Please note semi-intentional 13th & 31st symmetry this month. With my model gone (re: photo 239), September promises to be the most difficult of all the 365 project. Full month by month view is here, or on flickr here.
Suffice to say I’m alive and safe. Highlights of my far too brief trip to the East Coast-
We’re just going to skip the sunday mileage update for this week. Instead I’m gonna look at Where’s My Poppa? some more.
Fuzz and I did our last joint SF run this morning, through the park, by the beach, up and around Land’s End. It occurs to me that we’re right at one month post-marathon, and somehow I’ve taken a few giant steps backwards in that time. I’m running like I have a giant anchor around my neck. I would have thought cutting the miles back like I’ve done would give more spring in step, more go but this hasn’t been the case.
BAA registration is closed. That was my backup plan for fixing the situation. Maybe I need something like the Bradbury Bruiser for my birthday. Or the Harwich Cranberry Harvesters Half. YJP and VC have their forthcoming triathalon to look forward to, I’ve got… what, exactly? Anyone down for something?
From my mother, re: baby nieces.
Earlier today I was finalizing the logistics for the weekend travel plans for myself and my next of kin and it occurred to me that instead of making up lists about what I wanted to do I really should spend the week doing what she wants, what she would choose to do once more if she really understood the situation. The problem is I know her real passion (of late) lies in gopher hunting which is frankly the world’s boringest sport involving nothing more than extended periods of noses down holes. I have no patience for this whatsoever. So by way of compromise we went to Stow Lake tonight, home to the world’s highest concentration of nut gobblers. She was in friggin spazoid heaven.
Now, later tonight, I’m cleaning off the DVR, watching Michael Vick justify himself on 60 Minutes. The interview with the indignant James Brown generates a futile rage in me, at both Vick and the system that produced him. I shut it off to brush what’s her fuzz again, fixing her new collar tags. Her toys and food are already packed, her suspicions raised about what, exactly, is up. She’ll figure it out soon enough.
I’ve been idly working on a to do list for the greater bay area. Just stuff a person should do while they have the opportunity. Persons briefed on this idea have helpfully suggested a cheap trip to Hawaii from this coast and while I’m sympathetic to the concept this defeats the live local part of my short term goals. So far I’ve got only five items. Any suggestions?
And as long as I’m posting random videos on here rather than substantive content, here’s a trailer to a film LS is associated with. It’s on the festival circuit now, and they’re looking for investors for distribution. Making money in independent film is a long tough row to hoe. But this looks really good. The Sufjan score doesn’t hurt.
I got to work today to find I was locked out of my computer, having been (it is suspected) auto-fired by the HR computer borg. Thank you University of This Fine City in This Bankrupt State, happiest of anniversaries to you too! Phone calls were made, hoops jumped through, numerous emails sent off to folks on vacation, new job descriptions cobbled together. At the end of the day no one really is entirely sure if I have a job anymore or not, but that’s somewhat beside the point. Being generally clueless with the direction of my life I’ve found it’s generally a good idea to take these blatantly obvious foreshadowing events seriously, and between this and the extremely disheartening reports on the Boston rental market, the writing is on the wall in giant block letters that even I can read.
I took CNSMHB to my favorite place when they were visiting way back in week -2 of marathon training. The place itself is a small outcropping of land off the Coastal Train over Mile Rock Beach, roughly here. I can’t recall having been back there since, but dog and I walked down there last night since it was warm and clear and we both needed a mental diversion. The collage above is just about the widest panolab I could get to work without serious distortion in the center of the frame, but it fully cheats the location as there’s incredibly wild coastline both to the left and right. If you turn clear around to 5 o’clock you’ll find the world’s most scenic VA hospital. It’s really a 360 degree experience, worthy of a high-res rotational panorama (or DIY pseudo-equivalent). Within my experience, this small bit of land is the geography for which I am the most grateful.
Mileage: Not a good week for running. Nine miles total. I’ve either been sick and/or having mind problems. Still no fixed goals.
I’m not sure what’s weirder – that North Korea has a twitter feed or that they’re actually following more people (4800+) than are following them (4400+). Still, given lack of formal diplomatic channels between our countries how else would we know how parts 2 and 3 of cultural film night in Pyongyang went down last week?
See that, deeply impressed! Great stuff, what a captivated audience that must have been. And to think LP said all teh tweetseratti were good for nothin’.
Hope yours was similarly so. Live barking sea lions post-Sunday Streets are infinitely happier than the sad dead ones yesterday. We have a bumper crop this year, and natural selection is an emotionless bitch.
I’ve decided to continue post-scripting weekly mileage as an aid to my own flagging internal motivation.
Mileage: Dog & I both had 14 miles this week. No fixed goals at this time.
windswept in SF – pessimism on cancer trials (and bonus diss of comparative effectiveness) – here’s hoping you’re never asked to move the moon – how to stay in business – i’m reading rory stewart’s book – the debt: beyond astronomical – ohab on auto-shoveling & friendliness in STL – coupon arms race – for love of henry etta – single-line journal – pen pals with john hughes – feral houses of detroit – where should allston’s commuter rail stop go? – three minute cupcakes – uber-cute scum – can you live in a tiny trailer without being tiny trash? – DEAF, Inc
I was updating some paperwork today to add a few of my recent publications. Pubmed stalking is a nice refreshing break from the regular google google google stalk.
While doing this I realized my first publication came out friggin fourteen years ago. I don’t have access to web of science to check citations but pubmed says it’s got three cites since. That’s some crazy mad impact factor!! This publication dutifully sits on my CV and has historically served only to prompt questions at key junctures of my life from people who are required to somehow assess my merit.
The beach is a bad place to make life decisions. You get swept up in a false sense of beach euphoria. Your dog is going ape-nuts, tearing up and down the beach, crashing through sand castles and throwing down with all the little yappy dogs. Miles of open sand, big swells and hundreds of sea lions barking. It’s a false reality.
The true reality is you get home and your wet dog stinks up the house something fierce and leaves patches of sand everywhere as she dries. And just forget about the car, the cleanliness of which is a lost cause.
It’s almost late enough that I can just get up for the day, having pretended to have slept normally.
Lots of unwanted stuff floating around my head tonight. Past, future, success, failure, restarts, rehash, options, restrictions, career, family, furloughs, freedom of choice & fate. Introspection, it seems, can only be avoided so long before it builds up and overflows all at once, promising a day forthcoming to be spent both bedraggled and edgily caffeinated.
I’ve never been much of one for rational planning, starting now seems hopelessly revisionist.