Race Report -- 1/2 marathon in Richmond; goal setting.

Hello and welcome back to the Rundown! Its been a couple of months off of blogging for me, reflecting my general easing off of the training after IMW. A big picture update, first:

The Rundown got a big boost in October when B was hit by a car while in Hawai'i, just days before the race. Tough guy that he is, he actually started the race, but, unable to run a step, DNF'd at mile 16.5, having walked that far on what turned out to be a broken hip. B is taking this philosophically, taking the opportunity to work on his swimming, keeping the legs fit by running in the pool 5x a week.

After taking four weeks pretty much off, I began running 20 mins a day in October, getting geared up for a 1/2 marathon November 14th. An inauspicious timing, it turns out, as I had lost most of my IM fitness without having built up a new base for racing, but I figured I could leverage my endurance and gut out a better performance - I was feeling FAST. I was regularly running 7:20s on the short days, and occasionally faster. I decided that this would be a race where I could really test myself, try to go out and run 7 minute miles and see how long I could hold on.

Getting to Richmond to pick up my packet was a pain in the Arse. I don't recommend trying to get to Richmond from DC at 5 pm on a rainy friday. It sucked, the expo closed at 9 pm, and if I didn't get there, I wouldn't be able to race. It should only be a 2 hour trip -- I got there at 8:30!

The rain was mostly gone in the AM, just very very humid and occasionally misty, but 50 degrees or so, just the right temp for me to run in. I wasn't feeling great, but I took off at the start near the front of the pack of 5000, and ran my first mile in 7 flat. So far so good!

Or, not so much. I was allready breathing hard! I just couldn't find it in me to cowboy up, bear down and hold the 7s. Mile 2, 7:15, Mile 3, 7:26, and there I stayed for most of the race, slowly giving ground, finishing in 1:38:02. Average pace, 7:29.

I ended up 27th out of 376 in my age group; 229th out of 4,578 finishers overall.

It wasn't the race I wanted to run, but I can't be too dissapointed with the results. In the spring I ran 1:40 in a 1/2 marathon, so this is a good sign that the general level of fitness is improving. I'll plan on doing a few more footraces in the spring, gearing up for a marathon in March or so.

In the meantime, I've gotten back in the pool, and set an impressive mark -- 34 seconds for 50 yards. That's not too shabby for a non-swimmmer -- pity that the shortest race I am likely to do is 8x that distance!

Some goals for Year 2 of the Rundown:

1/2 Ironman in June, Swim sub-30 minutes, Bike 2:30; Run 1:35.

Get the average speed of my 50 mile rides to 21 mph.

Run a 3:30 marathon.

Other than that, building a good base for year three, when I am going to try for a 10 hour IM. Long-term goal -- 9:15 IM in 2013, qualifying for Kona before I turn 45!

Rundown Progress Report: Year 1, T-7 days

Madison, Wisconsin. B and I rolled into town last night about 9:30, driving up from the DC area (overnighted in PA, stopped in Chi for a ~15 mile run around 4:30). Checked into the hotel, and this morning went out and rode the bike course. Well, the 44 miles of the loop. Check it out for yerself. I imagine we'll drive the whole thing at some point this week, just to get a feel for the move from downtown into the hills.

And hills there are. Honestly, though, I think I had in my mind that this was going to be like a stage in the Pyrenees, and really its just some rolling hills. The training I've been doing out in MoCo will get me through this, if I'm smart. 2 bigger hills, 1 monster downhill, a couple of steep climbs coming right after 90degree turns, but nothing that will be too debilitating, I think. A lot of my training rides had hills that were steeper, though they also all had stretches that were generally flatter. The plan is the same as it always has been -- ride easy for 80-90 miles, then see if I can bring it up a peg on the back stretch. Ride 6:20 - 6:30 ISH (with no expectations, really -- just ride, baby), and get out onto the run course hydrated, well nourished, and with a lot left in the tank for the marathon.

We found a nice bike shop on the course, which was good because I popped a spoke (on the same wheel I popped a spoke on LAST week, thanks conte's of bethesda for getting the tension right NOT) and so we stopped for coffee and a wheel fix. I thought B was going to go nuts at the midwestern chill attitude of the guy running the shop -- but it was all good, he clearly knew his stuff (even to B's high standards) and I'll probably go back there if I decide to spring for a new front derailleur. Which I probably ought to, dammit.

Lots of stuff to do this week besides prep for the race -- I've brought my research materials and need to start hacking away at chapter 4, I've got TA stuff, I've got prep to do for the class I'm taking. But I am really glad to be out here early, getting settled in for the race. 9 months of work, all coming to a point in 7 days. I'm going to try to do smaller updates daily, just to keep track of my state of mind and the process, with the thought of writing something up for a tri magazine at some point. Today, I am tired but I feel good! Right ankle is a bit tweaky, by which I mean it keeps sending me signals that its due for an overuse injury, but it isn't there yet. So, taking THAT very easy, ice and all. Good form will be key, esp. in the last miles of the marathon.

Oh, and got a new racing jersey -- UMD Tri club. Very cool, I am just hoping it wont chafe too bad on the run -- was ok today on the Brick, but thats only 30 minutes, going to have to see how it does on a longer run . . . pictures to follow!

The Country Wife, Dental Surgery, and Running in the Dark

These two things that are only proximate because I experienced them within a 18-hour span; despite the easy opportunity to take a swing at restoration comedy, I can happily say that the CSC's production of The Country Wife was very good.

The dental surgery went well too -- and, now I KNOW that I would rather sit through three hours of Wycherly than have my gums cut open. I suspected as much, but you don't really know until you get to juxtapose the experiences this closely.

Now, for those of you out there in blogreaderworld who aren't familiar with the theatre of the English Restoration, here's what you need to know: Sex, Gullibility, Ruffles, and Asides. A-MAY-Zing costumes at this production -- they have a team of illegal immigrant seamsters locked away somewhere, thats the only explanation, or to put it another way, I found myself, in Ellicot City, wondering why these characters didn't have a change of clothes for the second act. BECAUSE I BELIEVED THESE WERE THEIR CLOTHES. The costumes are just exactly that crazy good. Other tech elements varied from topnotch (set, sound, props) to unoffensive (lighting, stagemanagement).

The acting was also strong, with (almost all of) the main characters having both a firm grasp of their characters and the appropriate pace for the material. Sadly, Mr. Pinchwife seemed to be in a different play, perhaps one by Pinter, where pauses are intended to be thought provoking. Here, the thoughts provoked began with "Does he know his lines?" progressed through "No, he's just a really, really self-indulgent actor," landed regularly on "Louder, Faster, Funnier!" and ended on "Does he think there is some psychological realism going on here in this play? 'Cause there aint." The titular Country-(Mrs. Pinch)Wife was generally spot on, though her dialect occasionally slipped perilously close to a cockney -- I kept thinking she was going to sing "Just you wait, 'Enry 'Iggins, just you wait!"

Directorally there were some neat choices, including intricate fan work for the ladies and a courtly dance near the end of act 1 that helped clarify relationships onstage - useful particularly for those who haven't read the play, as there are quite a few people to keep track of. Three hours is a loooong time to sustain comedy, but generally speaking the cast is up to the task. I do wonder what was up with Mr. Horner taking off his wig in the second act -- that was a bit of business that seemed like it might be going somewhere, but never landed. Oh, and the off-stage sex was, you have to see it for yourself.

Playing for I think two weeks, at the Howard County Center, 8510 High Ridge Road, Ellicott City MD 21043. Just five mins off I 29 N -- google maps does the trick.

I had the penultimate dental surgery today -- guess how long I put it off? Six friggin months. I could have had this done back in August, but there was always a good reason not to do it. I want to attach a picture, but for the sake of my squeamish readers (hi mom!) I shan't. It IS cool, though. They cut open the gums, and screwed a new cap onto the posts they implanted back in november of '07. Next step, in three weeks or so, is to get the actual caps/bridge whatever the dentist decides will best fill the gap. And then this decades-long sojurn with dentistry will be at an end, of sorts. I have an entirely reasonable fear of dentists, and if I don't have to get into a chair again until 2025 I would be totally down with that.

Finally, running in the dark. Last week, coach B suggested that we run on a new trail in MD, one he ran previously with Dr. Whispers. He had to drop someone off at the airport in the afternoon, so at the end of a beautiful, sunny Sunday, we hit the trail. It was 5 pm, 50 degrees, and I was running 18 miles. The first problem i discovered is that, despite the lovely weather of the day, the snow and ice from last week's storm hadn't yet melted on all of the trail -- particularly the shady bits. Ok, I thought, this isn't great, bad traction and I am slowing down, but no real worries.

The next problem I encountered between mile 5 and 6 -- a puddle, ten feet long and 3 inches deep, of snowmelt that covered the entire trail. Now, this was about an hour into the run, and guess what is happening at 6 pm on Sunday in DC in January? That's right, it was getting pretty dark. So, I misjudged the depth and extent of the puddle, and now my feet were soaked. Grrrr. Fine. I thought they would dry out as I ran. They would have, too . . . if that had been the last puddle.

Around mile nine I come upon the Mormon Tabernacle (not that one, the one here in DC) and the trail comes to a road, with a little post that says "finish" Now, I know the trail goes all the way to the DC line, 'cause B told me so. But he's a good 30 minutes ahead of me at this point, so I try to figure out where the trail goes. There's a dirt-bike trail, that's not right. I run up the hill next to the temple, but the trail turns into sidewalks, and I know THATs not right, its not even going south. Finally, just when I have almost resigned myself to running through the puddles in a series of out-and-backs to rack up the full 18 miles, I find the trail again, 120 yards down the road. It is now pitch black, I can't see the mile markers (which were the whole point of running on this trail) and I'm halfway done.

The next stretch of the trail is actually pretty good - no puddles, not much snow - and I can see that this would be a really nice run, IF I could see more than a foot in front of my face. I am finally getting near the turnaround point, and who do I see running back to me but B!

"This sucks." he says. Thanks for the news, B.
"How far to the turnaround?"
"Less than a mile, but don't go down there -- its all underwater." Charming.

So, I turn around and head back. Soon, B has outpaced me (he stubbornly continues to run 1 minute per mile faster than me, despite my getting faster every week. Bastard) and I am back running alone in the dark. I'm prepared for the ice, which is now re-freezing as the temperature drops below 32; I'm prepared for - resigned to - the puddles, which now have neat coats of wafer-thin ice over them, so you really can't see them; what I am not prepared for are the deer. Seriously -- where the hell did all the deer come from? I ran within 5 feet of half a dozen deer, and saw a dozen more, and heard who knows how many more. They didn't have the good sense to run away from me, either -- just looked up and wondered what the hell my problem was. Something I imagine many of you are wondering as well . . .

Final indignity? 2:45 mins after we began, I turn the corner and see the basketball court where we left the car. Hooray? Nope. B is gone -- no car in the lot! I suspect he went back downtrail to try to find me, and that is in fact what happened, but it was ten minutes before he came back -- ten long minutes with soaking wet feet, in the now sub-zero weather, with no phone, id, money, or nothin.

Now, writing all that, it seems like a choice slice of hell; but really, it . . . no, it was a pretty choice slice of hell, truth be told. But now that it is a week in the past, I can see that it probably wasn't the worst thing that could have happened -- I was frickin miserable in the last quarter of the run, but you know what? I fully expect to be miserable in the last quarter of the Marathon in March -- its just a long damn way to run, yeah? So, now I know that I can run, even when I am miserable, and it isn't going to kill me. I was talking to B about how the racing is way more mental than I expected when I started running. He agreed, and observed that "You can't reduce competition to sheer physical fitness; people who train fast don't always perform that way in a race. A lot of it is mental toughness on the course, to run your race and not someone else's."

And that's what I am doing here -- running my own race. Chapter two of the dissertation is in the tank -- and its pretty damn good, though there are some holes I need to fill by a visit to NYC's performing arts library archives. I've lost 25 pounds since November, and hope to race at 150, which I haven't weighed since I was in high school. M is learning to lead West Coast Swing, which makes her tremendously happy, and she's good at it, which makes it fun to follow her when we go dancing. So -- despite the tough times, things are good.

Brother's birthday is tomorrow -- Happy Bday, G!

3k race at the tidal basin yields surprising result!

So, B told me that today I could choose my poison -- either a 3k race at noon, or 10x400 relay tonight in Virginia. No fool I, I chose the 3k.

As you know, faithful reader, I have been training to run 8 minute miles. 3000 meters = 1.86411358 miles, as any decent google calculator will tell you. So, I should run it in about fifteen minutes, or a bit less. That was my goal.

We got down to the tidal basin in good time, warmed up, and got to the start -- very informal race, more a community building thing than anything serious. Maybe 60 people there? We go out, and around the FDR memorial, across the bridge, around the Jefferson memorial, and back to the starting line in a loop.

I'm pushing hard from the get go. I watch B and the lead group set out fast -- 6 or so people in that pack. I let a good amount of the pack go past, but I resist letting everyone fly by me, digging pretty deep in the first 1/4 mile to keep my spot until we get across a little one-person-wide bridge. Three people pass me here, and I am seriously sucking wind. I figure I am maybe 1/2 way through, but I don't know, because . . .

I didn't wear a watch -- on purpose. I had this sneaking suspicion that I have been allowing myself to settle for a pace that is near what I am told I should do -- the 8 minute mile thing -- instead of really just running as hard as I can. Short race, I figure, I can run fifteen minutes hard. Lets see what that turns out to be.

Two more people pass me, first a woman who had been riding my shoulder for a minute. I let her go, since I am struggling to find my breathing. Just when I settle into a rhythm that doesn't involve forcing my breath, a tall gentleman swings past me. I manage to stay with him for about a minute, but he slowly draws away from me. Now we're past the Jefferson memorial and coming into what I suspect must be the home stretch.

Yes -- I'm coming over a bridge, and I can see the starting line, around two curves and down a straightaway. And on my left, an man in a blue kit, pushing hard, passes me. I decide that isn't going to happen, and reel him in. We dance for about 20 seconds, jockeying around the curves.

We hit the straightaway and I hear someone coming up hard behind us. There's nothing and no one between me and the finish line but flat road, and I decide that's the way its going to be. From somewhere I find a kick, open up my stride and tear hell for leather down the stretch. I see B walking back from the finish line about here, and he yells something that I don't catch, but I interpret to be "Bring it in! You're going to make 15!" Ok, I think, hang on.

And I do -- coming across the finish line 26th. I am wiped -- I have left nothing on the track, and take a good two minutes just to catch my breath. The man in the blue kit comes over and says "nice finish." B tells me that I put about two meters between myself and them, and held it down the last 200m. I feel good. And then B tells me my time.

12:59.

Hruh? 12 minutes and 59 seconds. That works out to 6 minute 45 second miles -- 75 seconds faster, per mile, than I was hoping to run. Damn. I can tell you without fear of contradiction that I couldn't have held that pace for another mile, though. Not today. But . . . this time next year? Maybe I can turn this little 3k into a 10k in 47 minutes flat, and a marathon in 3 hours 40 minutes.

Bottom line? I felt good. I raced hard, and coach says I raced pretty smart, too, not kicking it in too early or too late. We're chalking this one up in the Win column.

Finding the Seam

This was a productive week. Although I did not run as much as I would have liked, I did get a lot of writing done, and the quality of said writing seems to be pretty darn high. As an added bonus, I think I have found my smoking gun.



As you, faithful reader, know, I contend that the Waltz became the sine qua non of ballroom dancing at/around the turn of the century, in response to the increased popularity of African American dance and musical forms. When I look at the popular ballroom dances of today, mostly what I see is a variation of the Waltz - yes, even in the latin categories. Or, more correctly, I see that these dances have all been through a filter that makes them look more like Waltz than anything else.



This week, while tracking down some more information on Allan Dodworth, a dancing master in NYC in the 19th century, I came across a mention of an organization, the American Society of Professors of Dance. They organized in the 1870s, and incorporated in New York in 1883. Every year, they held an annual meeting, and every year the NYTimes or the Washington Post managed to print something about their agenda. Some years more, some less, but from 1883 - 1918, I have been able to track the broad strokes of this association.



In 1922 they re-appear as the American Society of Teachers of Dance (A move to be more like the British teacher's group, the Imperial STD? Likely.), but 1922 is really beyond the scope of my study. It is telling, however, that the organization has such continuity, particularly in light of their principles. They were formed in reaction to the dwindling popularity of set dances -- quadrilles, lancers, germans, what you probably think of as "folk dancing" if you think of it at all, which, exepting when you read this blog, you probably dont -- in favor of "round" dances, like the Waltz, two-step, polka, etc; what you know today, broadly speaking, as ballroom dances. Partners go around the room together, in a counterclockwise direction, yada yada yada. The problem for the dance teachers is that round dances like these are WAY easier to learn and perform, they require far less by way of skill and dedication to master -- you can learn them from a friend, and have fun doing them. What to do? They are going to be out of a job if things keep moving in that direction. . . This is the 1880s. They aim at Standardization of performance as a way of job security -- making everyone everywhere dance in the same way. Sound familiar? Well, maybe not to you, but ask a ballroom dancer that you know if they could go anywhere and dance with anyone, and odds are they would say yes -- dancing is that standardized today. Common knowledge, really. Please, don't bother me with such trivial distractions!



Anyway. By 1900, the ASPD have far worse problems than the popularity of the Waltz or two-step. No one dances the waltz anymore, they are all into this crazy new fad, Ragtime. Long story short (too late!) they go to war against it, ban the music from their halls, and try to get people to dance properly. And the model they hold up, the standard to which everyone they instruct must aspire? You guessed it -- the Waltz. Boo-yah. Knocked out 15 pages this week on these folks, and there's more to come. That's chapter two nearly in the bag, and with luck I'll bring it in only 2 weeks behind my anticipated schedule.



On a sadder note, I got my first rejection letter today. Ok, yes, thank you Landru, its not my first rejection letter EVAR. But for the current job hunt, we can scratch the Jesuits of Scranton off our list of prospective employers.



Ran 10.12 miles today, 92 minutes. Rock Creek Park is really quite loverly!

To Be or To Do?

That, it seems, is the question in my class this semester. We have been looking at race and sex in theatre and film, and the big question that we've been grappling with has to do with this -- is your race/sex something that you ARE, or is it something that you DO?

http://www.qwantz.com/archive/000514.html

Consider the qualities: black/white/yellow/blue/gay/straight/bi/male/female/transgender -- are they something that pre-exist your conscious choices, or are they the result of decisions that you make, and behaviors that you choose? When dealing with prejudice and bias, this is a fairly important question, and advocates of equality and fair treatment, it seems to me, tend to waver on this issue depending on how the answer helps them at any given time. But that's getting ahead of myself a bit.



We watched Bamboozled for yesterday's class, Spike Lee's film about an African American television producer who, under pressure to stop advancing "Cosby-show" like programming that depicts middle-class blacks, pitches the idea of a New Minstrel Show. Initially he does this with the intention of getting fired (he has a contract with the studio that would make quitting unpleasant); however, to his initial dismay, the show is a hit. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bamboozled -- a good synopsis and overview here.



In terms of the Be/Do conundrum, the main character, Pierre, is a black character living a white life - -satirically so, in fact. When a lawyer observes that the Minstrel Show "can't be racist, because it's written by a black person," his assistant notes that Pierre may be a Negro, but he isn't black.

In the class, most students have settled into the posture that race is socially constructed, not biological. The way you are classified is contingent upon changing circumstances. However, that doesn't stop some/many of them from believing that people are inevitably categorized by physical characteristics. So, for them, Pierre IS black, regardless of his behavior, because other people see him that way. His choice, inasmuch as he has one, is to behave the way other people expect him to or not; his blackness is something that pre-exists, and despite the fact that what it means to be black is a changeable thing, his blackness is not something about which he has a choice. Which, come to think on it, is a fairly nuanced position to take.

Sexuality is much, much, MUCH trickier for the class. They are almost all down with the concept of manliness/womanliness as socially contingent constructs, in the same way that race is understood to be socially contingent. What it means to be a man or a woman is something that is not fixed. They do, however, take the same tack in regards to the essential nature of sexuality -- one is EITHER a man or a woman, and that is not something about which one has any choice -- it is entirely determined by (as our friend T-rex might say) the persuasion of one's naughty bits.


Now, that's a pretty straightforward position to take; sex = biology. They have blurred the lines, however, by recognizing that ones biological sex does not have anything to do with the way one behaves, to the extent that behavior is something one can choose -- they put the "performance" of sexuality under the heading "gender." So, what one sees, in terms of other people, is their gender -- they appear to be a man or a woman, due to the way that they perform their identity. However, this May or May Not be the "truth" -- truth, in this case, being related to their actual naughty bits.


So, I think the big discussion for the end of the semester has to do with how the idea of a pre-discursive truth like biology influences social behavior. What are the consequences of a person who chooses to perform an "untrue" identity? The white person who performs blackness or the male person who performs womanness or the gay person who performs straightness (though we haven't really dug satisfactorily into sexual behavior as pre/post discursive, another thing to try to nail down (like jello on a wall) before the semester ends) is, under the parameters that most of the students have accepted, fundamentally lying -- is that cool? I think the most interesting answer might be that, yes, its cool, everyone lies about things all the time, what's the big deal? Because if that's the case, then . . . what is the function of "truth?"


Truth is beauty, yes, I know. Thanks for jumping in there, Plato.


The semester has really been an interesting one, and I think the students have really gotten a lot out of the class. I know I have!


Ran 10.5 miles in the miserable cold rain on Sunday; 1H 30 mins +/-; functionally just under 9:30 min/miles. Yesterday 50 mins on the treadmill. My ankles are hella sore. Too many years not plie-ing enough during jumps; I can't say I wasn't warned. Bend those knees and ankles, kids who are jumping!

Track workouts in VA are overrated

So, after the 10K sunday, took monday off, then ran 45 minutes down 16th street, (23 out, 22 back). That works out to be about 4.8 miles. Yesterday, took the Metro to VA where I ran a track workout -- 5x400, 4 mins per (8 min miles) with 200 easy jog between. 1 mile warmup/cooldown, 5 miles net.

So, this track is in VA, right? 45 minutes to get there, 90 minutes home, and I functionally ran by myself. B was insistant that this was a good thing to go to, there are a lot of people there, blah blah blah. Did I mention that it was 30 friggin degrees yesterday? Hence the title of the post -- going all the way to VA to do this run was no way shape or form worth the trouble. There's a perfectly good track ten minutes from B and I, and if we're going to do the work, why don't we go there?

There is a weekly poker game not too far from the track. They were playing texas holdem, and B was going. But I have one firm rule for cards -- don't play if you can't afford to lose. So, I said thanks, got back on the metro, and headed home to M, cranky because I had been gone for 4 hours and she was having a bad thyroid day. B did well though, finished up two bills; but that is kinda my point -- I couldn't have afforded to lose those two bills, and that's what playing at this game means -- you have to be willing to put more than a bill on the table to not be pushed around by big stacks, and you may just have a night where you have second-best hands. So, I am grumpy - I would have liked to go.

Family is coming to town today -- My dad gets into Dulles at 3:30. Proximal cause is the funeral of his brother-in-law, from the side of the family that I haven't been much in touch with in the last 20 years. There have been series of bad-blood-inducing incidents in that branch of mi famiglia, and so despite the fact that a cousin of mine lives in the metro area, and has a kid 2 months older than J, I've not gotten in contact. Which should make for an interesting weekend, no?

My uncle was a major general in the army, and is being buried with full honors at Arlington. We decided that J should go to this event; J was unsure, and thought that perhaps he could just visit the grave with flowers at a later date. I had a troubling experience at the first funeral I attended as a child -- I couldn't understand why people at the wake were not solemn and mourning -- and I hope to help J through the experience. He's a pretty emotional young man, so we will see how it goes.

There has been some interesting academic manouevering as well -- I think I am getting re-assigned for my TA hours next semester because of some ill-thought-out decisions made last year. Not a big deal, but I didn't do the best I could have done in working the situation at the management level. A good, low-stakes place to learn the lesson that its all political, and you have to keep your eye on the ball. Functionally it won't mean much different, but I wish I had displayed a bit more savvy in the gamesmanship. I tend to idealize the environments where I work as being free of that kind of happy horsehocky; no more of that!

Probably out of touch until the weekend. I will have some stuff to write about that isn't mere reportage, I think. Value added anticipated!

Two weeks? Where has the time gone?

Well, its gone several places, and its luggage went to a few others, but now time (Tie-muh) and its many-legged luggage are reunited and ready to get back to the illusion that existence is sequencial.

Me? I've been to Boston, for a professional conference. It went well, thank you, but I was sick the whole dang time I was there. That kind of miserable, hacking cough that doesn't produce any phlegm. Sucked to be me. The weather was from bad to miserable to nice, finally. The cold knocked me down for the better part of a week, actually, and I didn't get back to running until Monday.

This week has seen the following:
Monday: 1/2 mile easy, still sick.
Tuesday: 40 minute run in Sligo Creek Park. A wind-ey 4.5 miles.
Wednesday: Hard run: 2 minutes at 8 min/mile, 1 min at 10 min/mile. 8 repeats. Ends up being about 2.7 miles in 23 minutes. 8 minute miles is my goal for the race next week (on which more in a moment).
Thursday: 30 minutes easy, 3.2 miles.
Today: 40 minutes easy, 4.4 miles.

The plan for the weekend is a long run of 70 minutes, slightly slower than race pace, but at least 7 miles. But, it may well be raining hard tomorrow, so I may push that to Sunday, as I would like to do it outside.

I've been running with B on a regular basis, and its been a good thing for me -- he clearly wants to run faster than I do. I think it might be a good thing for him, as well, as he isn't in shape to run as fast as he wants to run. As he says, "the older I get, the faster I was." He wants to race like he is still 20. However, on our treadmill running sessions, his easy pace is faster than my race pace. So, THE PLAN today is to run him down by dragging him down to my level, and then clubbing him like a baby seal when we get close enough to the finish line.

I say THE PLAN because I was watching Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog with J last night. Much of that is appropriate for J -- in fact, a lot of the humor is right up his alley. BUT, some of it is too grown up for him. At the end of Act II I stopped the show, and told him that it had a sad ending, and that he probably wouldn't like it. He asked some questions about it, and agreed that he didn't want to watch. But he loved the Evil League of Evil, and Bad Horse, and the way that Dr. Horrible got beat up by Captain Hammer. "Captain Hammer threw a car at my head." Heh. The thing that I found really interesting was that he didn't mind the musical format at all -- it didn't even phase him. I guess that comes from the way that lots of kids shows work music into the narrative. If you haven't checked it out, and you have a sense of humor (most of you do) then you owe it to yourself to get it -- I got it off of Itunes, its really quite awesome.

The dissertation (hi mom!) is coming along, with Chapter two taking shape. Not a lot of words on the page yet, but the materials I want to include are becoming known to me. It may be the hardest chapter of them all, actually, because what I want to convince people of is stuff that I can only really speculate about. Oh, I can point to the things people wrote, and the dance manuals and what have you are pretty clear about the way people were expected to behave, but one of the things of which I am convinced is that the historical record doesn't begin to tell the full story. So, I have to infer -- rules and regulations that prohibit or proscribe behavior indicate that the behavior was a problem, therefore it was going on, kinda thing. Its evidence through absence, and while it is fairly well established and accepted methedologically (in my field) its not tremendously straightforward.

Next weekend is the 10k race in annapolis. A shortish drive away, B and I expect to be there and back before noon. I am, as I was with the triathlon this spring, somewhat nonplussed. I don't know what to expect, and I don't have any reason to be nervous, but I kind of feel it ought to be expected - nerves. Its a RACE, after all, but one with no stakes -- there's no way I am winning my age group, so mostly I am paying a (small) fee to have somoene time me run 10k (No, mom, I won't just send the money to you and use a stopwatch. Your point is taken, however). I guess formal races and whatnot are a step towards qualifying to run marathons, which I intend to do in the spring. Also, there is the question of just how fast am I? As I said in my last post, I don't know. We will find out!

M has been undergoing some acupuncture for her thyroid problems, and seems (for the moment) pleased with the results. Her energy is up, and she appriciates the attention to detail and willingness to discuss the theory of the treatment that she gets with this doctor. I get the impression that one of the things she most dislikes about western medical institutions is the way patients are treated like unwanted customers, necessary perhaps but frankly getting in the way of the real work. Much the same way some academic institutions treat undergraduates, come to think on it . . .

No word on the job front. I did get a nibble on an article, which would be nice. Thats all for now -- peace out.

A Long Week

First things first:

Ran 3.4 miles in 25 mins on Tuesday, on the treadmill with B. Started at 8:00/mi, and held that for 15 mins, then upped it to 7:30 for 8 mins, then ran the last 90 seconds at 6:39. So that was good -- I haven't tried to run that fast for that kind of distance before, and while I was puffing by the end, I wasn't completely shot.

Yesterday B and I met at the track behind my house at dusk, and ran about 4 miles, doing interval work -- warm up for 2400, something he calls "curves and straightaways" for 800, then 4x600 -- my times were 1:47, 2:05, 2:02, and 2:07 -- with ~50 seconds rest (I was hate hate hating life after 1 and 3, when I was kicking it hard at the end), and cool down for 1600. Short of it is, I am getting fast enough to run with B outside, for 25 mins or so, which was a problem last year when training.

Today, ran an easy 25 mins on 8.30; 3.2 mi. Plan was to do a long run tomorrow, but I forgot that J has the day of from school, so may have to figure something else out there.

B and I were talking about Bloody-mindedness; I accuse him of it regularly, he says "you shoulda seen me when." What I kind of mean is that he knows what pace he has been able to hold in the past, and he Will Hold That Pace, regardless of the price he pays later. I mean, he's been out of training for 3 months, he shouldn't be able to run that fast -- but not only can he, he makes it look easy - because he KNOWS that he can. I am still figuring out what kind of pace I can hold, over what distance. When I've been running for 20 years like B, perhaps I will have that same kind of intuition.

In Other News. This last weekend was a local diplomacy tournament, which I helped run. It was a well run event, with 50+ individual players who travelled from all over America (and one Canadian). Because of some earlier drama (which I will spare you) the first place prize was not awarded; I was at the center of that drama, and all I will say for the record is that sometimes doing the right thing feels really good.

At the event were several of the best people I know - people I really treasure and cherish in my life -- and the only downside to that is that several of them don't get along with each other. The event ended badly when two people went at it hammer and tongs; although most people had gone home allready, it was pretty embarrassing. For the moment I am keeping the situation at arms length and hoping that tempers will cool, good sense prevail - but despite some early rallies it looks like the stock of that option is going into the tank.

In Still Other News, I am working on a paper about the Castles for a conference, and, while looking through some images I scanned while doing research at the Billy Rose collection of the NYPL, I found the perfect one for my topic. So --I hope to have that knocked out today, and with some finesse, it should find itself into my dissertation as well.

Training log

B and I rode out of Rock Creek Park today, logged about 28 miles, give or take. Beautiful day for a ride. I'm sore as hell, but that's to be expected after a month+ off the bike.