from RM, I have a plan.
My planned marathon debut will be 5 November in Moncton, the Legs for Literacy Marathon.
There is the possibility that this dream/ goal will go nowhere as September and October are brutally full of workup training for deployment. But I will do what i can to meet the training requirements...si non...I will have a great 1/2 then...
Here is the plan.
Week of July 16 - 22
Sunday: 11-13K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 20 minutes @ Tempo
Week of July 23 - 29
Sunday: 12-14K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 25 minutes @ Tempo
Week of July 30 - August 5
Sunday: 13-15K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 30 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 6 - 13
Sunday: 15-17K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 35 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 14 - 20 (Fall Back Week)
Sunday: 11-13K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 20 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 21 - August 27
Sunday: 18-20K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 35 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 28 - September 2
Sunday: 21-23K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 35 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 3 - 9
Sunday: 23-25K LSD
Tuesday: 6x Hills or 6x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 405 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 10 - 16
Sunday: 25-27K LSD
Tuesday: 6x Hills or 6x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 40 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 17 - 23 (Fall Back Week)
Sunday: 12-14K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 20 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 24 - 30
Sunday: 27-29K LSD
Tuesday: 7x Hills or 7x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 45 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 1 - 7
Sunday: 28-30K LSD
Tuesday: 7x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 50 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 8 -14
Sunday: 32K LSD
Tuesday: 8x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 55 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 15 -21 (Fall Back Week)
Sunday: 13-15K LSD
Tuesday: 4x 800m and 4x 400m
Thursday: 30 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 22 -28
Sunday: 32-34K LSD
Tuesday: 4x 800m or 4x 400 repeats
Thursday: 45 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 29 - November 4
Sunday: 15K LSD
Tuesday: 45 minute Easy Run w/4-5x 30sec pickups
Thursday: 30 minute Easy run w/3-4x 20-30sec pickups
Week of November 5
Sunday: Marathon Day
With the Help of HCD (HardCoreDuathlete), or Andy from RM, I have a plan.
My planned marathon debut will be 5 November in Moncton, the Legs for Literacy Marathon.
There is the possibility that this dream/ goal will go nowhere as September and October are brutally full of workup training for deployment. But I will do what i can to meet the training requirements...si non...I will have a great 1/2 then...
Here is the plan.
Week of July 16 - 22
Sunday: 11-13K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 20 minutes @ Tempo
Week of July 23 - 29
Sunday: 12-14K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 25 minutes @ Tempo
Week of July 30 - August 5
Sunday: 13-15K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 30 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 6 - 13
Sunday: 15-17K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 35 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 14 - 20 (Fall Back Week)
Sunday: 11-13K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 20 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 21 - August 27
Sunday: 18-20K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 35 minutes @ Tempo
Week of August 28 - September 2
Sunday: 21-23K LSD
Tuesday: 5x Hills or 5x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 35 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 3 - 9
Sunday: 23-25K LSD
Tuesday: 6x Hills or 6x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 405 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 10 - 16
Sunday: 25-27K LSD
Tuesday: 6x Hills or 6x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 40 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 17 - 23 (Fall Back Week)
Sunday: 12-14K LSD
Tuesday: 4x Hills or 4x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 20 minutes @ Tempo
Week of September 24 - 30
Sunday: 27-29K LSD
Tuesday: 7x Hills or 7x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 45 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 1 - 7
Sunday: 28-30K LSD
Tuesday: 7x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 50 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 8 -14
Sunday: 32K LSD
Tuesday: 8x 1 mile repeats
Thursday: 55 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 15 -21 (Fall Back Week)
Sunday: 13-15K LSD
Tuesday: 4x 800m and 4x 400m
Thursday: 30 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 22 -28
Sunday: 32-34K LSD
Tuesday: 4x 800m or 4x 400 repeats
Thursday: 45 minutes @ Tempo
Week of October 29 - November 4
Sunday: 15K LSD
Tuesday: 45 minute Easy Run w/4-5x 30sec pickups
Thursday: 30 minute Easy run w/3-4x 20-30sec pickups
Week of November 5
Sunday: Marathon Day
27.6.06
A Rookie Runners Paradox.
Obviously I have not posted with great regularity as of late. Mostly as a result of my participation in a seven week course that begins the lead up to my deployment to Afghanistan in 07.
As I look at the history of my recent posts they are predominantly running based, and this shall be no exception. Though this will not be a race report but a commentary on running.
I begin by mentioning that I have been a runner for just shy of a year, and I have completed a couple 10k, one Half marathon, and participated in the CTRR. I do have some running goals for the future, CTRR 07, Full Marathon…etc. I feel comfortable in stating that running has become indoctrinated into my everyday life and is an official pastime.
However, during the aftermath of my last event I realized that my response to my results were, well, in a word…schizophrenic, or paradoxical. I am at once thrilled by the result; I felt I ran well, despite my belief I was not fully mentally prepared to run the event. I know that any running accomplishment that occurs these days trumps any previous running (with there is little of) and is becoming a second highlight reel in the history of Scotty’s Athletic Career. For these reasons I am content, I am happy, I am healthy.
However, it is when I compare the results of myself as an individual to those of the others who compete in the same event, or who are my age, and run similar events. As happy as I am with my running I am not ignorant of the fact that I consistently finish on the south side of half. And in no way what so ever am I a competitive runner. Which in itself, semantically, is a paradox because I am extremely competitive by nature.
This is where my problems begin I find myself discouraged by these truths. Before you think me insane I know I will never win an event I do not have the time, talent, or discipline to achieve this. I would simply like to be a “good” runner, on the north side of half…
I am at the same time proud that I achieved another PB on my latest 10k, yet realistic enough to know that it is only my third real 10k event, and I have likely yet to plateau so it is almost an unfair celebration.
The questions this leaves me with are:
Will I ever be faster? How fast can I be?
Is my running ability/ fitness still in its immaturity, and therefore hard to say?
How much faster would I be 15-20lbs lighter?
There are more questions but you get my gist…And I have no means by which to answer these questions.
The morale of this rambling monologue boils down to…I have some running goals, but I do not know how to temper my expectations.
I would hope that these are fears and questions that many new runners have experienced…and that there is some sage wisdom out there among the masses to allay these fears…
As I look at the history of my recent posts they are predominantly running based, and this shall be no exception. Though this will not be a race report but a commentary on running.
I begin by mentioning that I have been a runner for just shy of a year, and I have completed a couple 10k, one Half marathon, and participated in the CTRR. I do have some running goals for the future, CTRR 07, Full Marathon…etc. I feel comfortable in stating that running has become indoctrinated into my everyday life and is an official pastime.
However, during the aftermath of my last event I realized that my response to my results were, well, in a word…schizophrenic, or paradoxical. I am at once thrilled by the result; I felt I ran well, despite my belief I was not fully mentally prepared to run the event. I know that any running accomplishment that occurs these days trumps any previous running (with there is little of) and is becoming a second highlight reel in the history of Scotty’s Athletic Career. For these reasons I am content, I am happy, I am healthy.
However, it is when I compare the results of myself as an individual to those of the others who compete in the same event, or who are my age, and run similar events. As happy as I am with my running I am not ignorant of the fact that I consistently finish on the south side of half. And in no way what so ever am I a competitive runner. Which in itself, semantically, is a paradox because I am extremely competitive by nature.
This is where my problems begin I find myself discouraged by these truths. Before you think me insane I know I will never win an event I do not have the time, talent, or discipline to achieve this. I would simply like to be a “good” runner, on the north side of half…
I am at the same time proud that I achieved another PB on my latest 10k, yet realistic enough to know that it is only my third real 10k event, and I have likely yet to plateau so it is almost an unfair celebration.
The questions this leaves me with are:
Will I ever be faster? How fast can I be?
Is my running ability/ fitness still in its immaturity, and therefore hard to say?
How much faster would I be 15-20lbs lighter?
There are more questions but you get my gist…And I have no means by which to answer these questions.
The morale of this rambling monologue boils down to…I have some running goals, but I do not know how to temper my expectations.
I would hope that these are fears and questions that many new runners have experienced…and that there is some sage wisdom out there among the masses to allay these fears…
24.6.06
VOLUNTARY Army 10k
*fade from orange* This was a really odd run/ race/ event for me. Foreward (and forewarned) For one, when I arrived I realized “hm, I’m not really ready for this.” The past week went by in a blur and Saturday morning arrived in a rude heap. I must say I had the best of intentions of doing three weeks of disciplined runs to get myself in the mindset for this event after CTRR. Oops. Silly me shoulda thought a little bit harder on that one. Let’s see… Week one, I was in the Field. (It is amazing how hilarious a vicious thunderstorm, torrential downpour and category 4 winds can be at 0230 Wednesday night…) Week two, final exercise for the course I was on…did get a couple o’ runs in. Week three, house hunting trip / honeymoon in Moncton. One run… After my arrival, and then I finally realized I had to run in less than an hour. And I got nervous. And I did not know what to do. I had never gotten nervous before. Maybe it was the home field “advantage” I had. The run was going to be on the trails I train on. Maybe it was the fact that I felt maybe as an ARMY guy at the ARMY 10k I had to be ARMY-ish? or maybe it was the fact that the last time I did a 10k event on these trails it was a horrible experience. *cue transitional music* (sappy retrospective) The year was 2004, October. I was on my final phase training course when they came in and said. “Ok, everyone will be doing the Terry Fox 10km next week” I was a bit heavier, much less a runner and sat there in freshly soiled combats with a stunned look on my face. Great. It was as embarrassing as I thought it would be, gasp, wheeze, I sprinted I walked, gasp, I lumbered, and staggered across the finish line at 1:04:xx. But it was great (sarcastic) my course was waiting for me, and most of my friends were still there. To my credit I still came in closer to the middle than the back…well, ish. That run taught me something. I was fat. I had convinced myself I was in shape…(and on some comparative scales it was arguable that I was). Shorter after I joined Jaimer and Scadian on there Fredericton 2005 Half quest. Which lasted about ten runs, as I had an operation scheduled a month before the event, and I was terrified, overwhelmed, and a wuss. And stopped running. Fast-forward to August 2005, CAW finds RM, therefore, ergo, donc, Scotty finds RM. *cue transitional music* (finally…the point) Today: I warm up a little, slap a few bugs. I feel unprepared. I have no MP3, no Garmin, and no watch. Nada, well a snazzy retro headband…I was running on pure measured output. My previous best 10k was 53:38, back in March. I had had a whisper goal before of 50:00, seemed like a reasonable goal. But in essence I just hoped to mirror my previous result. With only 100 or so starters I had no problem seeding my self about 1/3 of the way back… It was just before the 2km marker when I had a funny moment, that is when I started to feel “yeah, ok, got my stride now, breathings good, I feel good, look out world I’m loose now!” Then I look up and see this kid streaking towards me, doesn’t even look old enough to shave…little bugger is already on his way back (doing the five). So I smiled, and shoved his 85lb frame as hard as I could into the bushes. Which got a chorus of cheers from behind me… I wish. I was still chuckling to myself at the 4 km mark; people must’ve thought I’d lost it. I had heard quite a few people, unfamiliar with the route nervously chattering about the “hilliness” of the course, and to some like me, it was moot as I didn’t find them that bad, but for anyone who focused their training on level ground…oops. At any rate I had no clue how I was doing, time wise. Physically I was maintaining a cruising pace somewhere below ‘vomit’, but above ‘comfortable’. I was stuck right around ‘stitch’. I nodded to Dan, high-fived Jaimer, smiled with Pete, and high-fived Kara. As I came into the last km mark, a spot I know very well, I decided to leave my spleen and pancreas on the course and go for it. As I came around the six-foot wall on the obstacle course I see the finish. Holy carp…I lumber my way to the line. 52:02. I tried so hard to shave 3 more seconds off, but the timer mocked me… Still, a PB is a PB. I am surprised, excited, and sore… I like those accomplishment that sneak up on you unawares and yell, “BOO!” and then giggle at you… *roll credits*
30.5.06
1500kms and One Choked Herring.
(Scotty at CTRR)
It’s Tuesday afternoon, and I am home, finally, with an opportunity to decompress- relax, and bask in the glow of something still immeasurable.
Foreward- When I answered the call to become one of Brendan’s Volunteers back in later stages of oh-five I had yet to run a single event, not a one. So many would wonder what in the Hell I had to be thinking when I agreed to run a leg at CTRR. The quick answer is that I wasn’t thinking, or at least not properly. It seemed like a good challenge, and I did get swept up in the wave of excitement, anticipation that grew into a Tsunami that crashed upon the shores of Cape Breton like a great and terrible storm.
I had the Fredericton Half Marathon a mere two weeks before as my training goal, and as I have posted before, my bib did well. I had not had the time to really consider the magnitude of the run that would follow two weeks after. These days are an awkward time for me, and this awkwardness is shared by James (Scadian), Jaimer, Kara, and Trish too; and it all revolves around February 07. That is the date that three of us in the Merry NB Crew will deploy to Afghanistan.
I have heard that an impending deployment can be equated to being told you are suffering from a fatal illness, once you have your deployment time, everything in your life goes on hold, and stays that way for at least a year by the time the training, deployment, and return home is complete. I know Scadian and myself felt particular strain leading to this event as we really did not get a chance to prepare the way we would have liked and it was questionable to the last possible moments if we would even get to make the trek.
But fortune favored us and we did get to make the trek, though with it required our immediate return with the weight of obligations to training calling us back for 0630 Monday morning. But those 60 insane hours that covered 1500kms, 4 legs equaling almost 70kms, an 11 x 11 cabin, and one ‘choked herring’ was a journey into a place where time stood still, and all was right in the world.
I told you that to tell you this, and so you would understand the emotion and sentiment behind my words.
~Friday, the plan is coming together like a train wreck. Once we finally had the kids away, Raven accounted for, James out of the field and showered, and Trish’s kids duct taped to her van we were good to go.
Six hours and three Great Big Sea CD’s later we arrive at the Silver Dart and as if it were scripted the Maniacs were lined up right there at the door. Of course it is at this point I must apologize to all my fellow Maniacs as I was about as friendly as a cactus in the but as I was totally bone weary from a long work week and a long drive. Paying $20 for a pasta supper with no pasta and no dessert of course enhanced my mood. The three pieces of bread I had though were worth it.
We took a trek to the Firehall, and I watched the NB crew assimilate themselves into the RM Nation dancers, too cute!!!!
Then it was time to call it a night that led to the game “Let’s find our unmarked campsite” Fortunately, we found it with out too much incident, and my companions gave me my bottle and put me to bed.
~Saturday, when the day started I still had no clue what I was in for, none. Having missed the team meeting and some of the hoopla I still was not “in the know” And as we started out through the drive, the energy in the air became palpable, like its own weather front, rivaling and eventually overcoming the rain. We caught up to the trail on Leg 3 and I knew my memories, and perhaps my entire running career would never be the same again.
My run-
Well, I did Leg 6, 17.5km, rating of 4.5, with the threat of “Strong Coastal Breezes”
I was in the zone as I milled around after Scadian’s leg. I shared some shoulder time with the stunning Portia Bates, before she ran off into the horizon.
My goal was 1:40, but I wasn’t optimistic because that would have me almost matching my Half marathon pace in Fredericton, which is like running across a pool table, not a wash board.
When everyone took off it took little time before my morale was in the toilet. A group of sixty people race off in to the distance and by the first real hill I was 200-300m behind my closest competition. I checked James’ Garmin and I was maintaining 5:00km for nearly the first four km, which is well above my normal pace, and I fell further and further behind.
My support crew must have seen all the racers tearing off into the distance and thought “Oh crap” because Kara was soon there shouting and jumping and cheering. I started to feel a bit better. Then as I came over the hill I saw the red wig, and I knew all couldn’t be wrong in the world.
I kept going, remembering Sherry’s banner, and you can pick whichever slogan because I was going through them all. I figured my goal was shot, so I made a new one. I would not walk on a hill, at all, ever. Yes I am a sucker for punishment.
I was on autopilot throughout the entire mid potion of the race. I saw all the maniacs on the course and I wanted to hug them all, though I must have looked like old yeller did at the end just waiting for someone to shoot me.
Then, after my long down hill when I was starting to pass people I heard a weird reverberating echo of shouts, horns, and the odd primal beat of rocks on the guardrails. I thought it must be a trick of landscape because that noise appears to be coming from that very steep hill going the other way.
I had memorized my paper brochure and knew my leg ended with a stiff incline. When I rounded the corner and saw what was facing me I literally laughed out loud. Apparently the little jump on the brochure outline was a three-kilometer stretch steadily up hill. I redoubled my efforts and my vow to not walk, and I started to pass a few more people.
And much to my surprise as I reached the top, the mat was still there, and I could tag my wife. I had met my goal, no walking up hill; at least I had my pride. And when Kara told me my time I was stunned. 1:37 and change. Some how I had sustained a 5:35 pace, just slightly faster than my half two weeks ago.
Then it was time to don my clown gear and start cheering.
The other highlights
1) The Homestyle Restaurant in Cheticamp, huge portion sizes of Nectar and Ambrosia I swear.
2) The accomplishment of Kara finishing her leg after all she’s been through and put up with, I have more pride in that that anything.
3) I hope I was able to pay back some debts at the water station, everyone else brought so much to this entire weekend. Thank you all and I will forever be in your debt.
4) For James and I it is the end of an era, we have known each other since Grade 8 and except for a couple of short periods we have lived in the same neck of the woods and on July 10 we will be posted in separate directions. The guns, the guns, thank God the guns.
5) I hereby submit my name for next year’s events. Though this time I will coordinate a trip home from Kandahar Airfield instead of off a course.
Conclusion.
I am overwhelmed at all levels.
Personally, I am pretty dang proud of my results.
The little NB Super van that could, wow, we pulled it all together.
The entire RM CTRR team. Hm, what can one say?
Thank you all.
Oh yeah, the Choked Herring…It is a small thing, but it ended up being the running joke and defining slogan for the NB trip. It was the password that initiated the fun of the weekend. As we approached Baddeck there was a small little restaurant called the Herring Choker. It took us all by surprise and struck us quite funny. I’ll let you imagine all the lewd references that may or may not have been tossed around.
It’s Tuesday afternoon, and I am home, finally, with an opportunity to decompress- relax, and bask in the glow of something still immeasurable.
Foreward- When I answered the call to become one of Brendan’s Volunteers back in later stages of oh-five I had yet to run a single event, not a one. So many would wonder what in the Hell I had to be thinking when I agreed to run a leg at CTRR. The quick answer is that I wasn’t thinking, or at least not properly. It seemed like a good challenge, and I did get swept up in the wave of excitement, anticipation that grew into a Tsunami that crashed upon the shores of Cape Breton like a great and terrible storm.
I had the Fredericton Half Marathon a mere two weeks before as my training goal, and as I have posted before, my bib did well. I had not had the time to really consider the magnitude of the run that would follow two weeks after. These days are an awkward time for me, and this awkwardness is shared by James (Scadian), Jaimer, Kara, and Trish too; and it all revolves around February 07. That is the date that three of us in the Merry NB Crew will deploy to Afghanistan.
I have heard that an impending deployment can be equated to being told you are suffering from a fatal illness, once you have your deployment time, everything in your life goes on hold, and stays that way for at least a year by the time the training, deployment, and return home is complete. I know Scadian and myself felt particular strain leading to this event as we really did not get a chance to prepare the way we would have liked and it was questionable to the last possible moments if we would even get to make the trek.
But fortune favored us and we did get to make the trek, though with it required our immediate return with the weight of obligations to training calling us back for 0630 Monday morning. But those 60 insane hours that covered 1500kms, 4 legs equaling almost 70kms, an 11 x 11 cabin, and one ‘choked herring’ was a journey into a place where time stood still, and all was right in the world.
I told you that to tell you this, and so you would understand the emotion and sentiment behind my words.
~Friday, the plan is coming together like a train wreck. Once we finally had the kids away, Raven accounted for, James out of the field and showered, and Trish’s kids duct taped to her van we were good to go.
Six hours and three Great Big Sea CD’s later we arrive at the Silver Dart and as if it were scripted the Maniacs were lined up right there at the door. Of course it is at this point I must apologize to all my fellow Maniacs as I was about as friendly as a cactus in the but as I was totally bone weary from a long work week and a long drive. Paying $20 for a pasta supper with no pasta and no dessert of course enhanced my mood. The three pieces of bread I had though were worth it.
We took a trek to the Firehall, and I watched the NB crew assimilate themselves into the RM Nation dancers, too cute!!!!
Then it was time to call it a night that led to the game “Let’s find our unmarked campsite” Fortunately, we found it with out too much incident, and my companions gave me my bottle and put me to bed.
~Saturday, when the day started I still had no clue what I was in for, none. Having missed the team meeting and some of the hoopla I still was not “in the know” And as we started out through the drive, the energy in the air became palpable, like its own weather front, rivaling and eventually overcoming the rain. We caught up to the trail on Leg 3 and I knew my memories, and perhaps my entire running career would never be the same again.
My run-
Well, I did Leg 6, 17.5km, rating of 4.5, with the threat of “Strong Coastal Breezes”
I was in the zone as I milled around after Scadian’s leg. I shared some shoulder time with the stunning Portia Bates, before she ran off into the horizon.
My goal was 1:40, but I wasn’t optimistic because that would have me almost matching my Half marathon pace in Fredericton, which is like running across a pool table, not a wash board.
When everyone took off it took little time before my morale was in the toilet. A group of sixty people race off in to the distance and by the first real hill I was 200-300m behind my closest competition. I checked James’ Garmin and I was maintaining 5:00km for nearly the first four km, which is well above my normal pace, and I fell further and further behind.
My support crew must have seen all the racers tearing off into the distance and thought “Oh crap” because Kara was soon there shouting and jumping and cheering. I started to feel a bit better. Then as I came over the hill I saw the red wig, and I knew all couldn’t be wrong in the world.
I kept going, remembering Sherry’s banner, and you can pick whichever slogan because I was going through them all. I figured my goal was shot, so I made a new one. I would not walk on a hill, at all, ever. Yes I am a sucker for punishment.
I was on autopilot throughout the entire mid potion of the race. I saw all the maniacs on the course and I wanted to hug them all, though I must have looked like old yeller did at the end just waiting for someone to shoot me.
Then, after my long down hill when I was starting to pass people I heard a weird reverberating echo of shouts, horns, and the odd primal beat of rocks on the guardrails. I thought it must be a trick of landscape because that noise appears to be coming from that very steep hill going the other way.
I had memorized my paper brochure and knew my leg ended with a stiff incline. When I rounded the corner and saw what was facing me I literally laughed out loud. Apparently the little jump on the brochure outline was a three-kilometer stretch steadily up hill. I redoubled my efforts and my vow to not walk, and I started to pass a few more people.
And much to my surprise as I reached the top, the mat was still there, and I could tag my wife. I had met my goal, no walking up hill; at least I had my pride. And when Kara told me my time I was stunned. 1:37 and change. Some how I had sustained a 5:35 pace, just slightly faster than my half two weeks ago.
Then it was time to don my clown gear and start cheering.
The other highlights
1) The Homestyle Restaurant in Cheticamp, huge portion sizes of Nectar and Ambrosia I swear.
2) The accomplishment of Kara finishing her leg after all she’s been through and put up with, I have more pride in that that anything.
3) I hope I was able to pay back some debts at the water station, everyone else brought so much to this entire weekend. Thank you all and I will forever be in your debt.
4) For James and I it is the end of an era, we have known each other since Grade 8 and except for a couple of short periods we have lived in the same neck of the woods and on July 10 we will be posted in separate directions. The guns, the guns, thank God the guns.
5) I hereby submit my name for next year’s events. Though this time I will coordinate a trip home from Kandahar Airfield instead of off a course.
Conclusion.
I am overwhelmed at all levels.
Personally, I am pretty dang proud of my results.
The little NB Super van that could, wow, we pulled it all together.
The entire RM CTRR team. Hm, what can one say?
Thank you all.
Oh yeah, the Choked Herring…It is a small thing, but it ended up being the running joke and defining slogan for the NB trip. It was the password that initiated the fun of the weekend. As we approached Baddeck there was a small little restaurant called the Herring Choker. It took us all by surprise and struck us quite funny. I’ll let you imagine all the lewd references that may or may not have been tossed around.
14.5.06
The Life and Times of Bib #1116.
“-Hi, Bib #1116 here, but my friends call me Bib #1116. I want to tell you the story of my Fredericton Half Marathon. I waited with nervous anxiety on the table with all my 10 km, Half, and Full Buddies… and had to listen to Bib# 2342 brag to my girlfriend Bib # 733. But I digress.
Well the line up starts moving through, and now I’m getting excited…I can’t wait to see what kind of athlete my runner will be. Is it an elite athlete? a sexy first timer? The anticipation was palpable, so imagine my disappointment when the slightly round guy picked me up. I tried to introduce myself but then I as shoved unceremoniously into a yellow plastic bag, but I did get to meet some nice brochures from other races, and I did cuddle up to a Fredericton Half T Shirt, roughly the size of a three-man tent.
So I was pretty excited listening to this round guy talk about his training runs and telling people about his goals for the next day. “Hmm, not too bad” I think to myself as he mentions his goal is 2:09, with a whisper goal of breaking 2:00. So given how serious lard ass sounds I was hoping we’d go through some nice prerace rituals… Well this guy had the weirdest prerace rituals ever. He left me hanging on the pantry door in the cheap bag so the damn dog could sniff me endlessly. So while I sit there Lardo drinks six beers! I mean come on, are you serious, his logic is, well they’re LIGHT beers!!
All my training going for squat.
The next day was much better, as this guy seems to know some pretty cool people, some running the 10, some the Half. Soon I realize it’s time to “pin me to Buddha!” and I guess I was just lucky that drunk guy realized there were predrilled holed for the safety pins.
So we milled around a bit, the nervous energy oozing out of this guys pores, or maybe it was alcohol…but anyway we all got to pose for great pictures, pictures and more pictures, with hugs and words. Had to admit this guy was in with a cool crowd.
So while I’m still posing for pictures I realize,”whoa crap we’re moving” The technological wunderkind that I’m hooked to spent the first km trying to figure out how to start his watch.
After that it was pretty smooth sailing. This guy had a pace bracelet, cleverly crafted out of duct tape. He stopped and walked his way through most of the water stations, which he was kind enough to share with me most of the time.
It was a gorgeous day, with a little breeze lots of sun, and a lot of smiling happy runners. So I feel the guy start to wheeze a little feeling his energy flag a little at km 19. This guy had some gels with him but was too busy running to take them. The next thing I know we round the last corner and this guy is waning, when suddenly he kicks it in and I must admit the breeze felt nice…I see the Finish line approaching and I am yelling at this guy to slow down, I’m going to be all bunched up in the pictures…”
So his wife who was crushing us in these huge bear hugs after he staggered past the finish line told him our time…
1:57:49… he seemed pretty happy. And I almost forgave him shoving me in a plastic bag, until he did it again on the way home.”
Hey Scott here, damn thing is awful long winded. Any way, I’m pretty proud not just of myself, but of all the RM crew, James, Jaime thanks for all the training runs and the motivation, great way to cap our stay in Gagetown eh? (+CTRR). Dani and MrDani, great work on the 10km!! Sanders, Karen, Dan great to meet you/ see you again. And Trish great job, first race, first half, big smiles.
Oh yeah, hurray for me actually ran a smart race, minus forgetting the gels, and the beer the night before…I did beat 2:00 though-
Well the line up starts moving through, and now I’m getting excited…I can’t wait to see what kind of athlete my runner will be. Is it an elite athlete? a sexy first timer? The anticipation was palpable, so imagine my disappointment when the slightly round guy picked me up. I tried to introduce myself but then I as shoved unceremoniously into a yellow plastic bag, but I did get to meet some nice brochures from other races, and I did cuddle up to a Fredericton Half T Shirt, roughly the size of a three-man tent.
So I was pretty excited listening to this round guy talk about his training runs and telling people about his goals for the next day. “Hmm, not too bad” I think to myself as he mentions his goal is 2:09, with a whisper goal of breaking 2:00. So given how serious lard ass sounds I was hoping we’d go through some nice prerace rituals… Well this guy had the weirdest prerace rituals ever. He left me hanging on the pantry door in the cheap bag so the damn dog could sniff me endlessly. So while I sit there Lardo drinks six beers! I mean come on, are you serious, his logic is, well they’re LIGHT beers!!
All my training going for squat.
The next day was much better, as this guy seems to know some pretty cool people, some running the 10, some the Half. Soon I realize it’s time to “pin me to Buddha!” and I guess I was just lucky that drunk guy realized there were predrilled holed for the safety pins.
So we milled around a bit, the nervous energy oozing out of this guys pores, or maybe it was alcohol…but anyway we all got to pose for great pictures, pictures and more pictures, with hugs and words. Had to admit this guy was in with a cool crowd.
So while I’m still posing for pictures I realize,”whoa crap we’re moving” The technological wunderkind that I’m hooked to spent the first km trying to figure out how to start his watch.
After that it was pretty smooth sailing. This guy had a pace bracelet, cleverly crafted out of duct tape. He stopped and walked his way through most of the water stations, which he was kind enough to share with me most of the time.
It was a gorgeous day, with a little breeze lots of sun, and a lot of smiling happy runners. So I feel the guy start to wheeze a little feeling his energy flag a little at km 19. This guy had some gels with him but was too busy running to take them. The next thing I know we round the last corner and this guy is waning, when suddenly he kicks it in and I must admit the breeze felt nice…I see the Finish line approaching and I am yelling at this guy to slow down, I’m going to be all bunched up in the pictures…”
So his wife who was crushing us in these huge bear hugs after he staggered past the finish line told him our time…
1:57:49… he seemed pretty happy. And I almost forgave him shoving me in a plastic bag, until he did it again on the way home.”
Hey Scott here, damn thing is awful long winded. Any way, I’m pretty proud not just of myself, but of all the RM crew, James, Jaime thanks for all the training runs and the motivation, great way to cap our stay in Gagetown eh? (+CTRR). Dani and MrDani, great work on the 10km!! Sanders, Karen, Dan great to meet you/ see you again. And Trish great job, first race, first half, big smiles.
Oh yeah, hurray for me actually ran a smart race, minus forgetting the gels, and the beer the night before…I did beat 2:00 though-
12.5.06
Body Management vs. Run Management
RUNNING ECONOMY The amount of oxygen used when running at a steady, less-than-all-out effort. An economical runner uses less energy to maintain the same pace. This leaves the more efficient runner with greater energy reserves for later in a workout or race. Runners World June 2006
e·piph·a·ny n. pl. e·piph·a·nies
Epiphany
1- A Christian feast celebrating the manifestation of the divine nature of Jesus to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi.
January 6, on which this feast is traditionally observed.
2- A revelatory manifestation of a divine being.
3-A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something.
b- A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realization: “I experienced an epiphany, a spiritual flash that would change the way I viewed myself” (Frank Maier).
I suppose it is an epiphany even when it takes months for a realization to happen, and I suppose in the religious context above it is something that could take a lifetime, equitable to a Buddhist seeking Enlightenment. When I read the ‘running economy’ definition in this months well used edition of the Runners World a lot of ideas in my head came together with the subtlety of a train wreck.
Back in August 05 when I followed Kara’s example and started running for fun I, personally, was a victim of the stopwatch and formulas. Slowly over time I have weaned my self from using devices during my runs, watches, Garmins, MP3 players, every thing, I would even put the treadmill to calorie counter (which did disappoint me a little…but I digress). So everything is becoming what in some circles in known as a ‘Zen’ runner, no bias on the religion. I have learned to run and enjoy running by perceived exertion. I often felt trapped in training plans having to run a certain distance at a certain speed, even on days when I felt like sh—aving cream. So I started taking the strict distances as suggestions, and I allowed my running objectives to be incorporated into the realities of my work and family schedules. Though I did maintain a solid focus on conducting my LSDs on weekends. So I stayed true to my distances, and technically stayed true to my schedule, but did in a way that would not have me hurting myself or grow weary or discouraged.
Though it was an injury, I think, that started my unconscious focus on Body Management. I have become so aware now of what it takes to fuel my body and build my body to achieve the goals I want. I must add immediately though that this is only a relative success, as before I was completely and utter oblivious to the way I treated my body, everything became so right now. I want to drink a lot of beer right now, I want a bag of chips right now, I want to run right now….Having planned out that “Yes Saturday/ Sunday, I will do a long distance” has lead me to hydrate before, during and after, and feed my body and rest the adequate amount to make it worth while.
I began to realize these things just before, during, and after my last 18km LSD with Trish. It was helped by the fact that I am on course right now, and had to regiment my weekly PT and weekend timings to make sure it happened as it was a necessary thing to act as final preparation for Sunday’s Half.
I now know I have trained enough and will be able to complete the half (barring catastrophe), goal number one has been accomplished. Goal two is to try and beat 2:15 for a time. But that will rely on Race Management, making sure that I run at a good even pace for the entirety of the race. So I have been going over walk-run strategies, music- no music strategies in my mind.
I hope that I can achieve a balance, and display running economy during the half. For it was something I achieved this week in an unplanned frantic five km on the treadmill. Normally my treadmill routine starts off with a “warmup” at about 10km/hr. Then increases, based on time or distance or whim until the last bit I am sprinting at 14 km/h. Well, this past run I started at 10-11km for the first two km, because I wanted to run at one smooth pace. I got bored and jacked the treadmill to 13km/h planning to sprint for a short time. That short time lasted for 15 minutes and I managed a 24 minute 5 km, which surprised me. I was nowhere near as beat and winded as usual. Lesson learned, nice even pace, even at a faster race brings the same result as slow and steady followed but by gut wrenching sprint…the kind of gut wrenching sprint that has me leaking bacon fat instead of sweat…
So hopefully I have done enough body management to facilitate good run management to facilitate goal 2 being met…
Did that just sound awkward to me?
e·piph·a·ny n. pl. e·piph·a·nies
Epiphany
1- A Christian feast celebrating the manifestation of the divine nature of Jesus to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi.
January 6, on which this feast is traditionally observed.
2- A revelatory manifestation of a divine being.
3-A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something.
b- A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realization: “I experienced an epiphany, a spiritual flash that would change the way I viewed myself” (Frank Maier).
I suppose it is an epiphany even when it takes months for a realization to happen, and I suppose in the religious context above it is something that could take a lifetime, equitable to a Buddhist seeking Enlightenment. When I read the ‘running economy’ definition in this months well used edition of the Runners World a lot of ideas in my head came together with the subtlety of a train wreck.
Back in August 05 when I followed Kara’s example and started running for fun I, personally, was a victim of the stopwatch and formulas. Slowly over time I have weaned my self from using devices during my runs, watches, Garmins, MP3 players, every thing, I would even put the treadmill to calorie counter (which did disappoint me a little…but I digress). So everything is becoming what in some circles in known as a ‘Zen’ runner, no bias on the religion. I have learned to run and enjoy running by perceived exertion. I often felt trapped in training plans having to run a certain distance at a certain speed, even on days when I felt like sh—aving cream. So I started taking the strict distances as suggestions, and I allowed my running objectives to be incorporated into the realities of my work and family schedules. Though I did maintain a solid focus on conducting my LSDs on weekends. So I stayed true to my distances, and technically stayed true to my schedule, but did in a way that would not have me hurting myself or grow weary or discouraged.
Though it was an injury, I think, that started my unconscious focus on Body Management. I have become so aware now of what it takes to fuel my body and build my body to achieve the goals I want. I must add immediately though that this is only a relative success, as before I was completely and utter oblivious to the way I treated my body, everything became so right now. I want to drink a lot of beer right now, I want a bag of chips right now, I want to run right now….Having planned out that “Yes Saturday/ Sunday, I will do a long distance” has lead me to hydrate before, during and after, and feed my body and rest the adequate amount to make it worth while.
I began to realize these things just before, during, and after my last 18km LSD with Trish. It was helped by the fact that I am on course right now, and had to regiment my weekly PT and weekend timings to make sure it happened as it was a necessary thing to act as final preparation for Sunday’s Half.
I now know I have trained enough and will be able to complete the half (barring catastrophe), goal number one has been accomplished. Goal two is to try and beat 2:15 for a time. But that will rely on Race Management, making sure that I run at a good even pace for the entirety of the race. So I have been going over walk-run strategies, music- no music strategies in my mind.
I hope that I can achieve a balance, and display running economy during the half. For it was something I achieved this week in an unplanned frantic five km on the treadmill. Normally my treadmill routine starts off with a “warmup” at about 10km/hr. Then increases, based on time or distance or whim until the last bit I am sprinting at 14 km/h. Well, this past run I started at 10-11km for the first two km, because I wanted to run at one smooth pace. I got bored and jacked the treadmill to 13km/h planning to sprint for a short time. That short time lasted for 15 minutes and I managed a 24 minute 5 km, which surprised me. I was nowhere near as beat and winded as usual. Lesson learned, nice even pace, even at a faster race brings the same result as slow and steady followed but by gut wrenching sprint…the kind of gut wrenching sprint that has me leaking bacon fat instead of sweat…
So hopefully I have done enough body management to facilitate good run management to facilitate goal 2 being met…
Did that just sound awkward to me?
7.5.06
Thoughts on my career, Running, Friendship, and the Human Condition
Well, unfortunately another long delayed Blog post, and for those in the know I’ll make it a bit more erudite than “What a friggin good time”!
I started a course last Monday known in the Air Defence world as BMC, Battlefield Management Course. In a nutshell it is the course than brings me, “to the next level” of my career progression. And I get the feeling that for all seven of us on the course it arrived the same way, with relentless determination and little in the way of real warning or preparation. There were some of us who were aware of when it should happen and what it was likely all about but little in the way of real meat.
Now I say this course is designed to get us to the next level, where we take a step from junior Captain status and are expected to fill a void in the Air Defence world as (more) senior Captains. Cool eh? But here’s the kicker- we are now entering the oft maligned world of the staff officer. A level where we really don’t have troops, we may have a small staff under us, but really we are just higher paid worker bees making sure the Commanders plan works, and is viable. And for us AD types the level of job we will be doing can be described thusly, us doing our job won’t win any battles, but if we don’t do it could mean we lose the battle. Rewarding. :/
I approach the life of a staff officer with a little apprehension; I have grown to enjoy immensely the rush of command. For the past year I have commanded a small troop of gung ho, professional soldiers in the world of UAV’s. That era has come to an end, unceremoniously, as I would have it. And who knows when I will command again?
However, I don’t want to be totally misleading here. I am looking forward to the next step, more responsibility, more decision-making, and more clout. We’ll see I guess.
On a different note, the running is going well. It looks like the half, for me will happen. And to paraphrase Dicken’s “It was the best of times it was the worst of times” as Kara is still nursing a bad foot injury that we want healed for CTRR. We’ve both had to let go of the dream of running the Half together, but we will defeat the Cabot Trail together. I admire her passion about missing the half, and it really sent it home that she is committed to maintaining the positive changes we’ve both made.
The highlight of running this week was my 18km LSD with someone who is becoming a close friend. There is a lot of time to get to know someone through the “pain and agony” of the gel experiment, loose gravel, and sweaty spandex…The run left me feeling confident, happy, and totally primed for the half AND CTRR. Yesterday was a full CTRR workup, starting with the Long Slow Distance, followed by marathon power drinking with most of my close friends from Gagetown, to which all of whom Kara and I will be saying some semblance of good bye to in the near future.
Feeling uncharacteristically philosophical, forgive me this; I have been admiring my friends as of late. Particularly their resolve, determination, or their passion for life. This isn’t the place for me to go into specifics, but I am so glad I try to surround my self with positive people. You know who you are.
Why waste so much energy on ridiculous things?
Well, I’m going to sign off now, time to go get teary eyed watching Ty Pennington change someone’s life, LOL. Take care, and I yes, I will write sooner next time.
I started a course last Monday known in the Air Defence world as BMC, Battlefield Management Course. In a nutshell it is the course than brings me, “to the next level” of my career progression. And I get the feeling that for all seven of us on the course it arrived the same way, with relentless determination and little in the way of real warning or preparation. There were some of us who were aware of when it should happen and what it was likely all about but little in the way of real meat.
Now I say this course is designed to get us to the next level, where we take a step from junior Captain status and are expected to fill a void in the Air Defence world as (more) senior Captains. Cool eh? But here’s the kicker- we are now entering the oft maligned world of the staff officer. A level where we really don’t have troops, we may have a small staff under us, but really we are just higher paid worker bees making sure the Commanders plan works, and is viable. And for us AD types the level of job we will be doing can be described thusly, us doing our job won’t win any battles, but if we don’t do it could mean we lose the battle. Rewarding. :/
I approach the life of a staff officer with a little apprehension; I have grown to enjoy immensely the rush of command. For the past year I have commanded a small troop of gung ho, professional soldiers in the world of UAV’s. That era has come to an end, unceremoniously, as I would have it. And who knows when I will command again?
However, I don’t want to be totally misleading here. I am looking forward to the next step, more responsibility, more decision-making, and more clout. We’ll see I guess.
On a different note, the running is going well. It looks like the half, for me will happen. And to paraphrase Dicken’s “It was the best of times it was the worst of times” as Kara is still nursing a bad foot injury that we want healed for CTRR. We’ve both had to let go of the dream of running the Half together, but we will defeat the Cabot Trail together. I admire her passion about missing the half, and it really sent it home that she is committed to maintaining the positive changes we’ve both made.
The highlight of running this week was my 18km LSD with someone who is becoming a close friend. There is a lot of time to get to know someone through the “pain and agony” of the gel experiment, loose gravel, and sweaty spandex…The run left me feeling confident, happy, and totally primed for the half AND CTRR. Yesterday was a full CTRR workup, starting with the Long Slow Distance, followed by marathon power drinking with most of my close friends from Gagetown, to which all of whom Kara and I will be saying some semblance of good bye to in the near future.
Feeling uncharacteristically philosophical, forgive me this; I have been admiring my friends as of late. Particularly their resolve, determination, or their passion for life. This isn’t the place for me to go into specifics, but I am so glad I try to surround my self with positive people. You know who you are.
Why waste so much energy on ridiculous things?
Well, I’m going to sign off now, time to go get teary eyed watching Ty Pennington change someone’s life, LOL. Take care, and I yes, I will write sooner next time.
29.4.06
In the Aftermath
Wow, wudda friggin good time last night! Even as the DD!
There was so much positive energy it was unreal, all of which was enhanced (slightly) by the alcohol.
The music was good, at both places and ya gotta love waitresses in kilts!!!
I had the most fun I've had in a while, and while it might not have been Barrington Street it'll do for now, right guys?
Bt no one lost a peanut shell in their cleavage, no wait... Well at least no one dumped beer in their own crotch, no wait...
Well at least nothing went "BOOM!" No wait....
Did we ever discuss CTRR?
There was so much positive energy it was unreal, all of which was enhanced (slightly) by the alcohol.
The music was good, at both places and ya gotta love waitresses in kilts!!!
I had the most fun I've had in a while, and while it might not have been Barrington Street it'll do for now, right guys?
Bt no one lost a peanut shell in their cleavage, no wait... Well at least no one dumped beer in their own crotch, no wait...
Well at least nothing went "BOOM!" No wait....
Did we ever discuss CTRR?
25.4.06
The Fifteen-Minute Solution
As is the normal cycle of Lang-Life Kara and I have hit bottom again. Don’t worry it is nothing drastic; we’ve hit the bottom of the rut.
Every so often life tackles us about the knees when we weren’t looking, and we realize we have stopped controlling what’s going on and things build up and breakdown.
In particular, I am speaking to the state of clutter and chaos consuming the house, floor-by-floor, room-by-room. This domestic chaos (Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome) is inevitably tied to the financial lethargy our life has had since we met that at times rears it’s ugly head and becomes an all-pervasive feeling of dread and impending doom.
So with the posting message in hand and now an address for where we will live in Moncton Kara and I had a full out emotion session, with raised voices, tears etc. But the cool thing is we were not at each other’s throats as may have happened earlier in our relationship. We were, in essence, completely on the same page. Though we do have fundamentally different ways of looking at both the problem and the solution.
The solution that worked for us before in terms of decluttering and organizing was something Kara found at FlyLady.com. To summarize right now we are adopting what I call “the 15 minute solution”. A strategy of Crisis Cleaning that has you begin in the kitchen and clean, and clear surfaces for fifteen minutes (use a timer), then when the timer goes of you move to the living room and do the same, then to the kitchen again. At the end of the third segment you take a fifteen-minute break, where you relax and enjoy the accomplishment of the previous 45 minutes.
So we began last night and took a tremendous step towards the top of the rut. And gosh darnit it feels good.
As for the financial lethargy, ha, not such an easy fix. There is just never enough coming in for us to get ahead. At our best we are breaking even. We will be taking drastic measures to catch up this time. And that means no Fredericton Half marathon. A) we can’t buy Kara the sneakers she needs, and b) we can’t pay to enter. So after six months of training it is a really cocksucker of a kick in the balls.
Sacrifices we make eh?
But to end on a positive note the fifteen minute solution adds such a piece of mind to the upcoming move. And if we can start on the right foot in Moncton then that will be ¾ of the battle.
Til next time.
Every so often life tackles us about the knees when we weren’t looking, and we realize we have stopped controlling what’s going on and things build up and breakdown.
In particular, I am speaking to the state of clutter and chaos consuming the house, floor-by-floor, room-by-room. This domestic chaos (Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome) is inevitably tied to the financial lethargy our life has had since we met that at times rears it’s ugly head and becomes an all-pervasive feeling of dread and impending doom.
So with the posting message in hand and now an address for where we will live in Moncton Kara and I had a full out emotion session, with raised voices, tears etc. But the cool thing is we were not at each other’s throats as may have happened earlier in our relationship. We were, in essence, completely on the same page. Though we do have fundamentally different ways of looking at both the problem and the solution.
The solution that worked for us before in terms of decluttering and organizing was something Kara found at FlyLady.com. To summarize right now we are adopting what I call “the 15 minute solution”. A strategy of Crisis Cleaning that has you begin in the kitchen and clean, and clear surfaces for fifteen minutes (use a timer), then when the timer goes of you move to the living room and do the same, then to the kitchen again. At the end of the third segment you take a fifteen-minute break, where you relax and enjoy the accomplishment of the previous 45 minutes.
So we began last night and took a tremendous step towards the top of the rut. And gosh darnit it feels good.
As for the financial lethargy, ha, not such an easy fix. There is just never enough coming in for us to get ahead. At our best we are breaking even. We will be taking drastic measures to catch up this time. And that means no Fredericton Half marathon. A) we can’t buy Kara the sneakers she needs, and b) we can’t pay to enter. So after six months of training it is a really cocksucker of a kick in the balls.
Sacrifices we make eh?
But to end on a positive note the fifteen minute solution adds such a piece of mind to the upcoming move. And if we can start on the right foot in Moncton then that will be ¾ of the battle.
Til next time.
23.4.06
A note on where I've been.
Work, the simple answer.
This week was a very long, yet rewarding week at work. It was the confrimation week for a Vindicator UAV course that ran in my troop. The weather was horrid the first few days; wind, rain, hail, and the wind.
had a lot of high profile (read high ranking, or important) visitors, and i think it went well despite the added stress.
My running went for a dump, though I did get one great run in with james a and Jaime ( a fortuitous turn as it wasn't planned)
tomorrow, an LSD.
This week was a very long, yet rewarding week at work. It was the confrimation week for a Vindicator UAV course that ran in my troop. The weather was horrid the first few days; wind, rain, hail, and the wind.
had a lot of high profile (read high ranking, or important) visitors, and i think it went well despite the added stress.
My running went for a dump, though I did get one great run in with james a and Jaime ( a fortuitous turn as it wasn't planned)
tomorrow, an LSD.
A stolen journalling exercise
Having read a good friends blog I was so struck by one of her posts that I decided to explore the same question. Though my own version may lack the focus of the original intent it held for her I think it will be an excellent exercise. Here is the question:
Are you a night owl or a morning person or something in between? Do you know when this habit began in your life? Do you think people’s sleep patterns are really a part of who they are (like hair color) or can be changed with circumstances?
-The easy answer to this question is that I am a full-blown morning person. I do know when this habit began, and I believe though natural, they can be changed by circumstances.
My explanation. I have always gotten up early, always. I used to always be awake a half hour before the sun would rise. This was a habit reinforced by my requirement to always get up for school, or to get up to go to hockey practise. This ability and preference for me to start my day as early as possible was an advantage, especially when it came to sports as my mental readiness was often much more focused than my teammates during early practises.
This has proven so extremely advantageous for me considering my career choice. Being a soldier, and an officer often requires me to be up before the rest, even if I went down after all the rest. But I think I have a good ability to wake up, and wake up quickly and alert. This is coupled with my ability to shut myself off, an ability Kara hates, and that I will discuss in a couple paragraphs from now.
Even if I take the time to stay out, or stay up and be a night owl I will 95% of the time be awake first thing in the morning. This may leave me as a complete writeoff by 1400 but I was up. Kara and I have always been very different in this regard as I would classify her as a definitive night owl. She would be happy if her day started at 9 am with a two hour nap. But her fun isn't starting til 2230-2300.
This habit, as mentioned, mostly developed naturally for me as a result of forced school timings and hockey practise. But I began to acknowledge my like for it in High School, and I have a real fascination with the "dead"morning hours, the time of pure darkness, and often calmness usually at about 3:30 to 4:30 in the morning. I went through a period in Grade 12 and first year university where I stayed up all night to reach this point, then I smartened up and started going to bed earlier and getting up at this time.
It is my favorite time to drive long distances, it is my favorite time to pull sentry or CP duty.
I have really developed a skill that Kara hates, and that is my ability to turn off, and fall asleep almost immediately. No matter what is going on in my life. This has been ultra enhanced by my reaction to Basic training, when I realized, "You know what? screw it, tomorrow is going to get here, and it's probably going to suck, but I don't want it to suck and be dragging my ass!" This ability to detach was something mentioned and explored in a book I just finished "Tuesdays With Morrie" (review to follow in another Blog!) I pride myself on this ability, and though I do have those times whan I just can't do it, I pride myself on "letting go" and then reestablishing the connection (and the heartburn) the next morning.
I believe peoples sleeping habits are the perfect blend of nurture and nature. I think I am predisposed to an early rising, and events in my life made it habit. Working to detach myself from issues has been something I have nurtured, and have tried to make 'natural"'.
I think people can set conditions for their own success if they make it a) a priority and b) if the circumstances allow for it to happen. Causes of our stress we cannot control, reactions to that stress we can. Some things just can't be done from 2300-0500, so laying awake brooding/panicking is no help to anyone.
Those are my thoughts anyway, and almost worth a nickel...
What a great exercise...
Til next time.
Are you a night owl or a morning person or something in between? Do you know when this habit began in your life? Do you think people’s sleep patterns are really a part of who they are (like hair color) or can be changed with circumstances?
-The easy answer to this question is that I am a full-blown morning person. I do know when this habit began, and I believe though natural, they can be changed by circumstances.
My explanation. I have always gotten up early, always. I used to always be awake a half hour before the sun would rise. This was a habit reinforced by my requirement to always get up for school, or to get up to go to hockey practise. This ability and preference for me to start my day as early as possible was an advantage, especially when it came to sports as my mental readiness was often much more focused than my teammates during early practises.
This has proven so extremely advantageous for me considering my career choice. Being a soldier, and an officer often requires me to be up before the rest, even if I went down after all the rest. But I think I have a good ability to wake up, and wake up quickly and alert. This is coupled with my ability to shut myself off, an ability Kara hates, and that I will discuss in a couple paragraphs from now.
Even if I take the time to stay out, or stay up and be a night owl I will 95% of the time be awake first thing in the morning. This may leave me as a complete writeoff by 1400 but I was up. Kara and I have always been very different in this regard as I would classify her as a definitive night owl. She would be happy if her day started at 9 am with a two hour nap. But her fun isn't starting til 2230-2300.
This habit, as mentioned, mostly developed naturally for me as a result of forced school timings and hockey practise. But I began to acknowledge my like for it in High School, and I have a real fascination with the "dead"morning hours, the time of pure darkness, and often calmness usually at about 3:30 to 4:30 in the morning. I went through a period in Grade 12 and first year university where I stayed up all night to reach this point, then I smartened up and started going to bed earlier and getting up at this time.
It is my favorite time to drive long distances, it is my favorite time to pull sentry or CP duty.
I have really developed a skill that Kara hates, and that is my ability to turn off, and fall asleep almost immediately. No matter what is going on in my life. This has been ultra enhanced by my reaction to Basic training, when I realized, "You know what? screw it, tomorrow is going to get here, and it's probably going to suck, but I don't want it to suck and be dragging my ass!" This ability to detach was something mentioned and explored in a book I just finished "Tuesdays With Morrie" (review to follow in another Blog!) I pride myself on this ability, and though I do have those times whan I just can't do it, I pride myself on "letting go" and then reestablishing the connection (and the heartburn) the next morning.
I believe peoples sleeping habits are the perfect blend of nurture and nature. I think I am predisposed to an early rising, and events in my life made it habit. Working to detach myself from issues has been something I have nurtured, and have tried to make 'natural"'.
I think people can set conditions for their own success if they make it a) a priority and b) if the circumstances allow for it to happen. Causes of our stress we cannot control, reactions to that stress we can. Some things just can't be done from 2300-0500, so laying awake brooding/panicking is no help to anyone.
Those are my thoughts anyway, and almost worth a nickel...
What a great exercise...
Til next time.
18.4.06
A short note about Monday's shopping.
Kara and I followed EBay religiously for five days. The exact part required to make my bike almost road worthy was on for a decent price American.
It came down to the big day. Kara went with Trish for a 14km run...which is awesome in and of itself. So, I went upstairs to play some Age of Empires to pass the time. Then the phone started ringing, then the kids were hungry, then the family looking for bedframes that Kara posted on Fredericton Freecycle arrived. Funny, because I was unaware that they were coming, and the bed frames were in about twelve %$#%# ing locations around the house.
But once again things calm down, and I go back to Age of Empires, which again, funny, was not on pause while I was away and I was getting the shy-za trounced out of me. So I get it all sorted out and carry on.
Five minutes later Kara comes in the room, cheeks rosy pink and cute from her run and she says, "Did you win?"
I say "No I just..." Then I realize she is not talking about Age of Empires.
{{panic}}
-going to ebay-
Sold, done, ended, about seven minutes before...
Needless to say I did not win the part.
And Monday we also needed to buy a new mouse for the computer.
To facilitate putting the bike, piece by {ahem} piece on EBay...
*sigh*
It came down to the big day. Kara went with Trish for a 14km run...which is awesome in and of itself. So, I went upstairs to play some Age of Empires to pass the time. Then the phone started ringing, then the kids were hungry, then the family looking for bedframes that Kara posted on Fredericton Freecycle arrived. Funny, because I was unaware that they were coming, and the bed frames were in about twelve %$#%# ing locations around the house.
But once again things calm down, and I go back to Age of Empires, which again, funny, was not on pause while I was away and I was getting the shy-za trounced out of me. So I get it all sorted out and carry on.
Five minutes later Kara comes in the room, cheeks rosy pink and cute from her run and she says, "Did you win?"
I say "No I just..." Then I realize she is not talking about Age of Empires.
{{panic}}
-going to ebay-
Sold, done, ended, about seven minutes before...
Needless to say I did not win the part.
And Monday we also needed to buy a new mouse for the computer.
To facilitate putting the bike, piece by {ahem} piece on EBay...
*sigh*
Easter Weekend, Readers Digest Version
"Knock, Knock"
"Who’s there?"
“Cheese”
“Cheese who?”
“Knock Knock”
“Who’s there?”
“Glad Phia’s not here for cake!”
Nathaniel’s comments during cheesecake dessert Saturday night, Easter. Aaron was over for some vino and some eats, and the Lang Family premiere of Narnia.
Friday was a good day, had the day off and the sun was shining. Nathaniel and I built a soccer goal out of some scrap wood and played soccer for about 90 minutes. Then Kara and I went to Dave’s place and got to see the new Xbox 360.
Saturday was a good day too, got our Easter shopping done and as mentioned Aaron came over and spent a few hours. The movie Narnia was good, kept the kids interest and the parents’ interest and was a good adaptation of the book.
Sunday started off great with the kids following picture clues from hollow plastic eggs around the house. Upstairs then downstairs, to their chocolates, their soccer ball/ bike helmet, and their new jackets. The kids were so excited following their clues they left their little Easter eggs behind!!!
(The remainder of the day was a blend of sugar-induced rampage and cursing the rain! During which time Nathaniel had his soccer ball, and then lost all soccer ball privileges for a while, after hacking off hunks of Phia’s hair with scissors. To his credit he did admit to it/ brag about it immediately after…
Monday was another trip to the mall day, looking for gels for Kara’s running. The only place on the planet (well planet Fredericton) that had them was Walmart, not GNC, or any running store. Keep in mind we didn’t try the RR, which was across town.
Needless to say no run for me…I’ll have to rectify that this week…if I can in the field all week.
"Who’s there?"
“Cheese”
“Cheese who?”
“Knock Knock”
“Who’s there?”
“Glad Phia’s not here for cake!”
Nathaniel’s comments during cheesecake dessert Saturday night, Easter. Aaron was over for some vino and some eats, and the Lang Family premiere of Narnia.
Friday was a good day, had the day off and the sun was shining. Nathaniel and I built a soccer goal out of some scrap wood and played soccer for about 90 minutes. Then Kara and I went to Dave’s place and got to see the new Xbox 360.
Saturday was a good day too, got our Easter shopping done and as mentioned Aaron came over and spent a few hours. The movie Narnia was good, kept the kids interest and the parents’ interest and was a good adaptation of the book.
Sunday started off great with the kids following picture clues from hollow plastic eggs around the house. Upstairs then downstairs, to their chocolates, their soccer ball/ bike helmet, and their new jackets. The kids were so excited following their clues they left their little Easter eggs behind!!!
(The remainder of the day was a blend of sugar-induced rampage and cursing the rain! During which time Nathaniel had his soccer ball, and then lost all soccer ball privileges for a while, after hacking off hunks of Phia’s hair with scissors. To his credit he did admit to it/ brag about it immediately after…
Monday was another trip to the mall day, looking for gels for Kara’s running. The only place on the planet (well planet Fredericton) that had them was Walmart, not GNC, or any running store. Keep in mind we didn’t try the RR, which was across town.
Needless to say no run for me…I’ll have to rectify that this week…if I can in the field all week.
11.4.06
It wasn't an LSD, but...
...It was a run, a nice 7 km yesterday in about 40-45 minutes, I don't really keep track anymore. Yesterday was an absolutely gorgeous day perfect for a bit of running.
It started with me staying home to look after one nutso kid and one sick kid while Kara went to a job interview. Our childcare fell through because of Phia's illness of the weekend , which is completely understandable.
Got to work for the afternoon though, time to catch up.
One good thing about yesterday morning, afater a little digging on the ol' interweb I found the part I need for my motorcycle on ebay...right now there are 3 days left...it sits and $12 American...I won't lose it this time.
But that is a story for later..
Till next time...
It started with me staying home to look after one nutso kid and one sick kid while Kara went to a job interview. Our childcare fell through because of Phia's illness of the weekend , which is completely understandable.
Got to work for the afternoon though, time to catch up.
One good thing about yesterday morning, afater a little digging on the ol' interweb I found the part I need for my motorcycle on ebay...right now there are 3 days left...it sits and $12 American...I won't lose it this time.
But that is a story for later..
Till next time...
10.4.06
We interupt this weekend...
It is amazing how a child's illness can completely halt all plans and chnage priorities in a heartbeat.
Well, as you guess where I'm going here- this past weekend was a rough go. Saturday night while enjoying a BBQ at Jsquared the contents of Phia’s stomach decided it liked it better out than in, and the Exorcist Vomiting (copyright Jaimer) began. After watching her situation deteriorate hourly until about 1:30 that night we decided to take her to the ER in Fredericton.
/- Insert reader’s Digest version rant about that status of health care in NB
We arrived at about 2 am, duty nurse attempts to dissuade me from staying saying it will be a “long wait” I say no I’d rather be here with her, she says “a really, really long wait”
At any rate it was a long wait, 2.5 hrs just to get into a little room, while Phia slept, puked, pooped, cried, puked, napped.
But I felt worse for the people who were already there when I got there and were still there when we got called in.
Case in point a young university girl who had fallen and was pretty sure her arm was broken, sat there with a bag of ice that had been on her arm so long that she could have made lukewarm tea in it. She was sleeping in a chair when we left at 6:30.
The funny (and by funny I mean Not-Funny) thing is there were three nurses who sat at the desk and did nothing but drink coffee. They got up and walked back and forth a couple times, and apparently they were “full” but there was only one doctor on…and they aren’t allowed to do anything with out him…
WTF? Unbelievable, unacceptable
End rant -/
Long story short, Phia has a particularly violent case of the pukeys, which will turn to the runny poops. It was scary to see her dehydrated-listless- lifeless, but fortunately she is on the mend, and a spokesgirl for Gatorade!!
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Well, as you guess where I'm going here- this past weekend was a rough go. Saturday night while enjoying a BBQ at Jsquared the contents of Phia’s stomach decided it liked it better out than in, and the Exorcist Vomiting (copyright Jaimer) began. After watching her situation deteriorate hourly until about 1:30 that night we decided to take her to the ER in Fredericton.
/- Insert reader’s Digest version rant about that status of health care in NB
We arrived at about 2 am, duty nurse attempts to dissuade me from staying saying it will be a “long wait” I say no I’d rather be here with her, she says “a really, really long wait”
At any rate it was a long wait, 2.5 hrs just to get into a little room, while Phia slept, puked, pooped, cried, puked, napped.
But I felt worse for the people who were already there when I got there and were still there when we got called in.
Case in point a young university girl who had fallen and was pretty sure her arm was broken, sat there with a bag of ice that had been on her arm so long that she could have made lukewarm tea in it. She was sleeping in a chair when we left at 6:30.
The funny (and by funny I mean Not-Funny) thing is there were three nurses who sat at the desk and did nothing but drink coffee. They got up and walked back and forth a couple times, and apparently they were “full” but there was only one doctor on…and they aren’t allowed to do anything with out him…
WTF? Unbelievable, unacceptable
End rant -/
Long story short, Phia has a particularly violent case of the pukeys, which will turn to the runny poops. It was scary to see her dehydrated-listless- lifeless, but fortunately she is on the mend, and a spokesgirl for Gatorade!!
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
4.4.06
You say 18 I say 19.5.....
...Sunday marked a milestone in the ol’ training logbook. (James), Jaime and I braved the shrill wind, and cloudy grey (“where da sun go?”) and we did three laps of the alleged 6.5 km blue trail behind the gym here at Gagetown. James is in paratheses because he started the same time as us, but he scampered off into the sunset, like the white rabbit “I’m late, I’m late” and finished well ahead of us slowpokes. It was good to see James out running, as I know being on course has not been conducive to any kind of training or physical fitness.
Let me be a little indulgent and explain a couple things here: the distance completed ranges from 18km by Garmin, to the ‘book’ value of 19.5km. So we’ll call it 18.75 km :). Also this run was conducted as an LSD and took almost exactly 2:00:00. This I (and Jaime) have theorized is good because our respective half marathon goal times are 2:00:00. So we were 2km short and a bit slower than our pace. I could go ad nauseum into the suspected split times and paces but that’s not really the point of the blog, and I don’t wanna break a pencil trying to figure it out ;)
At any rate, I know this was the longest distance I have ever run, and it is the second time I have done this distance. The first time was conducted with Dani, on a whim, outside of any sort of personal training plan, and I felt like a bus had hit me, twice, by run end. As well, Jaime revealed to me that this was her longest training run ever, and far surpassed anything she did previous to the Fredericton Half last year.
Jaime braved the run in shorts, leaving her thighs an alarming red color by run end. Her 10km knee issue did not seem to be too big an issue. I felt very good after the run and it left me with a very comfortable mental feeling that I could complete a half marathon and will be able to uphold my end of the bargain at the CTRR.
So Thanks Andy, thanks Kara, thanks Jaime and James…It’s all working…*knock on wood*
Til next time…
Let me be a little indulgent and explain a couple things here: the distance completed ranges from 18km by Garmin, to the ‘book’ value of 19.5km. So we’ll call it 18.75 km :). Also this run was conducted as an LSD and took almost exactly 2:00:00. This I (and Jaime) have theorized is good because our respective half marathon goal times are 2:00:00. So we were 2km short and a bit slower than our pace. I could go ad nauseum into the suspected split times and paces but that’s not really the point of the blog, and I don’t wanna break a pencil trying to figure it out ;)
At any rate, I know this was the longest distance I have ever run, and it is the second time I have done this distance. The first time was conducted with Dani, on a whim, outside of any sort of personal training plan, and I felt like a bus had hit me, twice, by run end. As well, Jaime revealed to me that this was her longest training run ever, and far surpassed anything she did previous to the Fredericton Half last year.
Jaime braved the run in shorts, leaving her thighs an alarming red color by run end. Her 10km knee issue did not seem to be too big an issue. I felt very good after the run and it left me with a very comfortable mental feeling that I could complete a half marathon and will be able to uphold my end of the bargain at the CTRR.
So Thanks Andy, thanks Kara, thanks Jaime and James…It’s all working…*knock on wood*
Til next time…
31.3.06
A Large Day
And I mean that in the most positive way possible. I am not speaking of a “fat” day, or a guilt day. Just leaving the house this morning, without a jacket, with sun shining the whole day seemed large and open before me.
It could be directly attributable to the fact we are on our fourth amazing day in a row, at least morning, and I speak in terms of weather. The suns is bright, greens are starting to look green, reds more reddish. I have really felt like nature has been literally coming back to life. The funny thing is, the winter wasn’t that bad at all. It was mild, and we did have a fair amount of precipitation (rain and snow) but not much to really call over whelming. But there was a real feeling of dreary, of winter. I think this week has kind of been like an old dog getting up and shaking the cobwebs off.
It could be my inevitable reaction to payday, on a Friday. And the fact that Kara and I have plans for the weekend, nothing stringent, restrictive or dire. For that matter nothing overly elaborate or awe inspiring either. Just plans with the kiddos, and with friends.
There is the distinct and definite possibility that the BBQ will be churning and burning most of the weekend, and that our friends will be on hand to share good times with. These moments have started to become bittersweet as we are picking and moving on in few months, as are two of the friends involved in our weekend plans.
My reaction this morning could have been for this morning and sharing the love of my kids, (before the #$%^in sun came up) or the love of my wife who remained lazily in bed, with a grin on her face, long after the sun came up!
Before this blog runs on with me and goes on longer that it should I will come to somewhat of an indulgent and personally profound conclusion.
Today is a large day; there are infinite possibilities in every moment. The is so much possibility for joy and good times for the next bit that it could outweigh everything but the most catastrophic turn of events.
It is a Friday without borders.
It could be directly attributable to the fact we are on our fourth amazing day in a row, at least morning, and I speak in terms of weather. The suns is bright, greens are starting to look green, reds more reddish. I have really felt like nature has been literally coming back to life. The funny thing is, the winter wasn’t that bad at all. It was mild, and we did have a fair amount of precipitation (rain and snow) but not much to really call over whelming. But there was a real feeling of dreary, of winter. I think this week has kind of been like an old dog getting up and shaking the cobwebs off.
It could be my inevitable reaction to payday, on a Friday. And the fact that Kara and I have plans for the weekend, nothing stringent, restrictive or dire. For that matter nothing overly elaborate or awe inspiring either. Just plans with the kiddos, and with friends.
There is the distinct and definite possibility that the BBQ will be churning and burning most of the weekend, and that our friends will be on hand to share good times with. These moments have started to become bittersweet as we are picking and moving on in few months, as are two of the friends involved in our weekend plans.
My reaction this morning could have been for this morning and sharing the love of my kids, (before the #$%^in sun came up) or the love of my wife who remained lazily in bed, with a grin on her face, long after the sun came up!
Before this blog runs on with me and goes on longer that it should I will come to somewhat of an indulgent and personally profound conclusion.
Today is a large day; there are infinite possibilities in every moment. The is so much possibility for joy and good times for the next bit that it could outweigh everything but the most catastrophic turn of events.
It is a Friday without borders.
29.3.06
An Awesome Tuesday!!!
Well, I do believe Spring is here, (and yes I have likely jinxed us to one more bad turn of weather) and I consider it official as yesterday marked the first day of barbeque season for the Lang family.
On the weekend, Kara made reference, in passing, to the barbeque. Of course I’ve been following the weather ever since. Yesterday, Tuesday, was an awesome day. It was an awesome day for running and an awesome day for barbecuing.
Both Kara and I got excellent runs in yesterday; I got a quick 6.5km run in at the trails behind the gym, and Kara did her first hill work out just round the block from the house. So what better way to get to suppertime!
Bubba was in the yard the whole time and was initiated on the “BBQ”! After a few tense moments wondering if it would light (we weren’t sure how much propane we had) WHOOSH! We were in business, and Bubba and I both kept our eyebrows.
There were a couple of spiders that dropped out of the barbeque after lighting and Bubba got a big stick and moved them safely to the driveway, where Phia put them out of there misery…we’ll have to work on compassion…
At any rate a short time later we enjoyed an amazing supper of grilled pork chops, with Bullseye BBq sauce, grilled sweet potato and zucchini, and sautéed mushrooms and onions….
Great recovery food!!
Nathaniel is hoping for nice weather Sunday, and so am I, BBQ’d Pancakes here we come…!!!! YUMMY!
Happy barbecuing all!!
Til Next Time.
On the weekend, Kara made reference, in passing, to the barbeque. Of course I’ve been following the weather ever since. Yesterday, Tuesday, was an awesome day. It was an awesome day for running and an awesome day for barbecuing.
Both Kara and I got excellent runs in yesterday; I got a quick 6.5km run in at the trails behind the gym, and Kara did her first hill work out just round the block from the house. So what better way to get to suppertime!
Bubba was in the yard the whole time and was initiated on the “BBQ”! After a few tense moments wondering if it would light (we weren’t sure how much propane we had) WHOOSH! We were in business, and Bubba and I both kept our eyebrows.
There were a couple of spiders that dropped out of the barbeque after lighting and Bubba got a big stick and moved them safely to the driveway, where Phia put them out of there misery…we’ll have to work on compassion…
At any rate a short time later we enjoyed an amazing supper of grilled pork chops, with Bullseye BBq sauce, grilled sweet potato and zucchini, and sautéed mushrooms and onions….
Great recovery food!!
Nathaniel is hoping for nice weather Sunday, and so am I, BBQ’d Pancakes here we come…!!!! YUMMY!
Happy barbecuing all!!
Til Next Time.
28.3.06
Why I didn't do my LSD on Sunday.
Sadly, the following statement is true. It is the account of a man, whose ego has been not just bruised, but taken outside the local pub and given a “severe talking to” by the local hoodlums.
When we first moved to Oromocto we bought Nathaniel a Safety First tricycle, it was blue and yellow. They were neutral enough colors that we hoped Sophia would not become offended when it was handed down to her. It had nice big rubber tires and a no slip patch on the axle. Our PMQ is designed in such a way that there is a doorway from the kitchen to living room and both connect to the dining room. Thus creating a great racetrack in the house for Nathaniel to practice on. And practice he did, he got so good that last year Kara and I bought Nathaniel a small bike; it is black and red, with cool training wheels. It became his most prized possession. He would put on his glossy black helmet, and his Harley Davidson ™ leather jacket and ride relentlessly up and down the sidewalk in front of our house. He was like a gang member cruising his turf, back and forth, back and forth. He would be out there rain or shine and was noticed two weeks in a row by a photographer from the local paper, who snapped his picture and lo and behold he ended up in the newspaper.
Since last summer we have experimented a couple of times with taking his training wheels of and he rode/fell around the basement with reckless abandon. The experiment was short lived once we went outside, as there was no furniture to hang onto on the sidewalk. At any rate Nathaniel knows spring has sprung and he has been racing lap after lap in the basement, getting his form some would say.
I told you that to tell you this.
The date was 26 March 2006, a Sunday. It started as a normal day, like most other Sunday’s (with ice cream and nuts, oh wrong Sundae). It started with pancakes and coffee, and some nice family time. Kara put the finishing coat of paint on what used to be a dreary brown vanity that is now a Debbie Travis Creamy White buffet. And I was preparing to run 13km later that afternoon.
For the sake of brevity I ask you to accept the normalcy of the Sunday, and we’ll fast forward to the afternoon, when I again prove how big an idiot I can be. Nathaniel and I were watching the Nextel Cup Nascar Race from Bristol Tennessee on Fox. (Can I hear groaning already?) Nathaniel started doing the figure eight track around and around the basement. Off the carpet round the pole, on the carpet, around the couch. Off the carpet round the pole, on the carpet, around the couch. Off the carpet round the pole, on the carpet, around the couch.
The race went to a commercial so I got up and started chasing him around, and then I spotted it. The ironically named Safety First Tricycle. I stepped on the back grabbed the handlebars and gave a test push across the carpet, “YES, we’re in business now!!” Now, whenever Nathaniel wants to ride his bike in the basement he needs two things: his helmet, and sneakers. Why dad felt he could ignore this rule, I’ll never know. The first fourteen laps or so were eventless, a lot of giggling, yelling, bantering. And we had the figure eight track down, we were perfectly choreographed, barely missing one another, and in retrospect there was no warning, not even a hint that something could go wrong. Of course one could point out that there is something hinting at, no SCREAMING that there is something categorically wrong with a grown man racing around his basement at break neck speed on a kids Safety First Tricycle…in sock feet.
Lap 15.
Dad comes past the cat litter too fast and too aggressively into the right hand hairpin turn around the pole. There was a bizarre and surreal moment when the tricycle was sliding on one wheel, the right rear wheel, when I could hear the Nextel Cup announcer saying matter-of-factly, “Looks like the dad has gotten loose in turn three” I thought everything was going to be okay. Then my sock foot slipped on the no slip foot spot and my momentum (and weight) shot through to opening at the rear of the tricycle and kept going until the left pedal caught my ankle abruptly.
There was a delicious slap as my 185 pounds hit the bare grey concrete floor. I looked across my stunned body to see my right leg painfully tied into a pretzel in the tricycle.
Nathaniel is a smart boy; this time there was no laughing when dad fell. He rolled up in his helmet and sneakers, and applied the brakes on his bike correctly then looked down at one half of his genetic donation (scornfully?) and said “Ow dad, that hurt?” I groaned “Ima go get mum.” And he tears off up the stairs.
I don’t need to go on. I haven’t run since, I’m still limping a bit. Kara has been challenging me as to how I am going to explain my old man limp to every one. I told her I’d be direct, to the point, and lie. But this was too good a story, even at my own expense, to pass up. I’ll probably run today. Maybe not 13km, and maybe not fast…
When we first moved to Oromocto we bought Nathaniel a Safety First tricycle, it was blue and yellow. They were neutral enough colors that we hoped Sophia would not become offended when it was handed down to her. It had nice big rubber tires and a no slip patch on the axle. Our PMQ is designed in such a way that there is a doorway from the kitchen to living room and both connect to the dining room. Thus creating a great racetrack in the house for Nathaniel to practice on. And practice he did, he got so good that last year Kara and I bought Nathaniel a small bike; it is black and red, with cool training wheels. It became his most prized possession. He would put on his glossy black helmet, and his Harley Davidson ™ leather jacket and ride relentlessly up and down the sidewalk in front of our house. He was like a gang member cruising his turf, back and forth, back and forth. He would be out there rain or shine and was noticed two weeks in a row by a photographer from the local paper, who snapped his picture and lo and behold he ended up in the newspaper.
Since last summer we have experimented a couple of times with taking his training wheels of and he rode/fell around the basement with reckless abandon. The experiment was short lived once we went outside, as there was no furniture to hang onto on the sidewalk. At any rate Nathaniel knows spring has sprung and he has been racing lap after lap in the basement, getting his form some would say.
I told you that to tell you this.
The date was 26 March 2006, a Sunday. It started as a normal day, like most other Sunday’s (with ice cream and nuts, oh wrong Sundae). It started with pancakes and coffee, and some nice family time. Kara put the finishing coat of paint on what used to be a dreary brown vanity that is now a Debbie Travis Creamy White buffet. And I was preparing to run 13km later that afternoon.
For the sake of brevity I ask you to accept the normalcy of the Sunday, and we’ll fast forward to the afternoon, when I again prove how big an idiot I can be. Nathaniel and I were watching the Nextel Cup Nascar Race from Bristol Tennessee on Fox. (Can I hear groaning already?) Nathaniel started doing the figure eight track around and around the basement. Off the carpet round the pole, on the carpet, around the couch. Off the carpet round the pole, on the carpet, around the couch. Off the carpet round the pole, on the carpet, around the couch.
The race went to a commercial so I got up and started chasing him around, and then I spotted it. The ironically named Safety First Tricycle. I stepped on the back grabbed the handlebars and gave a test push across the carpet, “YES, we’re in business now!!” Now, whenever Nathaniel wants to ride his bike in the basement he needs two things: his helmet, and sneakers. Why dad felt he could ignore this rule, I’ll never know. The first fourteen laps or so were eventless, a lot of giggling, yelling, bantering. And we had the figure eight track down, we were perfectly choreographed, barely missing one another, and in retrospect there was no warning, not even a hint that something could go wrong. Of course one could point out that there is something hinting at, no SCREAMING that there is something categorically wrong with a grown man racing around his basement at break neck speed on a kids Safety First Tricycle…in sock feet.
Lap 15.
Dad comes past the cat litter too fast and too aggressively into the right hand hairpin turn around the pole. There was a bizarre and surreal moment when the tricycle was sliding on one wheel, the right rear wheel, when I could hear the Nextel Cup announcer saying matter-of-factly, “Looks like the dad has gotten loose in turn three” I thought everything was going to be okay. Then my sock foot slipped on the no slip foot spot and my momentum (and weight) shot through to opening at the rear of the tricycle and kept going until the left pedal caught my ankle abruptly.
There was a delicious slap as my 185 pounds hit the bare grey concrete floor. I looked across my stunned body to see my right leg painfully tied into a pretzel in the tricycle.
Nathaniel is a smart boy; this time there was no laughing when dad fell. He rolled up in his helmet and sneakers, and applied the brakes on his bike correctly then looked down at one half of his genetic donation (scornfully?) and said “Ow dad, that hurt?” I groaned “Ima go get mum.” And he tears off up the stairs.
I don’t need to go on. I haven’t run since, I’m still limping a bit. Kara has been challenging me as to how I am going to explain my old man limp to every one. I told her I’d be direct, to the point, and lie. But this was too good a story, even at my own expense, to pass up. I’ll probably run today. Maybe not 13km, and maybe not fast…
A Little Advice
I recently had a close friend of mine, a displaced (or misplaced) Newf http://fieldbehindtheplow.blogspot.com (shameless plug)
write me an email fearing he had taken steps that would have been catastrophic to his male psyche. He had out of the goodness of his heart offered to vacuum, and clean…yes, I can feel all the males shuddering…Fortunately, I was able to intervene and send him the following email which should rectify the entire situation.
"I think you may have taken your first step down the path of irreversible domestication my friend. I have the following 4-step program to help you break the habit.
1- Stop at a bar on your way home from work, get pie-eyed
2- Leave bar got to liquor store, max out credit card
3- Come home, leave your shoes on and walk to the TV (stop at bathroom if necessary) turn on picture in picture sports channels.
4- Say things like "Hey you make me a sandwich," or "get me another beer," or "go wash my car...inside and out"
5- repeat as required.
Of course if this proves to be unsuccessful, use the following action in case of emergency.
1- Stop at Wal-Mart on your way home from work, get seashells for the back of toilet, and some flowers, for her, not the toilet.
2- Leave Wal-Mart go to jewelry store, max out credit card
3- Come home, take your shoes off, walk to the kitchen (stop at bathroom and put seashells on toilet) turn on front burner and back burner of stove as you prepare the latest gourmet fiesta you saw on Martha Stewart reruns instead of sports (The glazed lemon chicken is great…it worked for me)
4- Say things like "Hey baby, let me make you a sandwich" or "let me get you another glass of wine" or let me run a bath for you, and give you a pedicure after"
5- repeat everyday, for the rest of your life."
Well I never claimed to be Dear Abby, but in a totally unrelated note; I heard the memorial service will be early next week, and there will be no viewing. I guess he didn't read the "IN CASE OF EMERGENCY!" fast enough. Oops.
write me an email fearing he had taken steps that would have been catastrophic to his male psyche. He had out of the goodness of his heart offered to vacuum, and clean…yes, I can feel all the males shuddering…Fortunately, I was able to intervene and send him the following email which should rectify the entire situation.
"I think you may have taken your first step down the path of irreversible domestication my friend. I have the following 4-step program to help you break the habit.
1- Stop at a bar on your way home from work, get pie-eyed
2- Leave bar got to liquor store, max out credit card
3- Come home, leave your shoes on and walk to the TV (stop at bathroom if necessary) turn on picture in picture sports channels.
4- Say things like "Hey you make me a sandwich," or "get me another beer," or "go wash my car...inside and out"
5- repeat as required.
Of course if this proves to be unsuccessful, use the following action in case of emergency.
1- Stop at Wal-Mart on your way home from work, get seashells for the back of toilet, and some flowers, for her, not the toilet.
2- Leave Wal-Mart go to jewelry store, max out credit card
3- Come home, take your shoes off, walk to the kitchen (stop at bathroom and put seashells on toilet) turn on front burner and back burner of stove as you prepare the latest gourmet fiesta you saw on Martha Stewart reruns instead of sports (The glazed lemon chicken is great…it worked for me)
4- Say things like "Hey baby, let me make you a sandwich" or "let me get you another glass of wine" or let me run a bath for you, and give you a pedicure after"
5- repeat everyday, for the rest of your life."
Well I never claimed to be Dear Abby, but in a totally unrelated note; I heard the memorial service will be early next week, and there will be no viewing. I guess he didn't read the "IN CASE OF EMERGENCY!" fast enough. Oops.
22.3.06
The Running...
This past Sunday was a good day for running. I had hydrated the night before and actually planned on doing the 15km run.
Don't let me mislead you, dear reader, I did do the run. But what was unique is I normally approach my Long Run on Sunday's with out approaching it. What I mean is: I book the time, make sure the family is in the loop, and wait patiently until I am three- four kilometres into the run before yelling "SURPRISE!!" and acknowledging the fact that, "Yes, I am doing a long run," and "No, I did not prepare for this." Which is the truth because personal mental subversion is not akin to actual preparation. This past Sunday I prepared to meet my running partners J2 complete with water bottle and snack.
The run itself was refreshing and fun, as refreshing and fun as the Lincoln Road can be. James set off at his blistering slow pace and Jaime and I followed, conversing about everything but the plight of 21st Century humankind. It was a good run.
I have run since a slow recovery 6km and plan on 8km tomorrow (Thursday). I am building confidence heading towards my first Half Marathon, the Fredericton Half, about 50 days away!!! I am a firm believer in establishing confidence and skills, and developing a plan is a key aspect of that. With HCD's help I have a strong plan that has brought me this far, and he has done the same for Kara.
This upcoiming Half marathon and tag along Cabot Trail Relay (CTRR) were to be the gateway to my running season, my first running season. However, the best laid plans of mice and men, (tell me about the rabbits...) Details are coming in as to my professional future... but that is another blog for another time....
Til next time...
Don't let me mislead you, dear reader, I did do the run. But what was unique is I normally approach my Long Run on Sunday's with out approaching it. What I mean is: I book the time, make sure the family is in the loop, and wait patiently until I am three- four kilometres into the run before yelling "SURPRISE!!" and acknowledging the fact that, "Yes, I am doing a long run," and "No, I did not prepare for this." Which is the truth because personal mental subversion is not akin to actual preparation. This past Sunday I prepared to meet my running partners J2 complete with water bottle and snack.
The run itself was refreshing and fun, as refreshing and fun as the Lincoln Road can be. James set off at his blistering slow pace and Jaime and I followed, conversing about everything but the plight of 21st Century humankind. It was a good run.
I have run since a slow recovery 6km and plan on 8km tomorrow (Thursday). I am building confidence heading towards my first Half Marathon, the Fredericton Half, about 50 days away!!! I am a firm believer in establishing confidence and skills, and developing a plan is a key aspect of that. With HCD's help I have a strong plan that has brought me this far, and he has done the same for Kara.
This upcoiming Half marathon and tag along Cabot Trail Relay (CTRR) were to be the gateway to my running season, my first running season. However, the best laid plans of mice and men, (tell me about the rabbits...) Details are coming in as to my professional future... but that is another blog for another time....
Til next time...
17.3.06
TGIF
Hello reader,
Sometimes its just good when Friday comes along, y'ah know?
I had my first go at speedwork this week. I thought of adding them back at the beginning of my training plan (January) but took them out so I could concentrate on building my base. After the success of 11 March I decided to toss them into my weekly routine in order to build up a little for the Fredericton Half.
I developed my speedwork timings according to the FIRST HM program in one of the recent Runners Worlds. I based my timing and calculations on a 2:04:53 Goal Time, Though in reality I am hoping to break 2:00:00. What my calcualtions determined...
Pace (based on 9:32 HMP: 2:04:53 Goal Time)
Speed
400m = 2:01
800m = 4:08
1600 = 8:53
Tempo ->9:02 / mile
Long->10:02 / mile
Sometimes its just good when Friday comes along, y'ah know?
I had my first go at speedwork this week. I thought of adding them back at the beginning of my training plan (January) but took them out so I could concentrate on building my base. After the success of 11 March I decided to toss them into my weekly routine in order to build up a little for the Fredericton Half.
I developed my speedwork timings according to the FIRST HM program in one of the recent Runners Worlds. I based my timing and calculations on a 2:04:53 Goal Time, Though in reality I am hoping to break 2:00:00. What my calcualtions determined...
Pace (based on 9:32 HMP: 2:04:53 Goal Time)
Speed
400m = 2:01
800m = 4:08
1600 = 8:53
Tempo ->9:02 / mile
Long->10:02 / mile
So I did 4x800m. The first thing I must say is as a military guy I am lucky that I get full access to the gym for free, and we are expected to utilize the facilities to the maximum. This is great, except for week day mornings when every one on base tries to do PT at the same bloody time. There was literally 100 people trying to use the 200m indoor track!!!
Anyway I did the first 800 m way too fast...and it got better from there.
Friday saw a great tread mill 6.5km
But Kara has just arrived to remind me it is Friday with,
"Do you want a Pina Colada?"
"Sure"
"Okay get of the damn computer and help me open my coconut"
"......?"
"Yeah I have the dremel out"
"!!"
Til next time...
13.3.06
Who Knows?
Who knows what could happen.
Do what you do, just keep on laughing
One thing's true, there's always a brand new day
Avril Levigne “Who Knows?” Under My Skin 2004
It’s odd what inspiration can strike you and when, or what can strike you as profound. Music always seems to hit me, get me, slap me, inspire me. Normally I listen to whatever music is popular, though I do remain faithful to bands and singers that have always impressed me.
I have always had a thing for female singers. Especially ones who can be vulnerable and strong at the same time. Sarah Brightman is a classic example I always use, and probably ranks as the most adored female singer in my world anyway. I think the woman could yodel the ingredients in Preparation H and I’d be happy… but I digress.
Today I was hanging out with the kiddos, playing a silly game on msn, and as per normal I had music filling the void behind the game. I’ve been in a Avril Levigne mood for most of the day, I think I had heard a snippet of a song yesterday and it festered in my brain like a piece of popcorn between my teeth.
At any rate “Who Knows?” started and I found the lyrics particularly poignant. And I told Nathaniel, where he’s almost old enough to get it, to remember tomorrow is a brand new day. He said, “I know dad, tomorrow we live in Moncton, and I go to school.” I smiled, and replied, “Yes buddy it is. As long as you tell time with a calendar.” He looked at me like I had a toaster on my head….
The song has new meaning to me now, so if you get a chance listen to it, study the lyrics, and enjoy.
That’s all, not much a blog. But no matter where you go there you are.
Til Next time…
11.3.06
I thought my heart would burst.
As a side note, and by no means a lesser sidenote, I want of make quick mention of Kara's performance today.
If anyone told me a year a go that Kara would ever run 10k I would have laughed at them, I am not trying to be mean, and I know Kara would agree with me.
But in August she got off the couch and started chugging. In October she ran her first real event at the Run for the Cure. She did 5k in just over 35 minutes. To snobbish elite that is a time to be scorned, for Couch Potatoe royalty it is a time to be marvelled.
So, with the lead up to today Kara had completed several runs in and around 10 km, topping out I believe at 13km. She approached these as LSD's and her best time previous for 10k was around 1:20.
Also leading up to today's events Kara went through some jitters, wondering if she prepared enough, wondering if she would have the mental fortitude to complete a 10km race, (no matter how sparse)
But let me just say, Kara ran the whole event, and when I saw her come over the hill as I went back to see her, my heart leapt. Her she came still chugging, smile on her face, grooving to her music.
She picked up her pace and finished strong.
I was so proud i though my heart would burst.
Good job, baby!!!
If anyone told me a year a go that Kara would ever run 10k I would have laughed at them, I am not trying to be mean, and I know Kara would agree with me.
But in August she got off the couch and started chugging. In October she ran her first real event at the Run for the Cure. She did 5k in just over 35 minutes. To snobbish elite that is a time to be scorned, for Couch Potatoe royalty it is a time to be marvelled.
So, with the lead up to today Kara had completed several runs in and around 10 km, topping out I believe at 13km. She approached these as LSD's and her best time previous for 10k was around 1:20.
Also leading up to today's events Kara went through some jitters, wondering if she prepared enough, wondering if she would have the mental fortitude to complete a 10km race, (no matter how sparse)
But let me just say, Kara ran the whole event, and when I saw her come over the hill as I went back to see her, my heart leapt. Her she came still chugging, smile on her face, grooving to her music.
She picked up her pace and finished strong.
I was so proud i though my heart would burst.
Good job, baby!!!
Solitude and The Age of Disappointment
Let me begin by saying: I do not want to insult or offend any one over the age of thirty who reads this. Now you’ve all said, “oh…great”
I turned thirty not that long ago, and I wondered if the Age of Disappointment had come.
By Age of Disappointment I do not mean a catastrophic ‘end of an era’ that meant my life was going to be one big plummeting spiral to the toilet from this point on, but more of a quiet realization that my “potential energy” was losing steam.
What I mean: when I was younger I had hopes and dreams of athletic success, and I truly mean unrealistic multimillion-dollar career dreams. There were also dreams of moviemaking, acting or directing my way to winning Oscar’s, or doing the talk show circuit, etc etc.
And recently after a conversation with Kara had realized I had had similar dreams of writing success, Stephen King-like success.
But though people have enjoyed what I have read, I believe I have always lacked the disciple and ability to polish whatever talents I possessed.
When I took up running for fun in August, in effort to share the wave of Kara’s enthusiasm, I had begun to have similar ideas. Though I enjoyed the running and saw great progress in consistent and coherent training I wondered if my prime had already passed and that I had given the potential of my twenties over to challenging Alexander Keith and Ronald MacDonald.
So in recent months I set goals of the Cabot Trail Relay Race and the Fredericton Half Marathon. As a side note James and Jaime got me into the possibility of doing the Fredericton Half in 2005. I started training with them, with nary a clue as to what I was really doing, and not only did I become intimidated by two athletic, and skinny people (they will challenge me on this but they are far closer to if not bang on their ideal weight than I!) but I also went and had a Vasectomy. Talk about the catastrophic end of an era…though it is a story for another time…
Needless to say, my “training” took a “hiatus”. But I digress.
I have approached the upcoming “Race Season” more adequately called “Event Season” with vigor and intelligence. I have seen steady improvement that has kept me going. So today March 11 2006 I have hit close the halfway point in my training plan and a RR March Break Away 5K and 10k fell perfectly on today. Not only was this a perfect opportunity for the four of us to run together, for us to challenge our selves, but also raise a few dollars for the Rotary Club.
The past week had seen near perfect weather, for March anyway. It was warm, sunny, and the wind was not playing too much havoc. So when the slushy crap landed on Thursday we feared the worst. But the weather cooperated, and this morning the weather was warmish, the ground was close to dry, and the wind was howling like a gale force storm. If we had been boats…
As we arrived at “the potatoe place” there was confusion, searching for the registration van, and more importantly looking for the pee place.
The set up was sparse, with only a small clot of cold impatient runners. No fanfare, no freebies (except safety pins), not water tables…We just got our bibs, a little warm-up, a couple words and then…go.
Now that I have spent so much time on build up, here comes the kicker. I don’t remember much of the race.
I remember saying over and over to myself, “Set your pace, run your race”
I remember the kilometer marking on the ground in blue chalk. And they seemed to come quicker than I expected.
I remember the wall of wind that hit me after the third turn, especially on the second lap. And then upon reflection, I realized that we ran almost 2/3s of the race into the wind.
I remember trying to catch the “damn woman in the blue jacket” who remained frustratingly 200-300m ahead of me.
I remembered thinking of Kara, and wondered how she was doing.
I spent almost the race alone. There was a bit of shuffling at the beginning, but because of the small numbers we all found our niche and ran in it. The biggest thing I remember besides my result is the realization that running is a truly solitary sport. I had no gadgets, no watch, nor MP3 player.
Just the sounds of the race, the wind, my feet, the traffic, the cursed wind.
There is absolute truth in running. If you do it with out distraction you can come face to face with yourself.
It all went quick, and my results surprised me. Given the wind, given, the fact I spent most of my work this winter on a treadmill with out hills, or yes hah-ha no wind.
It was to be a day of personal bests.
10km 53:38.
Given all that I have said, Screw thirty; I think the age of disappointment can wait. I am so happy, so content, and so proud. It was just a good day.
I turned thirty not that long ago, and I wondered if the Age of Disappointment had come.
By Age of Disappointment I do not mean a catastrophic ‘end of an era’ that meant my life was going to be one big plummeting spiral to the toilet from this point on, but more of a quiet realization that my “potential energy” was losing steam.
What I mean: when I was younger I had hopes and dreams of athletic success, and I truly mean unrealistic multimillion-dollar career dreams. There were also dreams of moviemaking, acting or directing my way to winning Oscar’s, or doing the talk show circuit, etc etc.
And recently after a conversation with Kara had realized I had had similar dreams of writing success, Stephen King-like success.
But though people have enjoyed what I have read, I believe I have always lacked the disciple and ability to polish whatever talents I possessed.
When I took up running for fun in August, in effort to share the wave of Kara’s enthusiasm, I had begun to have similar ideas. Though I enjoyed the running and saw great progress in consistent and coherent training I wondered if my prime had already passed and that I had given the potential of my twenties over to challenging Alexander Keith and Ronald MacDonald.
So in recent months I set goals of the Cabot Trail Relay Race and the Fredericton Half Marathon. As a side note James and Jaime got me into the possibility of doing the Fredericton Half in 2005. I started training with them, with nary a clue as to what I was really doing, and not only did I become intimidated by two athletic, and skinny people (they will challenge me on this but they are far closer to if not bang on their ideal weight than I!) but I also went and had a Vasectomy. Talk about the catastrophic end of an era…though it is a story for another time…
Needless to say, my “training” took a “hiatus”. But I digress.
I have approached the upcoming “Race Season” more adequately called “Event Season” with vigor and intelligence. I have seen steady improvement that has kept me going. So today March 11 2006 I have hit close the halfway point in my training plan and a RR March Break Away 5K and 10k fell perfectly on today. Not only was this a perfect opportunity for the four of us to run together, for us to challenge our selves, but also raise a few dollars for the Rotary Club.
The past week had seen near perfect weather, for March anyway. It was warm, sunny, and the wind was not playing too much havoc. So when the slushy crap landed on Thursday we feared the worst. But the weather cooperated, and this morning the weather was warmish, the ground was close to dry, and the wind was howling like a gale force storm. If we had been boats…
As we arrived at “the potatoe place” there was confusion, searching for the registration van, and more importantly looking for the pee place.
The set up was sparse, with only a small clot of cold impatient runners. No fanfare, no freebies (except safety pins), not water tables…We just got our bibs, a little warm-up, a couple words and then…go.
Now that I have spent so much time on build up, here comes the kicker. I don’t remember much of the race.
I remember saying over and over to myself, “Set your pace, run your race”
I remember the kilometer marking on the ground in blue chalk. And they seemed to come quicker than I expected.
I remember the wall of wind that hit me after the third turn, especially on the second lap. And then upon reflection, I realized that we ran almost 2/3s of the race into the wind.
I remember trying to catch the “damn woman in the blue jacket” who remained frustratingly 200-300m ahead of me.
I remembered thinking of Kara, and wondered how she was doing.
I spent almost the race alone. There was a bit of shuffling at the beginning, but because of the small numbers we all found our niche and ran in it. The biggest thing I remember besides my result is the realization that running is a truly solitary sport. I had no gadgets, no watch, nor MP3 player.
Just the sounds of the race, the wind, my feet, the traffic, the cursed wind.
There is absolute truth in running. If you do it with out distraction you can come face to face with yourself.
It all went quick, and my results surprised me. Given the wind, given, the fact I spent most of my work this winter on a treadmill with out hills, or yes hah-ha no wind.
It was to be a day of personal bests.
10km 53:38.
Given all that I have said, Screw thirty; I think the age of disappointment can wait. I am so happy, so content, and so proud. It was just a good day.
Prerace
Well, it's just after midnight. Nine hours-ish til race time. We just got back from Jx2, they laid out a wonderful carb loading spaghetti super complete with a decadent carrot cake for desert...
No real jitters, wondering how it feels to do 10k not at a forced event.
We'll see.
I'll let youz all know.
No real jitters, wondering how it feels to do 10k not at a forced event.
We'll see.
I'll let youz all know.
10.3.06
Links
Dear Reader,
Just a quick explantion of my links.
The first one is the normal Blogger link so yu can get your own.
The Yin-Yang crouching tiger, hidden dragon style is a link to a online version of the Tao te Ching, a resource of sorts that I find a lot of wisdom in on a daily basis.
The Running man in Circle is the logo for RunningMania, a great (predominantly Canadian) website that offers a lot of open discussion about running, training, eating, multisporting, and Manties...
The "Sheva" link is to the website of a friend of ours, Sheva Solomon. She is embarking on what will be a very successful career in music. Kara and I met and worked with her at Upper Clements Park and we shared the "honor and priveldge" of being on the entertainment staff. Also, worth noting that Sheva sang at our wedding back in the day...along with Stephane Desraspe, also from UCP and key element to...
Shaydid, my last link for now. They are a band out of NS that are also starting to take off. They have toured the maritimes and Ontario a lot and are bound for bigger things.
That's all for now.
Til Next Time,
Just a quick explantion of my links.
The first one is the normal Blogger link so yu can get your own.
The Yin-Yang crouching tiger, hidden dragon style is a link to a online version of the Tao te Ching, a resource of sorts that I find a lot of wisdom in on a daily basis.
The Running man in Circle is the logo for RunningMania, a great (predominantly Canadian) website that offers a lot of open discussion about running, training, eating, multisporting, and Manties...
The "Sheva" link is to the website of a friend of ours, Sheva Solomon. She is embarking on what will be a very successful career in music. Kara and I met and worked with her at Upper Clements Park and we shared the "honor and priveldge" of being on the entertainment staff. Also, worth noting that Sheva sang at our wedding back in the day...along with Stephane Desraspe, also from UCP and key element to...
Shaydid, my last link for now. They are a band out of NS that are also starting to take off. They have toured the maritimes and Ontario a lot and are bound for bigger things.
That's all for now.
Til Next Time,
Raven-
Our young little Black Lab. And right now the unfortunate victim of my/ our inconsistency.
I thought that things had been going great. Raven has started behaviors that were acceptable. Responding to Kara and me when called, and even Bubba too. She has been learning to sit, and learning to stay. These are things that we (and Raven) have started by accident, rather than by design. And, I don’t foresee to many leash problems once we (I) work out a regular walking schedule for us.
But there have still been some issues that I guess I need to address; as my ears are still ringing from the twenty-minute wakeup call Kara gave me. Raven is still chewing too much, and chewing the wrong things, not the least of which is Kara’s favorite undergarments, kids toys, and some other unmentionables. There has also been the issue of Raven still using the bathroom inside the house. This happens a lot less than before, but still way too often. What I have learned is that it takes a lot more diligence and surveillance on our (my) behalf.
So today, hopefully we can trun over a new leaf for Raven before things get outta control. I’ve looked into a bunch of great websites and maybe I’ll list them later, but as a basic start her is a decent one with twelve great tips for dog training.
http://www.inch.com/~dogs/twelvetips.html also
http://www.perfectpaws.com
Til next time,
I thought that things had been going great. Raven has started behaviors that were acceptable. Responding to Kara and me when called, and even Bubba too. She has been learning to sit, and learning to stay. These are things that we (and Raven) have started by accident, rather than by design. And, I don’t foresee to many leash problems once we (I) work out a regular walking schedule for us.
But there have still been some issues that I guess I need to address; as my ears are still ringing from the twenty-minute wakeup call Kara gave me. Raven is still chewing too much, and chewing the wrong things, not the least of which is Kara’s favorite undergarments, kids toys, and some other unmentionables. There has also been the issue of Raven still using the bathroom inside the house. This happens a lot less than before, but still way too often. What I have learned is that it takes a lot more diligence and surveillance on our (my) behalf.
So today, hopefully we can trun over a new leaf for Raven before things get outta control. I’ve looked into a bunch of great websites and maybe I’ll list them later, but as a basic start her is a decent one with twelve great tips for dog training.
http://www.inch.com/~dogs/twelvetips.html also
http://www.perfectpaws.com
Til next time,
The End of an Era...
..and I can’t say that I am sad to see it go.
“TORONTO -- The Canadian Tire couple is no more. When the retailer unveiled its new spring ad campaign yesterday, the bearded handyman Ted and his wife Gloria were nowhere to be seen. The famous pitch-couple had been showing off innovative products for the hardware chain for almost a decade. Canadian Tire said the couple's "demo-mercials" were effective, but research showed they were starting to wear on consumers.”
I know it’s petty, and foolish. But “Ted” always drove me nuts…no pun intended. He always had the perfect tool for even the most obscure problems and always seemed to arrive like a super smug superhero.
And as Kara has said in the past, “is it really camping when you take a TV, a DVD player, a lamp, a laptop, an Xbox, and powertools when you’re camping in the great outdoors just because you brought an Eliminator ™?” To me the Eliminator is what is used to power your laptop to play solitaire when in the field pulling night duty in the CP when its miserable out.
I really loved the commercial about the tires when “Naïve Guy” slides through intersections on bald tires. And good old Ted looks at him and thinks, “Ha, that bastard is going to die in a fiery ball of flaming winter death, but not me- I bought these great tires from Canadian Tire”
Well, we’ll see what is on next for Ted and Gloria, maybe some speaking parts on Corner Gas or something of the like. I wonder if their severance pay will be in Canadian Tire Money?
Til next time,
8.3.06
Karma
Dear Reader,
This one is not so old, less than a year. More parental genuis.
Til next time.
Somehow I think Karma (not Kara!) is a cruel, cruel entity.
My kids love to dance. They have favourite songs, Hollaback Girl gets Phia’s booty shakin’, but anything with a half-assed dancy beat will get them up jumpin’, groovin’, stylin’, and profilin’. They particularly like to dance and act a fool when Daddy is up doing the same. It’s fun, it’s a work out, and always leads to great memories. That hopefully they’ll remember when they hit 12-13 and think Dad is an asshole.
October 2005 in general had been a below average month. But that is relative to the preceding months, I was away for the majority of it and though the tasking that I was involved in went perfect it was not without hardship, strife, and indigestion. As a result as well, Kara was home alone with the kids after just having me home for ten days. This brought out the worst in the kids; unsure as to when the stranger they knew as daddy was going to be home for good. To cap off October there were financial issues, social issues etc. etc that just added to a below average month. The crap out weighed the golden moments.
November 2005 therefore had oodles of potential. It started as well as it could if you consider the pace of work for myself, the kids had leveled off, and so had laundry requirements. Kara and I had the opportunity to spend some quality time and find our inner resolve again about money, friends, and family. The kind of inner peace only available when two people truly connect and are back on the same page.
After a week back to work to tidy up loose ends, send some troops on other taskings (that I was luckily able to avoid) I had a week home with the kids. Kara was going off to BC as part a contingent from the Military Family Resource Centre (MFRC, or FarCee to the munchkins). It started as a stressful occasion given the cost, but still a golden opportunity and chance of a lifetime for a small-town East coast girl. And it was Kara’s first real break from the kiddos, in, well- ever.
This was great opportunity for me, as Dad, as well to reconnect with my kids since I had been away a fair amount. And if you take out the fact that the kids would absolutely not sleep beyond 6:15 in the morning things were a dream.
Now as many know, this year in August Kara took up running, out of the blue. It lasted more than three or four days. In fact we are heading into month four. Unprecedented success for the self proclaimed couch potato royalty! Kara had been using events to act as training goals and motivating factors to keep her going during her “questionable motivation” times. But she also wanted a running CD, a compilation of songs and tracks that would get her ass a-boogeyin’ down the road. I had been saying “yup, I’ll get to it…” for a while. Well, being ultra husband balancing children in one hand and my nice-guyness in the other I sat down one evening and started tracking down songs from previous compilations and off the net.
Now I don’t watch a lot of TV, but one thing I like and have over a sports package on my digital cable is the music stations. I love all kinds of music and paid a little extra to get as many music videos as possible. One station is BPMTV, playing a ton of Electronica, House, Trance, Dance, and every possible variable thereof. One song really caught my attention: Traffic by DJ Tiesto. So I was a little selfish when I started searching and found as many DJ Tiesto songs I could. Despite my selfishness Kara’s CD filled quickly though for irony I stopped at 26 songs…
All this background led to the climax of our story.
It was Wednesday afternoon. Kara was about 36 hours from her return. Sophia had just woke up from her nap, Nathaniel had been watching me play online poker. While playing, Nathaniel had been grooving to DJ Tiesto in the background. Then a track I only know as Southern Sun a DJ Tiesto remix came on. It immediately caught Sophia’s interest, so I cranked up the volume turning or computer room in to a rave hall. I folded my hand of online poker and jumped up with the kids, it was an instant hit.
Nathaniel has taken to attempting “dance moves” involving jumping, spinning and occasionally punching himself in the face, and then saying “Daddy try this!” Well, dad starts trying to get the kids to try things, pretty soon the little room looks like an 80’s aerobics class, sort of Eric Pryde’s Call on Me…without the sex appeal. So we’re all doing knees lifts and lunges, and throwing our arms in the air. The jumping and air punching is reaching a frenetic pace, building with the music. Then Sophia stumbled.
I remember turning my body in the air, transfixed on not crushing Sophia and her bobbing ponytail. I never saw Nathaniel’s rising fist.
I heard a comedian describe it once as there is a bundle of nerves about as big around as a large fist connected to the testicles. And when struck, the pulse travels up the spinal cord and exploding like a tremendous Fourth of July fireworks display in the brain.
My feet never touched the ground; I used my back to break my fall.
Sophia and Nathaniel thought this was the next dance move and proceeded to jump up and land awkwardly on the floor. They found this move to be unfulfilling, and as the song ended they left the room and went to play Lego.
I lost about $500 in unplayed hands of online poker.
I hate DJ Tiesto.
But to get back to my point, this should of happened in October, that month sucked. But maybe it was karma getting back at me for downloading a whole bunch of running songs for Kara as a nice thing to do, on top of the laundry and cleaning.
Hmm, maybe it’s Kara’s fault.
Sincerely, with Ice Pack,
Scotty H.
This one is not so old, less than a year. More parental genuis.
Til next time.
Somehow I think Karma (not Kara!) is a cruel, cruel entity.
My kids love to dance. They have favourite songs, Hollaback Girl gets Phia’s booty shakin’, but anything with a half-assed dancy beat will get them up jumpin’, groovin’, stylin’, and profilin’. They particularly like to dance and act a fool when Daddy is up doing the same. It’s fun, it’s a work out, and always leads to great memories. That hopefully they’ll remember when they hit 12-13 and think Dad is an asshole.
October 2005 in general had been a below average month. But that is relative to the preceding months, I was away for the majority of it and though the tasking that I was involved in went perfect it was not without hardship, strife, and indigestion. As a result as well, Kara was home alone with the kids after just having me home for ten days. This brought out the worst in the kids; unsure as to when the stranger they knew as daddy was going to be home for good. To cap off October there were financial issues, social issues etc. etc that just added to a below average month. The crap out weighed the golden moments.
November 2005 therefore had oodles of potential. It started as well as it could if you consider the pace of work for myself, the kids had leveled off, and so had laundry requirements. Kara and I had the opportunity to spend some quality time and find our inner resolve again about money, friends, and family. The kind of inner peace only available when two people truly connect and are back on the same page.
After a week back to work to tidy up loose ends, send some troops on other taskings (that I was luckily able to avoid) I had a week home with the kids. Kara was going off to BC as part a contingent from the Military Family Resource Centre (MFRC, or FarCee to the munchkins). It started as a stressful occasion given the cost, but still a golden opportunity and chance of a lifetime for a small-town East coast girl. And it was Kara’s first real break from the kiddos, in, well- ever.
This was great opportunity for me, as Dad, as well to reconnect with my kids since I had been away a fair amount. And if you take out the fact that the kids would absolutely not sleep beyond 6:15 in the morning things were a dream.
Now as many know, this year in August Kara took up running, out of the blue. It lasted more than three or four days. In fact we are heading into month four. Unprecedented success for the self proclaimed couch potato royalty! Kara had been using events to act as training goals and motivating factors to keep her going during her “questionable motivation” times. But she also wanted a running CD, a compilation of songs and tracks that would get her ass a-boogeyin’ down the road. I had been saying “yup, I’ll get to it…” for a while. Well, being ultra husband balancing children in one hand and my nice-guyness in the other I sat down one evening and started tracking down songs from previous compilations and off the net.
Now I don’t watch a lot of TV, but one thing I like and have over a sports package on my digital cable is the music stations. I love all kinds of music and paid a little extra to get as many music videos as possible. One station is BPMTV, playing a ton of Electronica, House, Trance, Dance, and every possible variable thereof. One song really caught my attention: Traffic by DJ Tiesto. So I was a little selfish when I started searching and found as many DJ Tiesto songs I could. Despite my selfishness Kara’s CD filled quickly though for irony I stopped at 26 songs…
All this background led to the climax of our story.
It was Wednesday afternoon. Kara was about 36 hours from her return. Sophia had just woke up from her nap, Nathaniel had been watching me play online poker. While playing, Nathaniel had been grooving to DJ Tiesto in the background. Then a track I only know as Southern Sun a DJ Tiesto remix came on. It immediately caught Sophia’s interest, so I cranked up the volume turning or computer room in to a rave hall. I folded my hand of online poker and jumped up with the kids, it was an instant hit.
Nathaniel has taken to attempting “dance moves” involving jumping, spinning and occasionally punching himself in the face, and then saying “Daddy try this!” Well, dad starts trying to get the kids to try things, pretty soon the little room looks like an 80’s aerobics class, sort of Eric Pryde’s Call on Me…without the sex appeal. So we’re all doing knees lifts and lunges, and throwing our arms in the air. The jumping and air punching is reaching a frenetic pace, building with the music. Then Sophia stumbled.
I remember turning my body in the air, transfixed on not crushing Sophia and her bobbing ponytail. I never saw Nathaniel’s rising fist.
I heard a comedian describe it once as there is a bundle of nerves about as big around as a large fist connected to the testicles. And when struck, the pulse travels up the spinal cord and exploding like a tremendous Fourth of July fireworks display in the brain.
My feet never touched the ground; I used my back to break my fall.
Sophia and Nathaniel thought this was the next dance move and proceeded to jump up and land awkwardly on the floor. They found this move to be unfulfilling, and as the song ended they left the room and went to play Lego.
I lost about $500 in unplayed hands of online poker.
I hate DJ Tiesto.
But to get back to my point, this should of happened in October, that month sucked. But maybe it was karma getting back at me for downloading a whole bunch of running songs for Kara as a nice thing to do, on top of the laundry and cleaning.
Hmm, maybe it’s Kara’s fault.
Sincerely, with Ice Pack,
Scotty H.
Genetic Experiment Update
Dear Reader:
This is a piece that is close to two years old, to the best of my knowledge. and is just an insight into my parental genius...
Til next time.
PROJECT LANG: GENETIC PROGENY EXPERIMENT
UPDATE:
Thesis: Silence is Golden.
Report Originator: Lang Unit Male Parent (LUMP) 1.uh-oh (Father/Daddy/Scott)
As most know I, LUMP, recently took several months worth of parental leave. Now, even though I am a male and do possess a certain amount of the stereotypical deficiencies in the “gotta clue” department, I have developed a sixth sense towards my children and there are instances where instinct takes over and alarm bells sound.
Take for example a recent incident within the confines of the Lang Family Dwelling. Lang Unit Female Parent/Dictator (LUFPD) *I have been told to inform you that the opinions expressed with said document are not necessarily the opinion of the DICTATOR herself, and I may pay dearly for such ..........*-to continue, LUFPD was away at work on 280204, a Sunday, and LUMP, moi, was home as the sole target of the Genetic Experiments (BOY/GIRL). A fairly routine laboratory situation in recent months.
To set the stage, The Lion King, wuddya want me to do dress in drag and do the hula....? (Rhetorical I have already paid my debt to society for this and my records have been expunged) was on the television for approximately the 30th time that day. LUMP was checking the email, Genetic Experiment Girl (PHIA) was standing next to the couch ( yes a fantastic developmental achievement, for those of you not required to watch her pull the freshly laundered and folded clothes off said couch and onto the floor). Suddenly PHIA got the game face, a metaphor for her face turning purple as she pushes out a strained carrot surprise into her diaper. So in order to avoid the spreading of the biotoxic hazard LUMP quickly evaluated the situation and felt he was able to continue without outside intervention or a frantic call to the dictator. It was during this time of silence, absolute silence when two of the three inhabitants were accounted for that I realized it is quiet, too quiet.
So there we were PHIA happy and exuberant with a dry new waste catcher round her bottom and the Father Unit with his heart in his throat and an anvil in his upper colon wondering where in the name of Jesus his Genetic Experiment Boy (BUBBA) was. Thus, the mad dash was on. Up the stairs, in a flash, nope not in the bathroom remodelling with toilet paper and shampoo, (good). Not in any of the bedrooms remodelling with the dictators lipsticks or underwear drawer (good) yet not so good. BUBBA was not on the top floor of the dwelling. It is at this time that the shouting begins along with the frantic searching. So LUMP races down two flights of stairs into the basement for BUBBA has a fascination with mixing the felines cat litter with their food, the felines show adequate disgust at this transaction. (there are two feline- like inhabitants, DICTATOR has names for them, LUMP refers to them as orangey one with thigh peeling claws and the whitish brown one with the F%$# Off stare and sociopathic tendencies) But once in the basement there is nothing, except a mess so huge only the Liberals would be able to comprehend it. ( make no mistake this mess is a result of the organizational habits of the Parental Units). A quick thought flashes into my mind...I don’t think he can open the door to the outside world...
So I rush once again up the stairs, that is when an all too familiar scent assaults my nose, my pace slows as the anvil in my stomach drops further....as I reach the top of the stairs in the full grip of the panic consuming me as I know what it is I am going to find. I see one little foot sticking out of the pantry cupboard, it is a BUBBA foot. I pull the door open and there he is covered in brown. It is all over his pants, his shirt, his arms, the door, the shelf, and there is a plop of it on his forehead. And sitting between his legs is the open container of peanut butter...
AFTER ACTION REVIEW
BUBBA was counselled with a scolding, a bath, a peanut butter sandwich and a nap
PHIA was rewarded with a golden opportunity to pull the remainder of the clothes off the couch
FELINES where rewarded with a few stolen licks of peanut butter and a 2 hour stay in the basement for stolen licks of peanut butter.
LUMP was rewarded with an antacid, two rolls of paper towel, two hours refolding clothes, and a cat scratch.
Dictator was rewarded with a bloody nice relaxing day at work and a funny little parenting anecdote from husband.
This is a piece that is close to two years old, to the best of my knowledge. and is just an insight into my parental genius...
Til next time.
PROJECT LANG: GENETIC PROGENY EXPERIMENT
UPDATE:
Thesis: Silence is Golden.
Report Originator: Lang Unit Male Parent (LUMP) 1.uh-oh (Father/Daddy/Scott)
As most know I, LUMP, recently took several months worth of parental leave. Now, even though I am a male and do possess a certain amount of the stereotypical deficiencies in the “gotta clue” department, I have developed a sixth sense towards my children and there are instances where instinct takes over and alarm bells sound.
Take for example a recent incident within the confines of the Lang Family Dwelling. Lang Unit Female Parent/Dictator (LUFPD) *I have been told to inform you that the opinions expressed with said document are not necessarily the opinion of the DICTATOR herself, and I may pay dearly for such ..........*-to continue, LUFPD was away at work on 280204, a Sunday, and LUMP, moi, was home as the sole target of the Genetic Experiments (BOY/GIRL). A fairly routine laboratory situation in recent months.
To set the stage, The Lion King, wuddya want me to do dress in drag and do the hula....? (Rhetorical I have already paid my debt to society for this and my records have been expunged) was on the television for approximately the 30th time that day. LUMP was checking the email, Genetic Experiment Girl (PHIA) was standing next to the couch ( yes a fantastic developmental achievement, for those of you not required to watch her pull the freshly laundered and folded clothes off said couch and onto the floor). Suddenly PHIA got the game face, a metaphor for her face turning purple as she pushes out a strained carrot surprise into her diaper. So in order to avoid the spreading of the biotoxic hazard LUMP quickly evaluated the situation and felt he was able to continue without outside intervention or a frantic call to the dictator. It was during this time of silence, absolute silence when two of the three inhabitants were accounted for that I realized it is quiet, too quiet.
So there we were PHIA happy and exuberant with a dry new waste catcher round her bottom and the Father Unit with his heart in his throat and an anvil in his upper colon wondering where in the name of Jesus his Genetic Experiment Boy (BUBBA) was. Thus, the mad dash was on. Up the stairs, in a flash, nope not in the bathroom remodelling with toilet paper and shampoo, (good). Not in any of the bedrooms remodelling with the dictators lipsticks or underwear drawer (good) yet not so good. BUBBA was not on the top floor of the dwelling. It is at this time that the shouting begins along with the frantic searching. So LUMP races down two flights of stairs into the basement for BUBBA has a fascination with mixing the felines cat litter with their food, the felines show adequate disgust at this transaction. (there are two feline- like inhabitants, DICTATOR has names for them, LUMP refers to them as orangey one with thigh peeling claws and the whitish brown one with the F%$# Off stare and sociopathic tendencies) But once in the basement there is nothing, except a mess so huge only the Liberals would be able to comprehend it. ( make no mistake this mess is a result of the organizational habits of the Parental Units). A quick thought flashes into my mind...I don’t think he can open the door to the outside world...
So I rush once again up the stairs, that is when an all too familiar scent assaults my nose, my pace slows as the anvil in my stomach drops further....as I reach the top of the stairs in the full grip of the panic consuming me as I know what it is I am going to find. I see one little foot sticking out of the pantry cupboard, it is a BUBBA foot. I pull the door open and there he is covered in brown. It is all over his pants, his shirt, his arms, the door, the shelf, and there is a plop of it on his forehead. And sitting between his legs is the open container of peanut butter...
AFTER ACTION REVIEW
BUBBA was counselled with a scolding, a bath, a peanut butter sandwich and a nap
PHIA was rewarded with a golden opportunity to pull the remainder of the clothes off the couch
FELINES where rewarded with a few stolen licks of peanut butter and a 2 hour stay in the basement for stolen licks of peanut butter.
LUMP was rewarded with an antacid, two rolls of paper towel, two hours refolding clothes, and a cat scratch.
Dictator was rewarded with a bloody nice relaxing day at work and a funny little parenting anecdote from husband.
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