I had two cinematic surprises this week that surprised me. Yes, sometimes I watch movies at the theater. So last week we went and watched The Hobbit. And I'm relishing it. Boom. Awesome. Loving it. (*Spoiler alert, be ye hereby warned.) And then the dragon opens its eye.
As if to see my face when the credits rolled. Totally thought it was The Hobbit, period. Didn't realize it was going to be The Hobbit blah la ha la la, then later The Hobbit ha fa la tra da, then finally when my second child is born, The Hobbit frododododo. I guess I should've realized something wasn't right when hour two rolled around and the little dwarves weren't even close to wrapping up their part of the story. And did I ever watched a preview (yes)? Did I ever look anything up about the movie (honestly don't remember, actually)? Well, it should've been obvious.
And then tonight we go in for our annual Les Miserables viewing and I'm excited. Kind of. Not as excited as I was when Wolverine came out, but Huge Jackman was in this one too, and he's my hairy-chested hero of the moving picture, so I thought it might work out all right.
*Another spoiler alert, sort of. The opening scene unfolds and I'm thinking it's pretty rad, right? Burly sailors (okay, they turned out to be slaves), Huge looks fantastic in his Zeus beard and self-shorn locks (like mine!), and I'm always impressed by impressive manpower and teamwork, and they were certainly displaying impressive manpower. Oh, and then he fetched the flag (i.e., tree). Wolverine fo 'eva. Anyway, and then it keeps going and they haven't stopped singing. I'm beginning to worry. I expressed some concern to the sister, but not very heartily. And then a couple minutes later I had to concede: the singing was there to stay. Wow. Totally didn't realize that it was a musical. I know, idiot. My sister already had her laughs. I guess I didn't go into that one well-prepared either. And I'm quite sure I watched a preview for it, too. Needless to say it wasn't quite as enjoyable from then on, seeing as I didn't think I was at that kind of theater. But it was still a quality production, in my opinion, and certainly a story worth being reminded of.
So there you have it. My two cinematic surprises of the week. Happy New Year's Eve to all, and to all a good night.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
I'll be back
This almost seems like it's just my running blog now, and that I hardly run if it is...
But for my grandkids:
I ran 27 miles yesterday morning. Strava.com set up a challenge for its users, that for whoever finished a marathon in the past week they'd donate $10 to the NYC Sandy victims. So, I did. I've been building up mileage some so it wasn't like I haven't been running, and it was a good excuse to try.
The morning was excruciatingly beautiful. I was giddy as I passed evergreens lightly sprinkled with snow glistening for a few moments while the clouds left passage for some rays of sun now and then. And the fields were all contrasty with their overturned soil and little plops of snow on top. And then I ran past a nature preserve and saw a fox prancing in little hops down the road. I held up my fist like they did in The Fantastic Mr. Fox. Or maybe that was to the humongous owl I passed twice, with grizzled old feathers. Or to the huge bull with its muzzle neck-deep in a huge bowl of hay. Or to the little sparrow (?) on the wire that flew and landed and flew and landed with me for several dozen meters down the road. I honestly can't remember, but saluting the fox sounds best, I suppose.
It is a quiet country on the road to Cheney. After passing the wide open spaces of the fields and the nature preserve one enters the cloistered windings of beautiful road, sidelined by young, stately pines (?) and some of their squat Christmas tree cousins. Fences are frequent, both barbed wire and slat, and now and then a little home winks out at you from in the trees. There are mysterious dirt roads branching out from the main one, which I hope to someday explore. I left my mark on the one at my halfway point, if you know what I mean. There was a white dog with huge black splotches traipsing through the forest a hundred meters away and I was hoping he noticed. I'll be back.
I posted a picture to Instagram while slowing to a walk once I started up again. I figure I have so many pictures taken while running, I may as well take the chance to actually post one while running. Turns out it was blurry, but I couldn't tell while on the go. Probably won't do that again. Very often.
Sometimes I get emotional while I run. I think it's a conglomerate of beautiful experiences. The initial energy I have makes everything more easily visible and exciting. There are smaller anecdotes within the larger whole, like the coyote and the bull. There is the role of the sun, and the way he plays his lights and shadows for me. It is the feeling of stretching my legs on the downhills and the little dances I make around puddles or rocks that leave me feeling nimble, maybe sometimes graceful. On short runs it is the heave of my lungs and pounding of blood in my ears as I redline. And on the longer, it is the knowledge that there will be pain and discomfort, the agony of suffering through it in the present, and the satisfaction of gingerly folding yourself onto your side in the fetal position knowing it is all over when you get home. You did it.
And so, that was yesterday's experience, and it was beautiful. I'm such a Puddleglum that I sometimes wonder when I'll get hit by a car, or injure myself, or get cancer such that I won't be able to run again. I wonder similar things about my fingers and violin playing, or about my ears and hearing voices and music. And it's at those moments when I quickly revert my thoughts to the "genie" that I sometimes make God and quickly shoot up a Thank You for my healthy legs. I try to shoot it up fast enough so that it knocks the other thoughts out of the air in time to keep them from jinxing me, like Robin Hood the Fox when he quickly flicks up a second arrow to re-aim the misfired first arrow back down for an arrow-splitting bullseye.
It's not every day that I love running. There are many in which I merely glance out at the darkening world or the wet world or the cold world and decide I'd rather maintain my poor sitting posture on the comfort of my bed. But other times I get out without thinking of it much and run 27 miles. And those are the days I will remember, and the days that will make me proud.
So, Grandkids, maybe you'll love to run someday. But not until you're older because I don't want you to stunt your growth. But either way is fine, because I love to run.
But for my grandkids:
I ran 27 miles yesterday morning. Strava.com set up a challenge for its users, that for whoever finished a marathon in the past week they'd donate $10 to the NYC Sandy victims. So, I did. I've been building up mileage some so it wasn't like I haven't been running, and it was a good excuse to try.
The morning was excruciatingly beautiful. I was giddy as I passed evergreens lightly sprinkled with snow glistening for a few moments while the clouds left passage for some rays of sun now and then. And the fields were all contrasty with their overturned soil and little plops of snow on top. And then I ran past a nature preserve and saw a fox prancing in little hops down the road. I held up my fist like they did in The Fantastic Mr. Fox. Or maybe that was to the humongous owl I passed twice, with grizzled old feathers. Or to the huge bull with its muzzle neck-deep in a huge bowl of hay. Or to the little sparrow (?) on the wire that flew and landed and flew and landed with me for several dozen meters down the road. I honestly can't remember, but saluting the fox sounds best, I suppose.
It is a quiet country on the road to Cheney. After passing the wide open spaces of the fields and the nature preserve one enters the cloistered windings of beautiful road, sidelined by young, stately pines (?) and some of their squat Christmas tree cousins. Fences are frequent, both barbed wire and slat, and now and then a little home winks out at you from in the trees. There are mysterious dirt roads branching out from the main one, which I hope to someday explore. I left my mark on the one at my halfway point, if you know what I mean. There was a white dog with huge black splotches traipsing through the forest a hundred meters away and I was hoping he noticed. I'll be back.
I posted a picture to Instagram while slowing to a walk once I started up again. I figure I have so many pictures taken while running, I may as well take the chance to actually post one while running. Turns out it was blurry, but I couldn't tell while on the go. Probably won't do that again. Very often.
Sometimes I get emotional while I run. I think it's a conglomerate of beautiful experiences. The initial energy I have makes everything more easily visible and exciting. There are smaller anecdotes within the larger whole, like the coyote and the bull. There is the role of the sun, and the way he plays his lights and shadows for me. It is the feeling of stretching my legs on the downhills and the little dances I make around puddles or rocks that leave me feeling nimble, maybe sometimes graceful. On short runs it is the heave of my lungs and pounding of blood in my ears as I redline. And on the longer, it is the knowledge that there will be pain and discomfort, the agony of suffering through it in the present, and the satisfaction of gingerly folding yourself onto your side in the fetal position knowing it is all over when you get home. You did it.
And so, that was yesterday's experience, and it was beautiful. I'm such a Puddleglum that I sometimes wonder when I'll get hit by a car, or injure myself, or get cancer such that I won't be able to run again. I wonder similar things about my fingers and violin playing, or about my ears and hearing voices and music. And it's at those moments when I quickly revert my thoughts to the "genie" that I sometimes make God and quickly shoot up a Thank You for my healthy legs. I try to shoot it up fast enough so that it knocks the other thoughts out of the air in time to keep them from jinxing me, like Robin Hood the Fox when he quickly flicks up a second arrow to re-aim the misfired first arrow back down for an arrow-splitting bullseye.
It's not every day that I love running. There are many in which I merely glance out at the darkening world or the wet world or the cold world and decide I'd rather maintain my poor sitting posture on the comfort of my bed. But other times I get out without thinking of it much and run 27 miles. And those are the days I will remember, and the days that will make me proud.
So, Grandkids, maybe you'll love to run someday. But not until you're older because I don't want you to stunt your growth. But either way is fine, because I love to run.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Scared Unto Spaghetti
I sense more frequent glimpses these days into what it's like to think, talk, and act like an adult. Minor things, like conversations, or interactions with staff members or students, but things that are probably generally good for me. Of course, there is the flip side, which is the recurring feeling of being far behind my peers in maturity, experience, and ambition. Staying busy with unproductive things usually helps dissuade me from such thoughts. Thank goodness for that loophole.
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| Editing photos has been a recent distraction. |
The other day we went to Camp Mivoden for the school's fall picnic and I ran on some trails behind their property. I think a couple sections were the steepest trails I've ever run on. Running up those sections was sluggish, as far as overall speed is concerned, but I can't say the same for my heart rate or breathing. And going down was one of the most acutely terrifying things I've done in recent memory. I got to a point—before I realized what was happening—where I couldn't stop myself because of the dusty slipperiness of the descent without risking harm . And if I had fallen, well, there were lots of sharp rocks for my forearms and ribs to enjoy during several dozen feet of bounce-rolling-falling my body would have thanked me for. More! More! it would have said. No. No, we will not do that again, I would have whimpered on my long limp home.
And that's the extent of my life's adventures. And no one was around to verify the level of "terror" actually induced by that terrain. It probably would look like stairs to some people.
Here's a screenshot of our race route and elevation profile:
I took two young gentlemen to the hospital last night to get stitches. (One of my responsibilities is being one of the drivers on certain days.) They bumped heads during a flag football game last night. Drills, actually, they said. There was a lady there who looked like a corpse. No joke. I stared at her for a couple seconds wondering if it was some weird mannequin for training. She was pale as... death, and her eyes were closed and her mouth was just slightly open. Basically like the CPR dummies, except slightly less plastic looking and much older. Yikes. Poor lady. She was alive. I don't want to work in hospitals anymore. Or do I?
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
I'm Off Tomorrow
So it's been a while.
Being boys director at Wawona was quite enjoyable. I'd say the kids were pretty good and the team of counselors we had was a delight. It was neat to be even older than last time I was older, and to not know many of the staff except Anthony, my brother, and a few others. I got my phone wet during staff week and just got it back a couple weeks ago after finally getting it fixed. That was nice, too, in some ways.
And now I'm at Upper Columbia Academy as a taskforce boys dean. So far we've only had two official schooldays, and so far I've not fallen in love with the job. But it hasn't been atrocious, either. I'm suspending judgment, as they say.
This afternoon I had some free time and came across a 10-minute video on the 2012 Norseman Xtreme Triathlon. An absolute gem. I'm not exactly sure what the afternoon concoction was that incited it, but I actually got emotional watching it. Who does that? So then later, I included it in my worship talk. Like a champion.
The tagline was someone's comment underneath the video on the page I watched it from: "This says so much by saying so little." Good job, random commenter. And thank you. We should live lives of such persevering quality in all we do that people can't help but hear the timbre of our lives and find it worthy. I just made that up. But that was the idea.
This post dedicated to my good friend Benjamin Lee Schnell.
Being boys director at Wawona was quite enjoyable. I'd say the kids were pretty good and the team of counselors we had was a delight. It was neat to be even older than last time I was older, and to not know many of the staff except Anthony, my brother, and a few others. I got my phone wet during staff week and just got it back a couple weeks ago after finally getting it fixed. That was nice, too, in some ways.
And now I'm at Upper Columbia Academy as a taskforce boys dean. So far we've only had two official schooldays, and so far I've not fallen in love with the job. But it hasn't been atrocious, either. I'm suspending judgment, as they say.
This afternoon I had some free time and came across a 10-minute video on the 2012 Norseman Xtreme Triathlon. An absolute gem. I'm not exactly sure what the afternoon concoction was that incited it, but I actually got emotional watching it. Who does that? So then later, I included it in my worship talk. Like a champion.
The tagline was someone's comment underneath the video on the page I watched it from: "This says so much by saying so little." Good job, random commenter. And thank you. We should live lives of such persevering quality in all we do that people can't help but hear the timbre of our lives and find it worthy. I just made that up. But that was the idea.
This post dedicated to my good friend Benjamin Lee Schnell.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Half Completely Done
Just got done with the Borgess Run for the Health of It Half Marathon, in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Scott Young came up with me and kept me good company even though he didn't get to run this time. It was a beautiful day for a race and a pretty good crowd of about 2,500 participating in the half.
My goal was to beat my last half time of about 1:35, and secretly to get 1:30. I was feeling pretty good for the first half of the race. It seemed like I was going a little faster than I should at times, even though they didn't seem to have the miles marked very consistently and I wasn't paying much attention to my watch this race like I usually have done. I was following one guy for several miles and then finally eased passed him a little after halfway. But I jumped too soon and kind of conked for a couple miles maybe around 10 and 11, apparently picking it back up a little bit for the last couple.
I finished just over my secret goal time, at 1:30:29, so it was a good run. That means average miles of 6:55, even though later I found out my first six miles were at an average of 7:15. I was 44th overall and 7th in my category, the first 25-year-old male. Those are the stats.
Overall a really good time (sure, both senses). Saw some people my parents know and talked for a little while. Found out one lady I passed was the same one who'd organized the 5k a couple weeks ago, and that she qualified through Canada for the world championships in triathlon (I think maaaaybe as in qualifying rounds for the Olympics???), which is in June or July in Spain. She's an SDA, I guess, because it was mentioned that it's a Sunday race so she can participate. That was pretty neat to hear. I was way jealous. But not of her huge blisters... She was hurting after the race.
Now it's time to look up how everyone did (yes, i.e., Lance) in the St. Croix Ironman this morning. Oh, and how the Giro was today, too. Then I think a nap.
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| (It's because you never know where to look on iPhones.) |
My goal was to beat my last half time of about 1:35, and secretly to get 1:30. I was feeling pretty good for the first half of the race. It seemed like I was going a little faster than I should at times, even though they didn't seem to have the miles marked very consistently and I wasn't paying much attention to my watch this race like I usually have done. I was following one guy for several miles and then finally eased passed him a little after halfway. But I jumped too soon and kind of conked for a couple miles maybe around 10 and 11, apparently picking it back up a little bit for the last couple.
I finished just over my secret goal time, at 1:30:29, so it was a good run. That means average miles of 6:55, even though later I found out my first six miles were at an average of 7:15. I was 44th overall and 7th in my category, the first 25-year-old male. Those are the stats.
 |
| More stats |
Overall a really good time (sure, both senses). Saw some people my parents know and talked for a little while. Found out one lady I passed was the same one who'd organized the 5k a couple weeks ago, and that she qualified through Canada for the world championships in triathlon (I think maaaaybe as in qualifying rounds for the Olympics???), which is in June or July in Spain. She's an SDA, I guess, because it was mentioned that it's a Sunday race so she can participate. That was pretty neat to hear. I was way jealous. But not of her huge blisters... She was hurting after the race.
Now it's time to look up how everyone did (yes, i.e., Lance) in the St. Croix Ironman this morning. Oh, and how the Giro was today, too. Then I think a nap.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
More Running
Another running update... how exciting. I ran a 5k last week that the Pioneer Memorial Church helped with. It was on Andrews' campus, so it was a couple relatively flat loops. My time was 19:50, so I definitely missed my very-optimistic goal of sub-19 by a chunk. But when I mapped it out later it came to 3.28, so if that's more accurate then I probably did run a sub-19. Anyway, it was fun to try and run fast again. The guy who won it was wearing Vibram FiveFingers, and so was the guy who came in right behind me. That's neat. (In case you read this, Al, I was wearing those old Adidas. They're troopers.)
And next week I'm running a half marathon in Kalamazoo with Scott Young. For the record, I'm hoping to beat my last half marathon time of 1:35:22, and secretly (i.e., very-optimistically) hoping to get a 1:30. We'll see. That would be pushing it for me. I'm looking forward to it, though. Too bad I'm missing everyone's graduations.
I turned on my Runmeter app today with half of the lawn left to mow and this was the result. I thought it was kind of funny. Apparently I mowed our roof and our neighbor's a bit, too. That's my bad.
And next week I'm running a half marathon in Kalamazoo with Scott Young. For the record, I'm hoping to beat my last half marathon time of 1:35:22, and secretly (i.e., very-optimistically) hoping to get a 1:30. We'll see. That would be pushing it for me. I'm looking forward to it, though. Too bad I'm missing everyone's graduations.
I turned on my Runmeter app today with half of the lawn left to mow and this was the result. I thought it was kind of funny. Apparently I mowed our roof and our neighbor's a bit, too. That's my bad.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Ready to Bloom
So I was worried a few weeks ago that 80ยบ days had already started for good until October. Fortunately the world cooled off again. We had some flurries today and I ran in them.
My mileage is going up and my pace is quickening, too. Every evening I run I'm more aware than ever of the effect of endorphins. I'm usually rather hyperish for an hour or two and life seems really good during those times. On today's run there was a moment I found myself just looking up into the branches of a tree I was nearing and watching the birds fly out of it. I was free and strong in that moment and it was good. I'm so thankful I can run. I suppose if I ever lose my legs I'll miss it, but there's bound to be other things that would be just as meaningful. But for now I don't have to look.
Of course, not all is so lovely. Still job hunting. Last week was a low time, frankly. I didn't get anything accomplished and spent most of the day in this chair or laying on my bed. I watched several movies again and am almost surprised that I got out to run or to the kitchen to eat sometimes. Being so down like that really plays with your mind, especially when you were doing so so well just a couple weeks ago, and while you're supposed to be "impressing" people as you search for jobs. I don't feel very impressive knowing I spent an entire week not looking at job openings at all, let alone doing anything around the house. And it's the attitude, the demeanor, that stinks the most. It's a wicked stench and the aftertaste is muy amargo. Let's be for real, feeling worthless and paralyzed sucks.
I guess Easter was good. I ignored myself enough to accompany Mom to Andrews' Passion Play, and it was good to get out, of course. Jer, Em, and I watched The Passion the evening before, too, I guess, and having them over was also very good. And then I had a most spectacular Sunday, which I will recount briefly (Edit: or not) here:
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| Tree I passed under during a run in Michigan farmland. #runningscenes |
Of course, not all is so lovely. Still job hunting. Last week was a low time, frankly. I didn't get anything accomplished and spent most of the day in this chair or laying on my bed. I watched several movies again and am almost surprised that I got out to run or to the kitchen to eat sometimes. Being so down like that really plays with your mind, especially when you were doing so so well just a couple weeks ago, and while you're supposed to be "impressing" people as you search for jobs. I don't feel very impressive knowing I spent an entire week not looking at job openings at all, let alone doing anything around the house. And it's the attitude, the demeanor, that stinks the most. It's a wicked stench and the aftertaste is muy amargo. Let's be for real, feeling worthless and paralyzed sucks.
I guess Easter was good. I ignored myself enough to accompany Mom to Andrews' Passion Play, and it was good to get out, of course. Jer, Em, and I watched The Passion the evening before, too, I guess, and having them over was also very good. And then I had a most spectacular Sunday, which I will recount briefly (Edit: or not) here:
So I sleep in because I went to bed late Saturday night. Not a good start to the day when you're trying to get your feet under you again because you feel like a slob, but at the same time, sleeping in is kind of nice. And it was suddenly glorious when I realized that the Paris-Roubaix race was on. (That's a one-day race, a "classic" because of its reputation and history.) I tuned into that in time to catch most of the last 50km or so. While doing that I accepted the offer of coffee from some friends of the family who were staying with us for a couple nights. Then I ate and got some soccer gear on to go check and see if they were playing this weekend at the gym (all while annoying everyone with my excitement about the race). Turns out the gym was still full of resurrection paraphernalia, so I rushed home to see if I'd get there in time to watch the race winner cross the finish line. I estimate I missed that by about two minutes. No big deal. It was a fantastic race in which Tom Boonen dominated the entire time I was watching, riding solo to gain a 1:39 lead over the chasing group and win with authority. Fantastic stuff. So since I didn't play soccer I immediately switched gears and prepped for a Sunday long run. Twelve amazing miles later those endorphins were kicking in and I was stoked to be alive. I wouldn't say the rest of the day went downhill, but that morning and the run were certainly the highlights. That evening we did watch We Bought a Zoo, too, which I enjoyed and recommend. Sunday was nice.
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| Pretty blooms in our front yard. |
And now I'm back to feeling a little alive again, like maybe I still do have something to contribute to humanity. Some little project ideas that I've had simmering in my mind for a while are starting to surface bit by bit, and I'm hoping to go along with the momentum. In the meantime, I guess I'll keep thinking about master's degrees (and look up for sure how that's used, whether with apostrophe or not, and when), looking for job ideas, thinking about my future, and playing Canvas Rider like a boss. I imagine more lows will come, and probably too soon, but hopefully there'll be more upward motion than downward. Maybe you can help me with that.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Sitting Myself to Death
Last Sunday I ran 10 miles and was proud of getting there again. But during the run my right calf started feeling really tight, even somewhat pulled or torn. Ish. I think it's residue from that soccer injury my last year at Southern, but I can't even remember for sure which leg that was.
I finally ran again on Wednesday and both calves got really tight, but didn't feel torn anymore. Today I decided to look up, and I quote, "how to loosen tight calves." A livestrong link was the second one and since I want to win like Lance, I clicked. Three sentences in:
"Tight calf muscles are a common complaint. They occur as a result of living a sedentary lifestyle or because of strenuous exercise."
That hurt.
And I need it to be a wake up call. I'm either sitting at my desk or at the kitchen table: sedentary lifestyle. Or I'm running ten miles on Sunday: strenuous exercise. But definitely it's the first one that is more true and that pains me. Sedentary is constricting me.
I want, no need, to be moving. Moving!
I finally ran again on Wednesday and both calves got really tight, but didn't feel torn anymore. Today I decided to look up, and I quote, "how to loosen tight calves." A livestrong link was the second one and since I want to win like Lance, I clicked. Three sentences in:
"Tight calf muscles are a common complaint. They occur as a result of living a sedentary lifestyle or because of strenuous exercise."
That hurt.
And I need it to be a wake up call. I'm either sitting at my desk or at the kitchen table: sedentary lifestyle. Or I'm running ten miles on Sunday: strenuous exercise. But definitely it's the first one that is more true and that pains me. Sedentary is constricting me.
I want, no need, to be moving. Moving!
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Samuel
Today marked essentially my first foray into the outside world since... oh, I guess getting my teeth cleaned (but that doesn't count). And it wasn't very far. But a couple weeks ago Davide invited me to play soccer with the doctoral students and Andrews faculty on Sunday mornings (apparently I qualify because I'm a relative of faculty), and that sounded like pretty good fun to me, so today I went. And it was a lot of fun, albeit extremely exhausting. I overestimated my fitness and endurance by a long shot.
There was one guy, Samuel, who just impressed me. He looked on the younger side of middle aged, and this guy was a trooper. He's quite short and fit, so I think he has that going for him, but the dude did not stop running. And he would sprint back and forth when needed, the entire time he was there. And I mean sprint. When I've played with people older than me before, I'm usually one of the ones who has legs the longest, but Samuel was putting me, and everyone else, to shame. Like I said, I was impressed.
I want to have legs like that in life, too. Be able to sprint forward with the ball to attack life head on, but then pivot and race back to defend my own base when I've made a mistake or lose momentum. I think that idea is one of the keys to a fulfilling and successful life. I'm trying to work on it a little bit.
The other day while doing my little workout in the basement, I was listening to the Psalms—and almost getting a little emotional, to be honest. The ups and downs expressed there are so human. David is sometimes sprinting forward in high praise to Almighty God, then suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and having to race back to defend—whether it's because he sinned, or because his enemies have him surrounded, or whatever. But he seems to always end with forward motion, a kind of But you are still Almighty God, and I will put my trust in You deal. Hearing his psalms provokes the desire for a dogged persistence in life and in pursuit of God. David must've learned from the best.
Maybe we both learned something from Samuel.
There was one guy, Samuel, who just impressed me. He looked on the younger side of middle aged, and this guy was a trooper. He's quite short and fit, so I think he has that going for him, but the dude did not stop running. And he would sprint back and forth when needed, the entire time he was there. And I mean sprint. When I've played with people older than me before, I'm usually one of the ones who has legs the longest, but Samuel was putting me, and everyone else, to shame. Like I said, I was impressed.
I want to have legs like that in life, too. Be able to sprint forward with the ball to attack life head on, but then pivot and race back to defend my own base when I've made a mistake or lose momentum. I think that idea is one of the keys to a fulfilling and successful life. I'm trying to work on it a little bit.
The other day while doing my little workout in the basement, I was listening to the Psalms—and almost getting a little emotional, to be honest. The ups and downs expressed there are so human. David is sometimes sprinting forward in high praise to Almighty God, then suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and having to race back to defend—whether it's because he sinned, or because his enemies have him surrounded, or whatever. But he seems to always end with forward motion, a kind of But you are still Almighty God, and I will put my trust in You deal. Hearing his psalms provokes the desire for a dogged persistence in life and in pursuit of God. David must've learned from the best.
Maybe we both learned something from Samuel.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
One Paragraph
I'm 25 now. It snowed this past weekend and it felt like it was going to be the last snow of the season. Today it hit 60s, and when I went outside I was overcome with the feeling that cycling must ensue. And quick. The biathlon season seems to be coming to a close, with fantastic races happening right now in Ruhpolding, Germany. Fortunately, the cycling season has already begun, and there are some exciting stages of Paris-Nice happening right now as well. I've been hearing for a while now that one space after the period is the thing to do, but Emily's post pushed me over the line, so I'm trying. I also learned the difference, I think, between "a while" and "awhile." It seems a good rule of thumb so far is that if it comes with "for" before it, then it's with a space (really, because it's a noun). I got my teeth cleaned this morning for the first time in probably about two years. Gross, you say? I agree. But no cavities and they said they could even make me a bottom retainer if I decided for it. I just might do that. I've spent hours over the past few days organizing pictures on my computer and trying to decide how to archive them. I burned a few gigs onto a DVD today. Likely the first of many. I don't know why I'm so concerned about losing them. Actually, I know one reason. I'm secretly (well not anymore) trying to prepare things for my biographer. I've been running pretty regularly for several weeks now. I need to start looking up races. My fifth mile today was about a 6:52. Much too fast, but I'm bragging about it, so obviously I'm not too concerned. I loved, loved, running in the cold weather up here. Especially when it's windy and snowing. I got over-the-ear headphones from Skullcandy (Amazon gift card and sale, just for the record). I haven't written the review yet, but I want to because I feel like it's my duty to warn everyone they're not as great as all the teens say they are. I'm wearing them right now though. But they hurt my head and don't even sound that great. I rearranged my room. The cat sometimes sleeps at the foot of the bed. Don't tell Mom. I realized I'm really behind on my Apple operating system, so I ordered Snow Leopard and will hopefully get around to installing it tomorrow. Hence the frantic photo reorganizing and archiving. Once done, that should put me only a couple OS versions behind, right? And I suppose there are other little things that are happening or that I've done. Maybe some sort-of big ones (but probably not). No job yet. Or knowing what I want to do. If I stay busy enough at home, maybe someone will notice.
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| The Ideal Life |
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Snow all around
I went to church this weekend and was able to log my first hours in the "Spiritual" category of my 2012 records. After that, it all went uphill. Or down, depending on how you want to look at it.
We sledded the junk out of Grand Mere that afternoon. After getting anywhere between 4 and 10 inches of powdery cold fluff the night before depending on how far away you are from the Lake, the little dunes were just frigid with anticipation of our sleds. A little group of us headed over, armed with new and old sleds, and even a couple of inner tubes.
I learned that rushing downhill in powdery snow into the wind is akin to getting up in the morning, pointing a high-powered fan toward your face, and pretty much slashing your cheeks and forehead with sandpaper you'd left in the freezer overnight. Spectacular. Needless to say, we took turns sharing a couple pairs of ski goggles and I was thankful for my beard.
I think I only said "I'm going to live somewhere where it snows like this someday" half a dozen times. Even so, Emily got a little tired of reminding me... I already do.
The sunset turned all the snow pink and red for several minutes as we walked back to the cars. We were cold and tired and super ready for game night.
After a few hours of popcorn I went to bed. Okay just kidding. We also played games, including Risk on Jeremiah's homemade "board," but sometimes I wonder if I could survive on a diet of popcorn alone. Maybe flavored in crushed up vitamins now and then for a little bonus nutritional value.
To round off a pretty stellar 24 hours, I dragged myself from the depths of slumber to witness Bjoerndalen* of Norway win his bajillion and third biathlon race. He came from behind and this was the 17th year he's won a race. King of Biathlon, they call him. It was fantastic. Another sighting of an historical sporting event randomly caught at a strange time checked off my list [of unknown items and length].
_____
*Quick description of this 2-minute clip of the race: We see Svendsen (Norway;red) and Fourcade (France; black and yellow) shooting their fourth (and last) 5-shot round of shooting during the 12.5km race. They are in the lead at the moment, both of this race and of the World Cup rankings, incidentally, so it's significant how this race turns out. Fourcade ends up missing two shots, and Svendsen three, meaning they have to do two and three small penalty laps of 150 meters respectively. This gives Bjoerndalen, who we see start shooting at about :35, a chance to catch up if he hits all his targets. He does! And for the rest of the 2.5 or so kilometers, Fourcade trails by just a few seconds (he trailed by only five at one point and ended 13 seconds behind), coming in second, and Svendsen ended up getting passed by a couple folks for fifth, I believe. Thus, Bjoerndalen, at 38 years old, becomes the oldest to with a World Cup biathlon race (according to that YouTube description anyway), and I think sets (or maintains?) a record of winning at least one race for over a decade and a half. Get it? Awesome stuff.
We sledded the junk out of Grand Mere that afternoon. After getting anywhere between 4 and 10 inches of powdery cold fluff the night before depending on how far away you are from the Lake, the little dunes were just frigid with anticipation of our sleds. A little group of us headed over, armed with new and old sleds, and even a couple of inner tubes.
I learned that rushing downhill in powdery snow into the wind is akin to getting up in the morning, pointing a high-powered fan toward your face, and pretty much slashing your cheeks and forehead with sandpaper you'd left in the freezer overnight. Spectacular. Needless to say, we took turns sharing a couple pairs of ski goggles and I was thankful for my beard.
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| iMoves aren't the best for iPhones, sorry. |
I think I only said "I'm going to live somewhere where it snows like this someday" half a dozen times. Even so, Emily got a little tired of reminding me... I already do.
The sunset turned all the snow pink and red for several minutes as we walked back to the cars. We were cold and tired and super ready for game night.
After a few hours of popcorn I went to bed. Okay just kidding. We also played games, including Risk on Jeremiah's homemade "board," but sometimes I wonder if I could survive on a diet of popcorn alone. Maybe flavored in crushed up vitamins now and then for a little bonus nutritional value.
 |
| Section of the Risk "board" (he made it on a sheep skin) |
To round off a pretty stellar 24 hours, I dragged myself from the depths of slumber to witness Bjoerndalen* of Norway win his bajillion and third biathlon race. He came from behind and this was the 17th year he's won a race. King of Biathlon, they call him. It was fantastic. Another sighting of an historical sporting event randomly caught at a strange time checked off my list [of unknown items and length].
_____
*Quick description of this 2-minute clip of the race: We see Svendsen (Norway;red) and Fourcade (France; black and yellow) shooting their fourth (and last) 5-shot round of shooting during the 12.5km race. They are in the lead at the moment, both of this race and of the World Cup rankings, incidentally, so it's significant how this race turns out. Fourcade ends up missing two shots, and Svendsen three, meaning they have to do two and three small penalty laps of 150 meters respectively. This gives Bjoerndalen, who we see start shooting at about :35, a chance to catch up if he hits all his targets. He does! And for the rest of the 2.5 or so kilometers, Fourcade trails by just a few seconds (he trailed by only five at one point and ended 13 seconds behind), coming in second, and Svendsen ended up getting passed by a couple folks for fifth, I believe. Thus, Bjoerndalen, at 38 years old, becomes the oldest to with a World Cup biathlon race (according to that YouTube description anyway), and I think sets (or maintains?) a record of winning at least one race for over a decade and a half. Get it? Awesome stuff.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
The Professional Crastinator and His Record Keeping
I've been working on data entry for the last couple of days. Really, I was supposed to have it done by, say, the 3rd of January. Instead, I have procrastinated as if I was getting paid to, and I'm only getting somewhere today.
I've always liked keeping track of things, but I haven't always kept up with it, especially the past couple years. This year, since I've been a lazy, unemployed slacker I decided I might as well log all the wasted hours of movie-watching, reading, exercise, etc. that I'm doing. The secret goal my good self has is that my bad self will see how atrociously my precious time is spent and slowly, subtly, surreptitiously begin to weed itself out of my existence. Maybe even bad self will want a job someday.
So, I've been scribbling down most of my "significant" activities throughout the days since January 1 in a little yellow notepad. I think I've settled on a handful of basic categories (mental, detrimental, physical, spiritual, social, and sleep) and would like to henceforth divide my main activities into said categories.
Up to this point the majority of my records only show TV and movie watching, reading, running and workouts, and a little bit of other stuff like sports watching. But I'd like to start keeping track of time spent with family and friends (like planned time or game time or the like), journaling and writing, and ideally, work and God time eventually. I'll have to add this blogging time in. It will be in my mental category. Ha.
So now you know. Here's an example of the graphs* I find helpful. They are the first five weeks of this year, by time spent (in hours) in main categories. (Note: Week 1 is where detrimental was almost a full-time job.) (And EDIT: it doesn't seem to be animated in the post itself, but it's a .gif so if you click it you can see the animation....)
I've always liked keeping track of things, but I haven't always kept up with it, especially the past couple years. This year, since I've been a lazy, unemployed slacker I decided I might as well log all the wasted hours of movie-watching, reading, exercise, etc. that I'm doing. The secret goal my good self has is that my bad self will see how atrociously my precious time is spent and slowly, subtly, surreptitiously begin to weed itself out of my existence. Maybe even bad self will want a job someday.So, I've been scribbling down most of my "significant" activities throughout the days since January 1 in a little yellow notepad. I think I've settled on a handful of basic categories (mental, detrimental, physical, spiritual, social, and sleep) and would like to henceforth divide my main activities into said categories.
Up to this point the majority of my records only show TV and movie watching, reading, running and workouts, and a little bit of other stuff like sports watching. But I'd like to start keeping track of time spent with family and friends (like planned time or game time or the like), journaling and writing, and ideally, work and God time eventually. I'll have to add this blogging time in. It will be in my mental category. Ha.
So now you know. Here's an example of the graphs* I find helpful. They are the first five weeks of this year, by time spent (in hours) in main categories. (Note: Week 1 is where detrimental was almost a full-time job.) (And EDIT: it doesn't seem to be animated in the post itself, but it's a .gif so if you click it you can see the animation....)
I'm curious if anyone else I know does stuff like this. I suppose keeping track of exercise, like miles run or something, is more common (I am starting another daytum account* for that, too, and keep track of it at dailymile.com, bee tee dub; exciting, I know), but maybe not so many people keep such ridiculous records?
*I'm using daytum.com, a useful, albeit not-updated-anymore, site for my online record keeping. It has a few ways to visually illustrate your records (charts, timelines, etc.) that I like. It took me a while to set mine up the way I like it, with the right categories and items and accuracy when displayed by a certain time frame, but I think I finally got it.
Friday, January 20, 2012
When life gives you snow, it's probably cold. And winter.
I think penguins are interesting animals, but sometimes I don't bother with them. Yesterday I decided to play a clever joke on the parents while they were at work. It snowed a lot the night before so we had plenty of flakes on the lawn, just sitting there waiting to be utilized. I utilized them—by making snow speed bumps on the driveway. The penguins would've been proud.
The parents weren't as excited when they came home and had to dig to the garage. I undermined the joke somewhat, I think, with a gesture of thoughtfulness rare in these dark days by leaving the snow shovel for them at the road. They weren't as appreciative as I imagined. What do they expect, the snow blower? Please.
Before:
The parents weren't as excited when they came home and had to dig to the garage. I undermined the joke somewhat, I think, with a gesture of thoughtfulness rare in these dark days by leaving the snow shovel for them at the road. They weren't as appreciative as I imagined. What do they expect, the snow blower? Please.
Before:
After:
Those little jokes are just the best. And if you're skeptical, think about it. Why would I even do that? Well you're right. That would be ridiculous. And I am no practical joker.
Update:
For the record, when writing the above, I had no idea today was National Penguin Awareness Day.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Yesterday we went sledding at Grand Mere. We used cardboard boxes, flattened, and the lid of a plastic storage bin. We found the Back Bowl, a secret awesome place. I was wearing new snow boots that kept my feet warm because they have a thermal lining. Forever living in snowy places.
Then when I got home no one was there. So since I didn't want to die, I walked through the snow for an hour until giving up and letting my sister rescue me from the cold. Then I ate a balanced meal of egg rolls, stripples, a sweet potato, a pop-tart, a smoothie, and popcorn.
Today I got up early and watched the men's biathlon pursuit race and made cornbread. My legs were sore.
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