Interview

I interviewed a Berkeley MBA student the other day. Very bright, we're going to hire him, yadda yadda yadda. The important thing is that he introduced me to Dreyer's Slow Churned ice cream. Apparently he did an internship at Dreyer's over the summer and found out all about slow churned. He gave me the science behind the product. Once he said that you could taste more fat, I was in. The slow churning keeps the fat molecules separate from the rest of the mix, which means that instead of a bunch of very well mixed molecules, you're tasting big giant separate molecules. As an ice cream addict, I had to try it.

I'm now just about done with the first gallon of mint 'n chip. It is magnificent. Whatever Dreyer's has done, they done it right. Even though it has 1/2 the fat/calories, it's not watery and it tastes better than the regular full fat premium ice cream. Yes, this is good news.

On a separate note, I kicked Skyline Ridge's butt yesterday at 5:45am in a downpour. I came in 3rd out of 6 and I'm not sore today. I will become a trail runner yet.

The Dim Bulb

I am not sure what it is about me that says, "Hey, remember last week when you almost crapped your pants running due to the pain? That was fun. Let's do it again tomorrow."

Skyline Ridge

I agreed to meet a friend and his friends for a 10 mile trail run this past Saturday at 5:45am. What that meant is that I actually woke up at 4:45am in order to eat and then drive to the trailhead. To run. 10 miles. Up a mountain. Challenging my intellect at this point is acceptable.

We ended up going to Moraga (the Eastern side of the Oakland Hills). I could tell I was in trouble when A) I couldn't see the top of the hill from where we parked and B) Everyone had a headlamp but me. As we started running up the hill in the dark, I could tell I was in for a world of hurt. The first mile was worse than Diablo. These trail runners are seriously crazy. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. And everyone around me was laughing, having a great time, including a woman whose apparent job was to keep me from being last in line.

We finally summitted the ridge and from there it got worse. Up and down and up and down we went. Into the valley and then back up to the ridge and then into the valley again. Beautiful run, I think. Most of the time I felt like I was going explode from one end or the other, but I was never quite sure which one was going to pop first.

Seriously, the run was amazingly beautiful. Redwood groves everywhere and the feeling of being in Jurassic Park. What I've learned is that although I am a fast runner, I am not a strong runner. Time to change that.

Friends?

If you're not looking forward to this movie, then I'm not sure we can be friends any longer.

Two Weeks

"Has it really been two weeks since my last post? Inexcuseable and unacceptable. I don't have much to report on the running front. After a marathon, I typically only run about 20 miles a week for a month or two. Well, I'm on post-marathon week 3 and I'm right on track. I also haven't gained any weight which is surprising. Check that, it's not that surprising. I've been on the Diet Coke diet. I'm surprisingly full most of the time.

So I have a laundry list of items and zero time. I just didn't want you to think that I was ignoring you out of"

I wrote that two weeks ago. I don't remember why I was interrupted or what I was going to write, but because I don't want you guys to miss any of my very important thoughts, I'm including it in this very brief note.

Well, my seven weeks of Monday through Friday travel have come to an end. I now have at least two weeks at home before I am off to who knows where for who knows how long. Management consulting is definitely a business that keeps you on your toes. I won't talk anymore about work. Primarily because I don't want to get fired, but also because it is very dull. The most exciting part of my last engagement, which was in Pasadena, was my visit to Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. Before I hear the accusations and see the hurt looks, yes, I cheated on my gluten-free diet. How could I not? Fried chicken and waffles covered with syrup and gravy. It could not be passed up. What happened next was somewhat comical and something that a co-worker and I now refer to as The Roscoe's Coma.

After eating two huge waffles, 1/4 fried chicken (dark meat), covered in gravy and syrup, we headed back to the client site where we proceeded to do, I'm not sure what we proceeded to do other than sit in our office, groan, and fart. At least I was discrete. My co-worker didn't even try. He just let them rip. I had to leave a few times it was that bad. I could tell that it was tough for him to look me in the eye today. Roscoe's Coma or not, that's just wrong.

Pictureless Review

It seems very wrong to write about an experience at Lake Tahoe and to not have any pictures. We're talking about one of the most beautiful places on Earth and no pictures. Sorry, but with my location and schedule, it's not happening at the moment. For some pics, go here and here. Liz took some great shots.

So going into this marathon, I knew that I wanted to run with my sister Amy and my father. Running together with my family, particularly a marathon, has always seemed very right. My training reflected the type of race I was going to run. I only ran three days a week and didn't do any speedwork. However, the speed just doesn't sit on idle. It's there. If you've read some of my previous training runs and looked at my beautiful brown salt-encrusted eyes, you'll know that I trained hard and fast on my long runs. On a flat course, I still think I could have run a sub-3:10. On this course, probably a 3:25 or so. But that's not why I wanted to run the Lake Tahoe marathon. I was running it for the experience. What I found is that running a marathon for the experience and to run it with your family is probably a richer experience than running it for myself and for a PR.

We arrived in Tahoe on Thursday. We went two whole days early in order to get acclimated to the 6500 foot elevation. I later found out that it takes 6 weeks to become properly acclimated.

I'm not going to bore you with the non-marathon activities. Yes, we stayed in a casino. Yes, we went to a buffet. Yes, we took the paddlewheeler to Emerald Bay and it was amazing. Yes, we had sushi the night before as required by Mike F.'s marathon laws. Liz can tell you all about our adventures with Zane in restaurants. He just wasn't having it. Let's go straight to the race.

Wait, I will tell you about our Friday drive of the race course. I knew the west side of Tahoe was pretty hilly and I had seen the elevation profile. I've been to Tahoe a number of times in the winter and have driven that road in order to get to Squaw Valley. What I had not done is actually drive the road and consider what it would be like to run it. Maybe driving the course in advance was a mistake. The last 13 miles are painful. Up and down and up and up and up and up and up and up and then down and then up and up and up some more, followed by the downhill to the finish. What made me the most nervous was where the up was located. Between miles 15 and 21 is not where you want to see massive uphill. It was like Boston, but steeper, longer, and at 6500 feet.

So back to Saturday morning. My dad, Amy, and I, along with Liz, Zane, Kevin, and my mom all boarded the buses. The marathon had a spectactor pass that you could purchase that allowed you to take the buses to the starting line and then take to three points along the course, as well as the finish line, to support your runners. It was pretty cool and very helpful. More on this later. We arrived at the starting line about 30 minutes before the race started. Only about 400 runners. Amy, my dad, and myself get ready and then bam, we're off. Only 26.2 miles to go.

The first 10 miles are amazing. Right on the shore as the sun is rising. People were stopping and taking pictures. When the event organizers tell you that it is the most beautiful marathon in the world, they are not joking. We see the family at mile 1.5, mile 4, and mile 7.5. It was great to see them. High fives to Liz. Waving to Zane. Hearing my mom encourage my dad. Everyone is having a great time. I'm acting as the mule and carrying everyone's gels and making sure we're on pace (not too fast, not too slow). Our goal is to run a sub 5 hour marathon. My dad ran it last year in 5:05.

It was tough at first being a pacer. My body just wanted to scream and run and go, go, go, go, go. That tapered up rested feeling had me ready to just hammer down. I held it back. Our first six miles or so were right around a 10 minute pace. Probably a little fast, but after seeing that road yesterday, I wanted to book a little time, as I knew that some of those miles would be in the 13 and 14 minute range. We just ran, talked, joked, and enjoyed it.

At about mile 9, I had an issue. I needed to use the facilities. Fortunately for me, I saw one of two port-a-johns about a 1/4 mile ahead. I told my dad and Amy that I was going to use it and for them to just keep going. I sprinted out ahead, which felt very, very good, did my deed and then sprinted until I caught up to them again. I was surprised at how far ahead of me they were. It took me a little bit to catch them. Once I caught them, we started to space out a little bit. I could tell that Amy was a little winded and that my dad was raring to go. I gave my dad three gels and told him to go and that I'd stay back with Amy. He went. Up a short, but steep hill, then down, them bam, there was the mother of all hills. Two miles long with an average incline of 8%, with some sections being even worse.

It was brutal. This was around mile 15 and we were in the thick of the 1/2 marathoners. I didn't see a single person running up the hill. Everyone walked, except my dad, who we could still see, and me and Amy. We went slow, but we ran. Amy then told me that she could see that our dad had started to walk. I told her that I'd be right back and to not stop running. I ran up to my dad who was about 200 yards ahead of us, gave him a pat on the back, told him he was doing great, to keep running, and to let his arms do his work. You pump your arms and your legs can't help but follow. He was running again at this point and I told him I was going back down to Amy. On my way down, people looked at my like I was nuts, which I was. Once I got back to Amy, I told her to keep her head down and to just focus on my feet and to keep her arms pumping. We kept running. But like I said, this was a 2 mile hill. It was massive. I saw my dad begin walking again. I knew we were near the top, so I charged back up the hill and repeated what I had done before. I ran with him until I could tell we were near the top. We could also hear the spectators from the spectator bus. I told him that this was it, then it was some sweet downhill and to just take off. That was the last time I saw him until the finish line.

Back to Amy. This is the second time that these people had seen me go up and down. It was actually pretty funny. I heard a few "God bless you"s. I told Amy to not waste any energy talking and that we were almost to the top. A couple of minutes later, we crested the hill and there was my mom with water to dump on us and Liz, Zane, and Kevin. It was good to see them. The hardest part was over. Liz was screaming. It was great. Just 9 miles left.

Going down into Emerald Bay is something I'll never forget. We had just killed ourselves getting to the top and to then be going down with that view was incredible. Amy and I talked quite a bit. We couldn't believe how well our 58 year old father was doing. We totally knew he was going to smoke his goal time of 5 hours. We knew this because although we had a view of at least 2 miles of road, he was nowhere to be found. We knew there was one very steep hill left, but it seemed like the worst was behind us.

Technically correct, but I had forgotten about those last few miles. As we chugged up the road that led out of Emerald Bay, we kept running. Once we came to the top at mile 20, we both were feeling good and sped up a little. The most scenic and tough parts of the course were over and we thought we had this race in the bag. We were slightly wrong. At about mile 22, that wall. That soreness. That fatigue began to set in. Amy had only decided to do the marathon about 4 weeks ago and although she is an avid runner, it's hard to fake the last miles of a marathon without the mileage under your feet. Me, I'd never run for this long before. I'm a 3 hour guy. My dogs were barking and I just wanted to get off of them. To make matters worse, we were diverted off of the main road onto the bike trail that somewhat follows the road. Except that it has a lot of little turns that bug the crap out of you when all you want to do is go straight.

We slowed down and kept going. Amy never stopped to walk. 1 mile left and we're sharing the path with tons of people. 1/2 marathoners, bikers, people out for a walk. Then we hit 26 miles. .2 to go and we can see the finish line. Nobody is talking. We just want to get done. We saw my mom. We saw my dad. We finished. 5:00:45 for Amy and 5:00:49 for me. Then, we went to the beach and just relaxed. What a great run. I think I've found my calling. Now to find a way to make it profitable.

Oh and my dad. 4:44. Amazing.

For LisaPow

Tapering. Something that I am enjoying right now, probably a little too much. My advice for the taper and marathon in no particular order:

- Enjoy it.
- Don't stress about not running as much. The body needs time to heal.
- Cut back on your calories only slightly. Don't worry about a little extra weight gain.
- Cut your toenails a week before.
- The night that is two nights before your marathon is the most important, as there is no way you're sleeping the night before. Get a solid 8 or 9 hours in.
- Nothing out of the ordinary in your diet the week before the race.
- Nothing spicy for the two days prior to your race.
- Carbo-load, but don't overdo it.
- Don't forget your band-aids and vaseline/bodyglide in order to prevent chaffing.
- Eat breakfast in the morning. I usually eat a banana, drink a gatorade, and have a bowl of cereal about two hours before.
- Use the port-a-johns at least twice. You don't want to have to stop.
- Sign up for a pace group. If you can't keep up with that pace group, don't sweat it and when the next pace group catches up to you, stick with them.
- Wear shoes that have only about 50 miles on them, but make sure they are the same make/model that you have trained in.
- If you plan on wearing any cold weather gear during the marathon, make sure it's something that you don't care about, as you will be tossing it on the side of the road at about mile 4.
- Rotate water and gatorade at each aid station. Don't overdo it.
- Take a gel every hour. I recommend the ones with caffeine, but if you haven't used ones with caffeine before, don't try them for the first time the day of your race.
- If you're tight, stop and stretch.
- If you're in pain, walk for a minute, then try to pick it back up.
- Write your name on your bib or your arms or better yet, have it stitched on your shirt. When you're at mile 22 and people are screaming your name, it means everything.
- Let the people at the end of the race ice you down. A lot.
- Eat plenty of ice cream at the end, then go to Tony Romas for all you can eat ribs.

Humbled And Delusionaled

If you look closely at this photo, you can see the salt that my body purges while I'm out on a long run. Last Saturday's salt levels weren't particularly bad, as it wasn't very hot, but it was the first time I remembered to take a picture of it. I'm surprised that small woodland animals aren't running up to me for a lick.

Last Saturday was my last big long run before Tahoe. 22 miles. I'm happy to say that I will not be running another such run for at least 9 months. Remember, I'm on the one marathon a year program. During my long runs, I need something to keep my mind off the fact that I'll be running 22 miles. I've developed a real passion for running people down and not being passed. Prideful, yes. Distracting and fun, yes, yes.

I was moving along pretty well, picking people off one by one or in one case a huge group of people and then off in the distance I saw him, a runner about a half mile ahead of me. I was determined to get him. I slowly started to reel him in. Surprisingly, it took longer than expected. It was probably about four miles before I caught him. As I caught up to him, I could tell that this guy was a serious runner and also a little bit older than me. We were also both running sub-7 miles. As I drew abreast, he started talking to me. He asked how far I was going. I puffed out my chest and said, 22 miles. He laughed and told me to ask him how far he was going. I asked and he said 22 miles. It turned out we're both running marathons in three weeks. He then told me that he was shooting for a 2:55 marathon and that it would be sweet if he could do it because he was turning 51 on Monday and to PR right after turning 51 would be special.

I hope he didn't see my jaw drop. Wow. Amazing. I told him he was the man and then we chit chatted for another couple of minutes before we hit his turnaround point. I hope I'm still running strong at 51. If genetics have anything to do with it and they always do so I'm not too worried about it, then I'm sure I will be.

Now I told you that I like running people down and I don't like getting passed. Well, I don't remember the last time I was passed. It's probably because I treat every training run like a race, but what can you do. To run fast, you've gotta run fast. Well, at about mile 18, I heard footsteps behind me. My heart began to beat a little faster. No way is some chump that is out for a 3 mile run going to pass me at mile 18. I'm not a mark. I'm the marker. So I slowly sped up. I couldn't shake the guy. Finally after about a mile, I'm resigned to getting passed. It's going to happen. But the person won't pass me. At this point, I'm beginning to get annoyed. Just pass me already dammit. I refused to look back as I didn't want to see this person's smiling face as he toyed with me.

About a minute later, I realized that there was no one behind me. What I took for footsteps was in fact the sloshing of my two water bottles. My delusional already having run 19 miles mind was playing tricks on me. I was glad that no one was around, as I'm sure I turned an even brighter shade of red.

To infinity and beyond!

Coming Down The Mountain

I realize that I am somewhat obsessed with this mountain. I won't promise never to talk about Mt. Diablo again, but I'll try to incorporate other mountains such as this one into my endurance athletic feats, but for now, Mt. Diablo it is. At least this isn't about running. It's about cycling, something I only do once or twice a week.

My office is full of endurance athletes. Just about everyone has run multiple marathons and about half the office has done a triathlon, with one guy having just completed an Ironman. I'm not even the fastest guy in the office. Maybe second on a good day. And everyone rides. One of my peers lives in Danville, the next town over and once a week rides up Diablo from the south side. We decided to ride it together once a week. Yesterday was the first day.

I rode around Diablo to Danville, which is about a 10 mile ride, and then we took off. A shortcut through the Danville Country Club and we were on Mt. Diablo Scenic Boulevard. The south side is much different than the north side. It's more wooded, longer, and has some flat recovery stretches, which are key. On the way up, I'm gasping for breath and laughing at the same time. The guy I'm riding with used to be a professional mountain biker and knows his stuff. He likes to play the "Let's go 70%, let people pass us and get about 20 bike lengths on us, then hammer down and go after them" game. He especially enjoyed doing this when someone on a $5000 bike named after a very famous cyclist who he'd actually met passed us. Comments such as, "They better back that up." and "His jersey matches his rims, which match his bike?? He better back that up." were heard several times. Like I said, it was an amusing ride.

What wasn't as amusing, but was very surprising was the number of tarantulas crossing the road. I guess it's mating season. I saw two going up and probably another two going down. Almost nailed one, which would have been a mess as the things are huge.

Anyway, we got to the top, took a quick break, looked at the sun, and estimated that I had another 20 minutes of daylight. Time to bomb down the mountain. This is where it was almost spiritual. The picture above, while not taken by me, was what I saw. Mist covering the valley and the sun going down to my left. I laughed out loud at the beauty of it, which probably startled the two guys on a tandem that I passed going 40mph, but what can you do, my bike goes fast. I'm a little tired today, but not sore. It's definitely a ride that I'm going to do at least weekly.

Mt. Diablo Trail Run

A guy at church I've spoken with a couple of times asked me if I wanted to go running with him Labor Day morning. He was very humble about his running ability and concerned that I wouldn't want to run 'slow'. I told him not to worry about it and that I enjoyed running with people of all abilities, as it's nice to have company. He then asked if I wanted to go on a trail run. Built up at this point thinking that I am a running god, I said sure and we agreed on a time and place. I told Liz that I would be going for a nice easy run, probably 3 or 4 miles. Yes, I was wrong.

We met up at 8am this morning and proceeded straight up a mountain. Mt. Diablo to be exact. In a little over 3 miles, we gained about 600 feet in elevation. Brutal. At the top of the first climb, he asked what my heart rate was. Fortunately, I hadn't brought my heart rate monitor, as I would have likely had to tell him that I was approaching 200. Nothing like going anaerobic first thing in the morning. Of course his was 173. Oh, did I forget to tell you that this guy is 12 years older than I am?

It was actually a very nice run, once I learned how to breathe fire. We're going to do this run weekly. 7.5 miles of burning quads. Actually, the last mile or so is pretty flat. That's where I showed him how it's done. You know, running on flat asphalt. It's so tough.

Moons Over My Hammy Re-Redux

It's not a serious injury, but my right hamstring is very tender this morning. My Zaneless run last night was not that fast. Fast enough to not be comfortable, but not fast enough to sweat. Oh, you didn't know that I have a sweating problem? Yes, I simply don't sweat that much. This probably explains my complete bonking in any run/race that is held in temperatures over sixty degrees. My hair looks good the whole way though, so it's a trade-off.

Anyways, my right hamstring is sore. We'll see how it goes tonight on my bike. And Mo, just come out and visit and I'll push you by the creek. The only requirement is that you provide conversation based upon sentences made up of at the most two words. For example, "Daddy, duck."; "Daddy, truck"; "Daddy, horsie." And my favorite, "Daddy fast." I might let go of you when we go down the hill though.

New Training Regimen

I've discovered the secret to running long and fast. It involves pushing a jogging stroller with a 35 pound 2 year old twice a week over a very hilly 8 mile loop. I know, that's crazy. You'd think it'd never work. Pushing 50 pounds over hills is just supposed to make you tired, not strong. Well, it turns out it makes you strong too. I suspected as much last week when I was pushing Zane over the hills and when I finished up and looked at my watch, I found that I had completed the run averaging just over 8 minute miles. So I decided to put my strength to the test on Saturday by going long and fast.

Twenty miles. I wasn't excited to go out and do this run. Especially considering I had a timetable and needed to get back in order to get ready to go to the IRL Grand Prix of Sonoma, which was pretty cool by the way. Zane loved Turn 7. I would have bought him one of those little collectible Indy cars, but they were $500 and that's just a little much for a car that doesn't even have an engine.

Well, even though I didn't want to get out there, I still had to go and do it. I have a marathon in five weeks and skipping a long at this point just isn't acceptable. I started out conservative, running an 8:30 first mile and then slowly built up my speed. At the end of mile 10, I was averaging just at 8 minutes per mile. That's when I decided to turn on the afterburners and see what I could do. Surprisingly, the afterburners just kept on going. For the remaining 10 miles I averaged 7:20 miles. For miles 11, 12, and 13, I was running sub-7s. I backed off of that, but it sure felt good. I was only nervous about my last mile, which is a mile long hill. I usually run that last mile at about 9:45, due to the hill and it being the last mile of a 20 mile run. Not that day. I charged up it and finished it in 7:45.

When I completed that last mile, I felt like a lion. I felt fast again and wanted to roar, which I have done on occasion. The adrenaline and endorphins just get to me sometimes. At the end of the day, I ran 20 miles in 2:33 (11 minutes faster than last week), which is probably the third fastest 20 miles I've ever done. The fastest being the Flying Pig Marathon where I did a ridiculous 2:22 and the second fastest being a training run prior to the Pig when I ran a 2:29.

This experience tells me one thing. I haven't lost my speed. A sub-3 hour marathon is still attainable. This Saturday I have another 20 miler. I'm not promising to break 2:30, but if I'm feeling it, I'm going to go for it.

So thank you Zane. What I thought was just going to be nice father-son time running along the creek pointing at ducks, doggies, and horses has now turned into a serious strength training workout. Now if I could only avoid those thorns that keep puncturing the tires on your jogging stroller (three punctures in two weeks).

Fear

I ran my first 20 miler since April two days ago. Surprisingly, I was only a little sore, especially considering that I hadn't run long in three weeks due to the Arizona trip. I started out pretty conservatively running the first 10 miles around 8:20 pace. It always takes me about 6 miles to start feeling comfortable. Additionally, the out leg is uphill and on Saturday there was a headwind. The back leg I sped up and was running 7:20s, at least until the mile long hill that was mile 20.

I know, I know. It was just two years ago I ran a full marathon at 7:11 pace. I guess that's what running three days a week and trying to have a family life can do to your speed. I WILL hit a sub-3 hour marathon. Likely target is St. George 2007. But that will be the second most important race of 2007, as I will only be racing against myself. The most important race will be the St. George triathlon. Mav and JP must die.

Here are my target splits:

1500m swim - 25 minutes
40km bike - 22mph
10km run - 39 minutes

Let that last number sink in a little. Let me also say that although I think my first two numbers are realistic/slightly aggressive, my last number is most definitely conservative. How does it taste? The fear that is.

Rebel Yell

No, not Billy Idol, although if he lived in Walnut Creek, I would be pretty excited. Would I ask Billy to sing Rebel Yell or White Wedding?

Hey, little sister, what have you done
Hey, little sister, who's the only one...

I don't like quoting lyrics, as wasting space with unoriginal text seems wasteful. You know, because the internet might fill up. However, in this case, with me dancing around the office playing air guitar, and I play a pretty good air guitar, almost as good as Mo's, I will make an exception and quote Billy.

Wow, that is some terrible English.

Where was I? Oh, yes, the non-Billy Idol rebel yell. So I am pulling into the Walnut Creek BART station yesterday and I glance down (BART is on an elevated track) and I see a flagpole. Flying on this flagpole are two flags, the first one being the U.S. flag. The second one wasn't the California state flag. It was the Confederate battle flag. In Walnut Creek.

Disappointment

How could I not have seen it? When it was later pointed out to me, I wondered how I could have been so blind. Was I in a rush? Was my cart so full that I just needed to escape? Did the buy one, get one free offer overwhelm my ability to read? Was I dreaming of a Diet Dr. Pepper that I later forgot to buy? Or was it simply my lack of attention to detail? Whatever the answer, it was a tragedy. I inadvertently bought light ice cream. Light Mint 'n Chip to be exact. Now light ice cream is usually better than no ice cream and this particular batch was no exception, but non-light, full of delicious fat, ice cream is so much better. There are two main differences. First, it's obviously not as rich. Two, and this is the part that really drives me mad, it's melting point is much lower than normal ice cream. And once it melts, it's incredibly watery. Now it was a good snack. Don't get me wrong. It just wasn't as good as it should have been and it was all due to my inability to notice the word "light", which happened to be printed on the lid 50 times. Fortunately, I had two root beer floats, which contained normal vanilla ice cream, later in the day to help me out of my light ice cream funk.

Suki Desu Ka?

Hai, suki desu. Any job that sets aside an entire Friday afternoon in order for the office to have its fantasy football draft is pretty good in my book.

Whatchagonnado When They Come For You?

That's right. The DPD was out in force Wednesday night and just like Maurice Clarett, this Bad Boy got pulled over after a serious highway chase. Ok, maybe it didn't quite happen that way. Maybe I was riding my bike instead of driving a SUV. Maybe I blew through two red lights (the coast was clear, I promise) instead of weaving erratically. And maybe it was a water bottle in my hands, not four guns, including an assault rifle. Ok, maybe it wasn't like Maurice Clarett at all, but I had to bring him in somehow. Talk about snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. One minute you're scoring the winning touchdown at the Fiesta Bowl, a sure fire NFL running back and the next you're going to prison for 30 years. Ouch.

So yes, I was pulled over by the Danville Police Department, in all of my spandex glory. Apparently, running a red light on a bike is a no no, even if the coast is clear a la NY style. Fortunately, he just gave me a warning as a ticket received while riding a bicycle counts the same as a ticket you receive from driving a car. That wouldn't have looked pretty on my insurance.

Chimera?

Contrary to popular belief, the puma is not a mythological creature. It did not try to turn Theseus into stone, it did not spring from the head of Zeus, and it most certainly did not strap on wings, fly too close to the sun, watch its wings melt and do a nosedive into the Aegean.

Congratulations Beka, I hope you're having fun.

Pressure Cooker

Can you feel it? The pressure to post is insufferable. All week long people have been emailing me and telling me that I must post. I'm not sure why as this has turned into one of the more dull blogs in the blogosphere. Ever since I moved from NY to the Bay area, my life has literally become more and more dull and it's been reflected in my posts. My latest hit entry is about a foam roller?? This is a problem.

I'm not one of those who didn't know what he had when he had it. I loved NY. Every minute. Even the nut jobs on the subway. I'm glad I'm not there right at this moment, as sitting next to a window unit A/C hoping to cool off to a pleasant 93 degrees sounds pretty terrible and being in the subway gives me nightmares thinking about it. The smell must be truly awful. Who knows what is cooking down there. However, overall, the flair that NY has is missing. Maybe we should move to the city? Maybe we should just accept the fact that we're suburbanites now. But I can't do that. It'd be like denying my inner Comic Book Guy. And that my friends is something I am not prepared to do.



I hope that this post releashes those who have been hounding me. Seriously people, this stuff just isn't that good.

A Blind Man

Does it strike anyone else as odd that a blind man would get onto BART, call 911 and report a suspicious package at the previous BART station?