Last weekend was the MS150, which, for those of you who might be wondering whether that is some sort of giant strawberry festival, is a 2-day bike ride to raise funds for Multiple Sclerosis advocacy, programs, and research.
This year we decided 75 miles a day was for babies. The route is nice and flat, but since it's near the coast, there's usually some wind to contend withand this year was no exception. With hurricane Ophelia brewing just to the East, we had bands of 20-30mph winds that blew into or across our route most of the time. Luckily, there are so many people on the ride that we usually had someone in front of us to act as a windshield!
Day 1 we finished the 100-mile ride in a little over 5 hours, at an average speed of 18.7mph. Three stops: mile 38, mile 50, and mile 78. We both felt great pretty much the whole time. And we met some really fun people. Whose names I promptly forgot. And Boy, howdy was it ever windy. I felt my bike being swooshed all over the road at times, and really worried that I'd be blown right over.
Day 2 we had an announcement from the Local Weather Guy (LWG). LWG told us that because the hurricane was getting closer, the wind would be even worse than on Day 1, and there was a possibility of some really severe weather. As a result, they were going to need extra volunteers available to drive SAG wagons in case riders were being blown off their bikes and stuff. So they cancelled the century loop on Day 2. (!!!) There was nothing for it. We rode the 75 mile route instead. I think day 2 was much harder than day 1, and not just because of the 100 miles we'd already put on our legs. We felt really pretty strong in the morning, and skipped the first 2 rest stops. Which was a mistake, because almost everyone stops at the 1st or 2nd rest stop, even if it's just to use the portajon, so the only people on the road in front of us (or right behind us) were the Serious hammerheads going 25mph into the wind. So in spite of our best efforts to hang on with the big kids, we rode alone for the next 15 miles, until we reached stop #3, the lunch stop. There we grouped up with some of SNG's office buddies and got some protection from the (by now Howling) headwind. The group stopped briefly at mile 55, but SNG and I just wanted to KEEP GOING! The skies were getting darker and darker, and I really hate riding in the rain. We finally finished, averaged 18mph, in just over 4 hours. And no rain.
We made it to the finish in time to eat our weight in BBQ and fixins before heading back to the in-laws' to shower, eat some more, pick up the dog, drive back home, and eat some more.
The whole weekend we slept like rocks! Which is saying something, since I tend to get nervous insomnia before any kind of big event. I guess since this isn't competitive, there's less to worry about. And we ate! Oh did we eat. Friday evening SNG's folks made a birthday dinner and Blueberry-peach pie! Oh, yeah! And Saturday evening we had as many brownies as we had plates of pasta-chicken-vegetables-salad. And I mentioned the Sunday BBQ business...
Now that we've finished our longest rides of the year, SNG and I will need to get out of the habit of measuring our dinner portions with a shovel, and go back to using kitchen utensils like everyone else. And sweetheart, your daily ice cream ritual? needs to go on wintertime hiatus. *sigh*
A side note: I had a masssage on Saturday from a guy who claims to hold the world record on longest running chair massages-- 52 hours. Can you imagine? He gave me a table massage, and at the end did this funny thing where he grabbed my ankles and shake-a shake-a shake-a shook me all around until everything was all loosie-goosie. Try it with a friend- it's a pretty cool feeling. He didn't do as good a job on my shoulder as Lal, my regular massage dude, but the shake-a shake-a business was fun.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Friday, September 9, 2005
"Dites- Que fait ton ami?"
OK, it's time to talk about something else. The email blizzard burying my Inbox from the non-Gulf-Coast contigent of my family gets uglier by the day. It's turning into a darned flame-war! The problem is that you simply can't be a moderate in my family. If you have a view, it has to be FIRMLY and FIERCELY held, with no wiggle-room for any competing perspectives.
And if you ask me, exactly half of them are RIGHT and the other half are WRONG (I am still, after all, a member of said family and no exception to these attitudinal parameters). :-)
But that's beside the point. The point is that I don't want to talk about the GC right now.
So I'm changing the subject. In my Pimsleur Speak and Reach Essential French 3, they teach you how to quickly change the subject in conversation. They say that if you start a sentence with "Dites!" (which translates to "Say!") that this is a "polite way to change the subject." It's funny to formalize something like that in a language lesson, but a useful thing to know. Val will have to tell me whether this is the best way to politely change the subject or whether I should try something else (perhaps something equivalent to "Soooooo, anywaaaaaaay....").
Dites! Our cafeteria at work makes the only tuna salad that I can stand to eat anymore. I'm not sure when or why, but at some point I stopped liking tuna. Fresh or canned. But the SASeteria has a recipe that transcends tuna. I don't know what's in it. Maybe it's full-fat mayo? Yeah, that's probably it.
In other news, the MS150 is this weekend. Or, as we've taken to calling it, the MS200. Weather permitting, we're going to attempt the double-century (100 miles Sat and 100 miles Sun). Saturday is also my birthday. Since biking 100 miles is kind of a crappy way to spend your birthday, I get to have a rain-delay birthday. Also, since I'm giving up my real birthday to ride 100 miles, I get 2 rain-days to make up for it. SNG doesn't know that yet, but he will as soon as he reads this.
Last year we started a tradition with friends where birthday outings are celebrated with "fake-sport-and-food." Real food, not fake food. We've done bowling, billiards, lazer-tag, miniature golf, skee-ball, I can't remember what else. Food has mostly been pizza, with some BBQ, some gelatto, some other random stuff. This year I want Ice Dancing as my fake sport. I have to be careful calling this a fake sport- my mom used to be an ice dancer, but it's not as sporty as figure skating or speedskating. (Thank goodness she wasn't a synchronized swimmer- then I'd have all kinds of eggshells to tread) I think we should all dress in period outfits from a decade with great music and go to the ice rink and ice dance! Food will be sushi. It just seems appropriate for ice dancing somehow. Of course, not everyone eats sushi, so it's an "Ice Dancing and Sushi or something else from Whole Foods' deli case" party. Um, and since not everyone dances, it's OK to put on skates and slip-slide around on the rink as long as you wiggle your tooshie as if you're trying to dance. Or at least look cool hanging out by a pinball machine.
The best part is I have a whole mess of free passes to the ice rink. They might be the B.O.G.O. kind, but that's at least 1/2 price.
Consider yourself invited-- shoot me an email and I'll give you the details.
OK, it's time to talk about something else. The email blizzard burying my Inbox from the non-Gulf-Coast contigent of my family gets uglier by the day. It's turning into a darned flame-war! The problem is that you simply can't be a moderate in my family. If you have a view, it has to be FIRMLY and FIERCELY held, with no wiggle-room for any competing perspectives.
And if you ask me, exactly half of them are RIGHT and the other half are WRONG (I am still, after all, a member of said family and no exception to these attitudinal parameters). :-)
But that's beside the point. The point is that I don't want to talk about the GC right now.
So I'm changing the subject. In my Pimsleur Speak and Reach Essential French 3, they teach you how to quickly change the subject in conversation. They say that if you start a sentence with "Dites!" (which translates to "Say!") that this is a "polite way to change the subject." It's funny to formalize something like that in a language lesson, but a useful thing to know. Val will have to tell me whether this is the best way to politely change the subject or whether I should try something else (perhaps something equivalent to "Soooooo, anywaaaaaaay....").
Dites! Our cafeteria at work makes the only tuna salad that I can stand to eat anymore. I'm not sure when or why, but at some point I stopped liking tuna. Fresh or canned. But the SASeteria has a recipe that transcends tuna. I don't know what's in it. Maybe it's full-fat mayo? Yeah, that's probably it.
In other news, the MS150 is this weekend. Or, as we've taken to calling it, the MS200. Weather permitting, we're going to attempt the double-century (100 miles Sat and 100 miles Sun). Saturday is also my birthday. Since biking 100 miles is kind of a crappy way to spend your birthday, I get to have a rain-delay birthday. Also, since I'm giving up my real birthday to ride 100 miles, I get 2 rain-days to make up for it. SNG doesn't know that yet, but he will as soon as he reads this.
Last year we started a tradition with friends where birthday outings are celebrated with "fake-sport-and-food." Real food, not fake food. We've done bowling, billiards, lazer-tag, miniature golf, skee-ball, I can't remember what else. Food has mostly been pizza, with some BBQ, some gelatto, some other random stuff. This year I want Ice Dancing as my fake sport. I have to be careful calling this a fake sport- my mom used to be an ice dancer, but it's not as sporty as figure skating or speedskating. (Thank goodness she wasn't a synchronized swimmer- then I'd have all kinds of eggshells to tread) I think we should all dress in period outfits from a decade with great music and go to the ice rink and ice dance! Food will be sushi. It just seems appropriate for ice dancing somehow. Of course, not everyone eats sushi, so it's an "Ice Dancing and Sushi or something else from Whole Foods' deli case" party. Um, and since not everyone dances, it's OK to put on skates and slip-slide around on the rink as long as you wiggle your tooshie as if you're trying to dance. Or at least look cool hanging out by a pinball machine.
The best part is I have a whole mess of free passes to the ice rink. They might be the B.O.G.O. kind, but that's at least 1/2 price.
Consider yourself invited-- shoot me an email and I'll give you the details.
Friday, September 2, 2005
But On A Lighter Note:
(lifted from the St Petersburg Times Q&A)
Is there going to be a shortage of Tabasco sauce, too, since it comes from southern Louisiana?
Apparently not. The McIlhenny Co., makers of Tabasco, has its headquarters on Avery Island, La., west of New Orleans. The company reports that Hurricane Katrina took out its Web site but not its operations and there will be no interruption in the processing of the hot stuff.
Whew! There will be no interruption to my daily omelette-soaked-in-pepper-sauce ritual.
(lifted from the St Petersburg Times Q&A)
Is there going to be a shortage of Tabasco sauce, too, since it comes from southern Louisiana?
Apparently not. The McIlhenny Co., makers of Tabasco, has its headquarters on Avery Island, La., west of New Orleans. The company reports that Hurricane Katrina took out its Web site but not its operations and there will be no interruption in the processing of the hot stuff.
Whew! There will be no interruption to my daily omelette-soaked-in-pepper-sauce ritual.
I know I just posted a plea for donations to relief agencies-- but it bears repeating. If you haven't done it yet, please consider donating to one of the relief agencies working to
- evacuate the city
- rescue pets and other animals
- clean the toxins and poisons that will likely disrupt the ecosystem in ways we can only begin to imagine
- search for the dead in homes, under debris, in the streets
- find places to relocate the million-or-so people who are suddenly homeless (think about that for a minute)
- bring food, water, clothes, schoolbooks, and other supplies to proud people who are now, by no fault of their own, begging for help and counting on the mercy of people who are geographically more fortunate
- (eventually) clear away the old destryed buildings and rebuild a city that will be more resistant to weather catastrophes in the future
- care for the sick and injured
Remember, everyone from New Orleans-- not just the people who stayed behind-- is homeless and facing an uncertain future. New Orleans is one of the poorest cities in the country, and most of the people who stayed did so because they had no way to leave, and if they could have left, had no place to go. The small number of idiots who are looting TVs and causing violence are FAR outnumbered by people who are scavenging for food, water, and dry clothes, for medicine and first aid supplies, for dry land. They may be poor but they are proud and small sacrifices on all of our parts will add up to a large helping hand for many people.
So please, if you haven't already done so, give what you can plus a little bit more. If you don't have money, donate some water. Donate tools or workgloves or blankets or clothes thatyou won't need.
You can find a list of charitable agencies here and here.
- evacuate the city
- rescue pets and other animals
- clean the toxins and poisons that will likely disrupt the ecosystem in ways we can only begin to imagine
- search for the dead in homes, under debris, in the streets
- find places to relocate the million-or-so people who are suddenly homeless (think about that for a minute)
- bring food, water, clothes, schoolbooks, and other supplies to proud people who are now, by no fault of their own, begging for help and counting on the mercy of people who are geographically more fortunate
- (eventually) clear away the old destryed buildings and rebuild a city that will be more resistant to weather catastrophes in the future
- care for the sick and injured
Remember, everyone from New Orleans-- not just the people who stayed behind-- is homeless and facing an uncertain future. New Orleans is one of the poorest cities in the country, and most of the people who stayed did so because they had no way to leave, and if they could have left, had no place to go. The small number of idiots who are looting TVs and causing violence are FAR outnumbered by people who are scavenging for food, water, and dry clothes, for medicine and first aid supplies, for dry land. They may be poor but they are proud and small sacrifices on all of our parts will add up to a large helping hand for many people.
So please, if you haven't already done so, give what you can plus a little bit more. If you don't have money, donate some water. Donate tools or workgloves or blankets or clothes thatyou won't need.
You can find a list of charitable agencies here and here.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Really Long Rehash of This Weekend's Triathlon... you've been warned.
Saturday was the Endurance Challenge sprint triathlon. I have posted some pictures along with running narrative here. View the slideshow to see the captions.
This was my first race in reasonably warm water and in a pool. And since the swim has cost me SO much time on other races, I had high hopes that the pool would make everything better. And to make it even better, I had a cheering SQUAD this time instead of a cheering GUY (but I really love my cheering guy-- SNG, you're the best cheerleader EVAH!). Our friend Marc showed up to watch the race (I think he was most interested in all the super-fit women in swimsuits, but he's way too polite to admit that to me). That was more motivating than I had expected it to be. SNG's boss was there, too. He's an Ironman triathlete, so that lent a little bit of gravity to the race. Um, I think he finished the race before I even got into the pool...
I made the mistake of seeding myself in a slower swim class than I should have, and spent most of the swim trying (unsuccussfully) to pass people. Funny, I didn't think anyone was a slower swimmer than me. Well, there was that one guy who died in the lake last time...he was pretty slow. Anyway, I lost a few minutes there. I'll know better next time. Finished the 500M swim in 13:49, 94th out of 110 overall. I know I could have done it in 11 minutes without the no-passing issues.
(apologies for the gallows humor, but if that kind of thing bothers you, then you probably found this blog by accident)
It was really fun and invigorating to be able to swim properly, since the last 2 races (in cold open water) I had to make do with either backstroke or a wierd hybrid dogpaddle-breaststroke thing in a miserably tight wetsuit. And since there was no wetsuit this time (and since my start time was around dinnertime), I was also able to warm up properly before the race. I am sure that it helped.
The only complaint I have about the bike was that they added the first transition time to the bike time. Grr. I am a slow transitioner. Nonetheless, my bike time was 11th overall and 3rd in my age group. It was a 16-mile route with continuous hills, averaged about 19.5mph, and the bike computer said 48 minutes (not including transition time). On the entire ride, only one person passed me. He was kitted out in full TT regalia, complete with $5000 racing bike and foil helmet. I passed a few dozen people on everything from racing bikes to mountain bikes, some in tennis shoes with toeclips and t-shirts. But I'll take my downward social comparison wherever I can get it, dabnabbit!
The 5K run course was gently hilly (nothing steep) and took two figure-8 loops around the sportsplex. My time was not as good as I'd hoped: 31 minutes, but my goal is 30 minutes so it was close. There's no way to finesse it: I run slowly. It's OK, the run is kind of a recovery from the bike. If a tiger were chasing me, I'd probably have run a little bit faster.
Since the bike is the only part of a triathlon that is at all ego-tied, I was really happy with the race. It was lots of fun, and sprint distance is definitely the way to go. It just feels like a fantastic workout. Any longer and it starts to feel like work...
Saturday was the Endurance Challenge sprint triathlon. I have posted some pictures along with running narrative here. View the slideshow to see the captions.
This was my first race in reasonably warm water and in a pool. And since the swim has cost me SO much time on other races, I had high hopes that the pool would make everything better. And to make it even better, I had a cheering SQUAD this time instead of a cheering GUY (but I really love my cheering guy-- SNG, you're the best cheerleader EVAH!). Our friend Marc showed up to watch the race (I think he was most interested in all the super-fit women in swimsuits, but he's way too polite to admit that to me). That was more motivating than I had expected it to be. SNG's boss was there, too. He's an Ironman triathlete, so that lent a little bit of gravity to the race. Um, I think he finished the race before I even got into the pool...
I made the mistake of seeding myself in a slower swim class than I should have, and spent most of the swim trying (unsuccussfully) to pass people. Funny, I didn't think anyone was a slower swimmer than me. Well, there was that one guy who died in the lake last time...he was pretty slow. Anyway, I lost a few minutes there. I'll know better next time. Finished the 500M swim in 13:49, 94th out of 110 overall. I know I could have done it in 11 minutes without the no-passing issues.
(apologies for the gallows humor, but if that kind of thing bothers you, then you probably found this blog by accident)
It was really fun and invigorating to be able to swim properly, since the last 2 races (in cold open water) I had to make do with either backstroke or a wierd hybrid dogpaddle-breaststroke thing in a miserably tight wetsuit. And since there was no wetsuit this time (and since my start time was around dinnertime), I was also able to warm up properly before the race. I am sure that it helped.
The only complaint I have about the bike was that they added the first transition time to the bike time. Grr. I am a slow transitioner. Nonetheless, my bike time was 11th overall and 3rd in my age group. It was a 16-mile route with continuous hills, averaged about 19.5mph, and the bike computer said 48 minutes (not including transition time). On the entire ride, only one person passed me. He was kitted out in full TT regalia, complete with $5000 racing bike and foil helmet. I passed a few dozen people on everything from racing bikes to mountain bikes, some in tennis shoes with toeclips and t-shirts. But I'll take my downward social comparison wherever I can get it, dabnabbit!
The 5K run course was gently hilly (nothing steep) and took two figure-8 loops around the sportsplex. My time was not as good as I'd hoped: 31 minutes, but my goal is 30 minutes so it was close. There's no way to finesse it: I run slowly. It's OK, the run is kind of a recovery from the bike. If a tiger were chasing me, I'd probably have run a little bit faster.
Since the bike is the only part of a triathlon that is at all ego-tied, I was really happy with the race. It was lots of fun, and sprint distance is definitely the way to go. It just feels like a fantastic workout. Any longer and it starts to feel like work...
With about 80% of New Orleans underwater, I'm sure that the homes of most of my friends and family, and even the house I grew up in, are under water right now. My brother's high school best friend and his mother are trapped in the 2nd floor of a neighbor's house with their own 1-story house flooded. Here's an aerial photo of my aunt/uncle/cousins' neighborhood from this morning. The orange thing on the top right corner? That's the local Home Depot.
As of now, people who evacuated have no idea what they're going to return to. And a lot of people couldn't evacuate. When this kind of disasters happens to a place with so much poverty, it seems somehow unfair.
Anyway, the red cross and other aid agencies have asked for cash donations so that they can give residents vouchers for repair and rebuilding efforts. Most of these people do not have insurance. If you can help, please do so.
As of now, people who evacuated have no idea what they're going to return to. And a lot of people couldn't evacuate. When this kind of disasters happens to a place with so much poverty, it seems somehow unfair.
Anyway, the red cross and other aid agencies have asked for cash donations so that they can give residents vouchers for repair and rebuilding efforts. Most of these people do not have insurance. If you can help, please do so.
A New Blogging Mode
OK, I’m trying something different this time… Blogger has a new thing where you can write and post your blog from MS Word, which is perfect for me since (as we’ve discussed in the past) I’m an HTML spaz, but I’m a Word whiz. I use a hybrid version of word-powerpoint for all the courses I write, so I even have a bunch of quickie keyboard shortcuts set up.
Don’t laugh at me. I know that all the cool geeks use anything but Word unless they’ve been forced to, especially for web publishing. It’s kind of like someone telling me that they use Excel for statistics (Bah! What a silly thing to do! Only a real loser would do that! Hahahahahahaha!) But seriously? I know how to use word. I can even write out really cool formulas in Word. Check it out:
(image placeholder)
That’s the observed-data likelihood of Y under the MAR assumption for missingness. See? Still perfectly cool geek, even if I use Word.
The best thing about it is that I can paste pictures really easily in Word, so the next post will be all about… LAST WEEK’S TRIATHLON!
Edited to add: Drat! It doesn’t support images and tables!! What’s this mess? So not only can I not post formulas, I can’t post pictures. Back to the drawing board. No more Word for Blogger.
Don’t laugh at me. I know that all the cool geeks use anything but Word unless they’ve been forced to, especially for web publishing. It’s kind of like someone telling me that they use Excel for statistics (Bah! What a silly thing to do! Only a real loser would do that! Hahahahahahaha!) But seriously? I know how to use word. I can even write out really cool formulas in Word. Check it out:
(image placeholder)
That’s the observed-data likelihood of Y under the MAR assumption for missingness. See? Still perfectly cool geek, even if I use Word.
The best thing about it is that I can paste pictures really easily in Word, so the next post will be all about… LAST WEEK’S TRIATHLON!
Edited to add: Drat! It doesn’t support images and tables!! What’s this mess? So not only can I not post formulas, I can’t post pictures. Back to the drawing board. No more Word for Blogger.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Is it Wednesday already?!
And August is almost over. I tell you, I feel like I've dodged a bullet, having spent much of the the summer traveling. Summers in Canada, Detroit, San Francisco, San Diego, and the mountains of West Virginia are quite a bit cooler than in NC. Poor SNG and Goofch. I bet they didn't spend more than 10 minutes without air-conditioning.
I think I mentioned that we have finally got our housecleaning service started up again. HOORAY! As a result, SNG got me to help with some yardwork last weekend. That's right, folks. If you had driven past my house on Sunday, you would have seen me out there broiling away raking mulch. MULCH! I know, it's crazy. Luckily, there were plenty of shady areas that needed mulch. SNG, with his olive complexion and Greek heritage, is naturally well-suited to yardwork in direct sunlight. He doesn't burn, he just ripens. Everyone knows that light-eyed and fair-skinned people have much lower sunshine tolerance and should therefore stay in shade or, even better, air-conditioning.
There's no way I would have mulched if I could have found a dirty toilet to clean instead.
And August is almost over. I tell you, I feel like I've dodged a bullet, having spent much of the the summer traveling. Summers in Canada, Detroit, San Francisco, San Diego, and the mountains of West Virginia are quite a bit cooler than in NC. Poor SNG and Goofch. I bet they didn't spend more than 10 minutes without air-conditioning.
I think I mentioned that we have finally got our housecleaning service started up again. HOORAY! As a result, SNG got me to help with some yardwork last weekend. That's right, folks. If you had driven past my house on Sunday, you would have seen me out there broiling away raking mulch. MULCH! I know, it's crazy. Luckily, there were plenty of shady areas that needed mulch. SNG, with his olive complexion and Greek heritage, is naturally well-suited to yardwork in direct sunlight. He doesn't burn, he just ripens. Everyone knows that light-eyed and fair-skinned people have much lower sunshine tolerance and should therefore stay in shade or, even better, air-conditioning.
There's no way I would have mulched if I could have found a dirty toilet to clean instead.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Yay! Released from government quarantine!
I spent the past week teaching statisticians at the headquarters of a federal agency that specializes in catching bad guys in rural West Virginia. Before I went, they had to do a full background check in order to give me permission to even drive onto the quarantined compound. Evidently, international meat smuggling is not a sufficiently heinous offense to prevent access to the neural center of crime intelligence for the federal, state, and local governments.
Even after my high-security clearance, I had to have an escort to go *anywhere*. Even the restroom. Luckily, they let me close the stall door (smirk). I wasn't allowed to open most of the doors we went through. That was kind of wierd. But the people were super-super nice, and I felt quite welcome, in spite of the deadly serious secruity guards with guns all over the place. BTW, don't try to joke with those people. They have no more sense of humor than the ones at the airport.
I haven't updated the blog in awhile because I couldn't plug my laptop into anything except the Epson. My hotel came with free high speed internet access, but "yeah, we used to have a cable for every room and then people starting taking them so we don't have them anymore." Uhhhhh-huh. So I finally found a radio shack and bought my own ethernet cable, but by then there were several hundred emails to wander through...
Anyway, so that's where I've been.
The last 2 pieces of news: dog, and a triathlon. Well, both are no-go. I skipped the tri weekend before last because I realized that it starts at 7am, which means having to be at the race site *before* 6am to register and get marked. And it was a 3 1/2 hour drive from home, and SNG & I didn't feel up to the drive on Friday night. But we did get to the Tori Amos concert that night, which was AWESOME. SO good. I had 2 little complaints. There were 2 opening bands, and they started late. "Concert starts at 7, doors at 6" shouldn't mean "the first opening band will wander unceremoniously onto the stage around 8:00." Also, in true Cary, NC style.... no one was allowed to stand up during the music. Now this was bizarre. Suppose you're sitting there, and your favorite Tori song comes on. You might want to stand up and dance, right? I mean, that's one of the traditional concert activities, along with puking on the way to the bathroom, sneaking photographs and smoking where you aren't supposed to smoke. Um, no. In fact, none of these customs were tolerated at the concert. Anytime someone tried, they were promptly ejected from the show. But Tori was fabulous, as was one of the opening bands, a 3-girl band (yes, they were girls, I can't rightly call them women, sorry) called The Like. When their CD comes out I will buy it.
What was maybe most interesting was the Tori Amos' parents were sitting across the aisle from us (they live in this area). Her dad went around before the show shaking everyone's hands and thanking them for coming out to see his girl play. He said he doesn't always understand her music, but if it makes her happy... etc. So when she sang The Beekeeper, and was looking right at them, let's just say there wasn't a dry eye in our section. And my college voice coach was right-- she is a freaking musical genius.
And the dog... yeah.... Maybe eventually. But right now, Goofch seems to be used to his "only dog" status and I like that. It's also a lot less work having one elderly dog than it is having 2 dogs, especially if one is a young dog. Goofch requires essentially no special consideration unless we leave town. You can leave him just about anywhere and he'll just sleep until you come back.
This week I'm in town, and Saturday is the next triathlon. I have no reason to chicken out of this one, so wish me luck!
I spent the past week teaching statisticians at the headquarters of a federal agency that specializes in catching bad guys in rural West Virginia. Before I went, they had to do a full background check in order to give me permission to even drive onto the quarantined compound. Evidently, international meat smuggling is not a sufficiently heinous offense to prevent access to the neural center of crime intelligence for the federal, state, and local governments.
Even after my high-security clearance, I had to have an escort to go *anywhere*. Even the restroom. Luckily, they let me close the stall door (smirk). I wasn't allowed to open most of the doors we went through. That was kind of wierd. But the people were super-super nice, and I felt quite welcome, in spite of the deadly serious secruity guards with guns all over the place. BTW, don't try to joke with those people. They have no more sense of humor than the ones at the airport.
I haven't updated the blog in awhile because I couldn't plug my laptop into anything except the Epson. My hotel came with free high speed internet access, but "yeah, we used to have a cable for every room and then people starting taking them so we don't have them anymore." Uhhhhh-huh. So I finally found a radio shack and bought my own ethernet cable, but by then there were several hundred emails to wander through...
Anyway, so that's where I've been.
The last 2 pieces of news: dog, and a triathlon. Well, both are no-go. I skipped the tri weekend before last because I realized that it starts at 7am, which means having to be at the race site *before* 6am to register and get marked. And it was a 3 1/2 hour drive from home, and SNG & I didn't feel up to the drive on Friday night. But we did get to the Tori Amos concert that night, which was AWESOME. SO good. I had 2 little complaints. There were 2 opening bands, and they started late. "Concert starts at 7, doors at 6" shouldn't mean "the first opening band will wander unceremoniously onto the stage around 8:00." Also, in true Cary, NC style.... no one was allowed to stand up during the music. Now this was bizarre. Suppose you're sitting there, and your favorite Tori song comes on. You might want to stand up and dance, right? I mean, that's one of the traditional concert activities, along with puking on the way to the bathroom, sneaking photographs and smoking where you aren't supposed to smoke. Um, no. In fact, none of these customs were tolerated at the concert. Anytime someone tried, they were promptly ejected from the show. But Tori was fabulous, as was one of the opening bands, a 3-girl band (yes, they were girls, I can't rightly call them women, sorry) called The Like. When their CD comes out I will buy it.
What was maybe most interesting was the Tori Amos' parents were sitting across the aisle from us (they live in this area). Her dad went around before the show shaking everyone's hands and thanking them for coming out to see his girl play. He said he doesn't always understand her music, but if it makes her happy... etc. So when she sang The Beekeeper, and was looking right at them, let's just say there wasn't a dry eye in our section. And my college voice coach was right-- she is a freaking musical genius.
And the dog... yeah.... Maybe eventually. But right now, Goofch seems to be used to his "only dog" status and I like that. It's also a lot less work having one elderly dog than it is having 2 dogs, especially if one is a young dog. Goofch requires essentially no special consideration unless we leave town. You can leave him just about anywhere and he'll just sleep until you come back.
This week I'm in town, and Saturday is the next triathlon. I have no reason to chicken out of this one, so wish me luck!
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Who spiked my coffee?
Yesterday Dianaverse sent me a link to the Wake county SPCA adoption center. She sent a link, specifically, to LIESL, page 4 (who's frankly a little freaky looking in the picture, but probably very cute in real life). So I went and started exploring and found JACKSON, page 1 (again, goofy picture, but probably smarter than Modean), and then SNG went and found CHLOE, page 3, and I was all, "You had me at hello."
So what is it? Maternal instincts? Here's what happened next:
I should have jogged home, but knowing that the shelter closes at 6pm, and fearing that they'd put to sleep all the cute doggies that I wanted to adopt, and a bit of threatening weather in the sky besides, I got a ride home from a friend. Then, in the middle of one of the year's roughest most horrendous rainstorms, I jumped in my car and sped down to the shelter. Along the way, I made a wrong turn because I couldn't see the streets through the deluge. I was so aggravated (it was 5:54 pm, btw) that I was screaming-- SCREAMING! -- at the steering wheel that it was the stupidest thing in the world that the animal shelter closes at 6PM! After all, don't they want the animals to be adopted by people with JOBS who can maybe afford the FOOD and VET BILLS?!! &*%$#^^*&!
I arrived at the shelter at 6:04pm. They had already locked up and left. I was so blue, imagining that all three of those poor innocent dogs had probably been put down, and all because I couldn't get there in time!
Yeah, I know. Weird. Oh, did I mention I'm PMSing right now? :-/
We're going to go look at the dogs hopefully Saturday sometime. We really don't need another dog.
Yesterday Dianaverse sent me a link to the Wake county SPCA adoption center. She sent a link, specifically, to LIESL, page 4 (who's frankly a little freaky looking in the picture, but probably very cute in real life). So I went and started exploring and found JACKSON, page 1 (again, goofy picture, but probably smarter than Modean), and then SNG went and found CHLOE, page 3, and I was all, "You had me at hello."
So what is it? Maternal instincts? Here's what happened next:
I should have jogged home, but knowing that the shelter closes at 6pm, and fearing that they'd put to sleep all the cute doggies that I wanted to adopt, and a bit of threatening weather in the sky besides, I got a ride home from a friend. Then, in the middle of one of the year's roughest most horrendous rainstorms, I jumped in my car and sped down to the shelter. Along the way, I made a wrong turn because I couldn't see the streets through the deluge. I was so aggravated (it was 5:54 pm, btw) that I was screaming-- SCREAMING! -- at the steering wheel that it was the stupidest thing in the world that the animal shelter closes at 6PM! After all, don't they want the animals to be adopted by people with JOBS who can maybe afford the FOOD and VET BILLS?!! &*%$#^^*&!
I arrived at the shelter at 6:04pm. They had already locked up and left. I was so blue, imagining that all three of those poor innocent dogs had probably been put down, and all because I couldn't get there in time!
Yeah, I know. Weird. Oh, did I mention I'm PMSing right now? :-/
We're going to go look at the dogs hopefully Saturday sometime. We really don't need another dog.
Monday, August 8, 2005
What a weekend! It's cooling off a little after another warm wave swept over us late last week. Saturday's ride was 63 miles and hot. Saturday was 27 miles and cool.
Dianaverse came home from her vacation in Marquette and retreived her dog Daisy from our care. Goofch was sad to see her leave, but he has slept continuously since Saturday at 5:00 except to get up and move to different rooms and sleep some more. I have a feeling that the whole 2 weeks together in the canine bachelor pad were spent partying, telling stories, wrestling and yodeling.
We hadn't realized the extent to which Modean really was the brains of that little organization until last week. Between the two of them, Goofch and Daisy have 1/3 brain. Case in point: One afternoon they became fixated on a free-standing piece of fence that shields the wheelbarrow from view of the house. They were diligently trying to dig out the mysterious creature on the other side of the fence.
A diagram illustrates the interchange:
STEP 1:
........................l
GOOFCH--> o. l .o <--DAISY
........................l
....................FENCE
Then, they'd run around to the other side to try and sneak up on the critter from there:
...................l
DAISY-->o. l .o <--GOOFCH
................l
................FENCE
They kept them occupied for about half an hour until SNG and I made them give up the chase and come in to eat.
OH-- in other news, SNG and I are going to ride the MS150 again this year. This time we're going to try the 200-mile route. We'll see how that goes... As always, we are raising money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, and SNG is our team captain again this year. If you're so inclined, feel free to pledge a buck or two for us online. No pressure! I'll still love you if you don't pledge. It's a good cause, and it's tax-deductible.
This is our team page. Scroll down a little to find the name of the person(s) you want to sponsor.
Dianaverse came home from her vacation in Marquette and retreived her dog Daisy from our care. Goofch was sad to see her leave, but he has slept continuously since Saturday at 5:00 except to get up and move to different rooms and sleep some more. I have a feeling that the whole 2 weeks together in the canine bachelor pad were spent partying, telling stories, wrestling and yodeling.
We hadn't realized the extent to which Modean really was the brains of that little organization until last week. Between the two of them, Goofch and Daisy have 1/3 brain. Case in point: One afternoon they became fixated on a free-standing piece of fence that shields the wheelbarrow from view of the house. They were diligently trying to dig out the mysterious creature on the other side of the fence.
A diagram illustrates the interchange:
STEP 1:
........................l
GOOFCH--> o. l .o <--DAISY
........................l
....................FENCE
Then, they'd run around to the other side to try and sneak up on the critter from there:
...................l
DAISY-->o. l .o <--GOOFCH
................l
................FENCE
They kept them occupied for about half an hour until SNG and I made them give up the chase and come in to eat.
OH-- in other news, SNG and I are going to ride the MS150 again this year. This time we're going to try the 200-mile route. We'll see how that goes... As always, we are raising money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, and SNG is our team captain again this year. If you're so inclined, feel free to pledge a buck or two for us online. No pressure! I'll still love you if you don't pledge. It's a good cause, and it's tax-deductible.
This is our team page. Scroll down a little to find the name of the person(s) you want to sponsor.
Friday, August 5, 2005
Summertime and Produce Joys
This week has apparently been harvest week for everyone at my work. The break room has had baskets of freshly-picked goodies from everyone's gardens, and I've been showing my appreciation by partaking in (more than) my share of the bounty.
Monday: Figs. Now, get this: so far, every person I've spoken to at work (except the person who brought them in) has said that they've never eaten a fresh fig, don't know how to, and were wary of trying because they don't care for Fig Newtons. GAH! FIG NEWTONS? They are not even from the same planet as fresh figs. Newtons are not cookies, they're fruit and crap. And don't give me that "oh, I've had dried figs" -- Not even close. A fresh fig is like a silky, tender little bag full of honey. There's nothing else that comes close to fresh. And it has to be perfectly ripe. Dark color, heavy for its size, and if it's a brown fig, a red (not pink) "flower" end (not to be nasty, but I'm referring to the "butt" end of the fig). And yesterday, through careful experimentation, I determined another way to determine ripeness in a fig: drop it in a glass of water. If it floats, it needs more time to ripen. If it sinks but doesn't stink, it's perfect. An overripe fig has a distinctly musty/sour smell and tastes like a fig newton.
Tuesday: Tomatoes. Although everyone is hot on heirloom tomatoes these past couple of years, these were just romas. A little salt and some parmesan & fresh herbs and it's like a pizza for someone on a diet. If you squint really hard. OK, maybe it's not. But it tastes good anyway.
Wednesday: Nothing. Must have been an off day. But Wednesday is the day they deliver the M&Ms, so I guess that's got to count for something.
Thursday: Figs again!!! Since no one else knew what to do with them, I took more than 1/48th of the basket. I figure there must have been at least 11 other people who weren't planning on having any, right?
Today: Cucumbers! One of my FAVORITES! These are those funny little pickling cucumbers that are sometimes sticky to eat, but they're always crisp and have very few seeds, so I don't mind eating them raw. Friday is also doughnut day, so going into the breakroom is sketchy. Since I ate someone else's figs, they can have my doughnut.
This week has apparently been harvest week for everyone at my work. The break room has had baskets of freshly-picked goodies from everyone's gardens, and I've been showing my appreciation by partaking in (more than) my share of the bounty.
Monday: Figs. Now, get this: so far, every person I've spoken to at work (except the person who brought them in) has said that they've never eaten a fresh fig, don't know how to, and were wary of trying because they don't care for Fig Newtons. GAH! FIG NEWTONS? They are not even from the same planet as fresh figs. Newtons are not cookies, they're fruit and crap. And don't give me that "oh, I've had dried figs" -- Not even close. A fresh fig is like a silky, tender little bag full of honey. There's nothing else that comes close to fresh. And it has to be perfectly ripe. Dark color, heavy for its size, and if it's a brown fig, a red (not pink) "flower" end (not to be nasty, but I'm referring to the "butt" end of the fig). And yesterday, through careful experimentation, I determined another way to determine ripeness in a fig: drop it in a glass of water. If it floats, it needs more time to ripen. If it sinks but doesn't stink, it's perfect. An overripe fig has a distinctly musty/sour smell and tastes like a fig newton.
Tuesday: Tomatoes. Although everyone is hot on heirloom tomatoes these past couple of years, these were just romas. A little salt and some parmesan & fresh herbs and it's like a pizza for someone on a diet. If you squint really hard. OK, maybe it's not. But it tastes good anyway.
Wednesday: Nothing. Must have been an off day. But Wednesday is the day they deliver the M&Ms, so I guess that's got to count for something.
Thursday: Figs again!!! Since no one else knew what to do with them, I took more than 1/48th of the basket. I figure there must have been at least 11 other people who weren't planning on having any, right?
Today: Cucumbers! One of my FAVORITES! These are those funny little pickling cucumbers that are sometimes sticky to eat, but they're always crisp and have very few seeds, so I don't mind eating them raw. Friday is also doughnut day, so going into the breakroom is sketchy. Since I ate someone else's figs, they can have my doughnut.
Wednesday, August 3, 2005
More Fitness-Related Stuff Ahead (You've been warned)
This is one of those stream-of-consciousness, trying to get my thoughts out into words blogs and if you skip it, you wouldn't offend me. But if you have any insights, leave me a comment!
After work last night SNG and I went to a local lake/water park with about 60 yards of distance available for open swimming. I wanted to go so I could try to learn how to open-water swim. I learned two things: leopard-print bikinis always make a person look trashy and open water isn't the problem.
Being an (arguably) good scientist, I have varied several factors to try to figure out why I can't swim in open water triathlons.
FACTORS UNDER MY CONTROL:
Wetsuit vs No Wetsuit
Pool vs Open water
FACTORS I CANNOT CONTROL:
Water tempertature
Crowded water (feet and hands and tooshies everywhere)
Race-day nerves
After experimenting with the two factors I can control, I've determined that
I can swim in a pool and open water just fine
I can swim with or without my wetsuit just fine (and the wetsuit is faster)
So the triathlon problem has to be either water temperature, which I know affects breathing because cold water causes heart rate to spike, or race-day jitters, which also causes heart rate to spike, or the crowds.
Race-day jitters should wear off after a few minutes, so I don't think that's it. And as slowly as I've had to swim in these races, the crowd is eliminated as a possible factor pretty early on in the race. I think the problem is water temperature. As long as the water stays cold, heart rate (and therefore respiration) stays elevated. I need practice swimming in cold, open water.
On the non-scientific front, the lake/water park is almost empty on an evening after work and it's just about the most fun you can have on a hot summer evening. If they have wireless internet, I'm definitely going to try to telecommute from there a few days a week. :-)
This is one of those stream-of-consciousness, trying to get my thoughts out into words blogs and if you skip it, you wouldn't offend me. But if you have any insights, leave me a comment!
After work last night SNG and I went to a local lake/water park with about 60 yards of distance available for open swimming. I wanted to go so I could try to learn how to open-water swim. I learned two things: leopard-print bikinis always make a person look trashy and open water isn't the problem.
Being an (arguably) good scientist, I have varied several factors to try to figure out why I can't swim in open water triathlons.
FACTORS UNDER MY CONTROL:
Wetsuit vs No Wetsuit
Pool vs Open water
FACTORS I CANNOT CONTROL:
Water tempertature
Crowded water (feet and hands and tooshies everywhere)
Race-day nerves
After experimenting with the two factors I can control, I've determined that
I can swim in a pool and open water just fine
I can swim with or without my wetsuit just fine (and the wetsuit is faster)
So the triathlon problem has to be either water temperature, which I know affects breathing because cold water causes heart rate to spike, or race-day jitters, which also causes heart rate to spike, or the crowds.
Race-day jitters should wear off after a few minutes, so I don't think that's it. And as slowly as I've had to swim in these races, the crowd is eliminated as a possible factor pretty early on in the race. I think the problem is water temperature. As long as the water stays cold, heart rate (and therefore respiration) stays elevated. I need practice swimming in cold, open water.
On the non-scientific front, the lake/water park is almost empty on an evening after work and it's just about the most fun you can have on a hot summer evening. If they have wireless internet, I'm definitely going to try to telecommute from there a few days a week. :-)
Tuesday, August 2, 2005
I luv weekends.
WEEKEND UPDATE
Yeah, so it rained Saturday and we didn't do the cup&cone tour. But we went to a really fun party for a friend of mine that evening and ate up all the calories we would have burned on the bike, so I guess that makes it all even.
And now it's Tuesday, and it's a beautiful day outside. I took a longer route to work this morning on the bike and almost ran over a herd of high-school girls from runner's camp in the park. They run kind of like buffalo.
IF YOU THINK READING ABOUT TRAINING REGIMENS IS BORING, SKIP THIS PART
On my mind this morning is whether I will have the nerve to actually participate in the next triathlon I'm registered for. It's called Bandit's Challenge, and it's notorious for being really tough. It's olympic distance. It's in the mountains. It has 2 infamously steep hils on the bike and on the run, which you actually have to cross multiple times. But you know, I don't mind hills so much. That'll be slow, but do-able. What I'm concerned about is that it's an open-water swim. We learned this year that I don't actually know how to swim in open water, unless you count dogpaddle or backstroke. And a mile is a long way to dogpaddle or backstroke.
Before today, I had already decided not to do it. The last one was just so tough, and competing in a field of athletes who are that much more experienced and faster was discouraging. This one will be worse, as I'm sure that the only people who will show up will be people who seriously gluttons for pain. Present company included, it seems. So why the change of heart? Two things. First, even though I've gained a few pounds in the last couple of months (OK, more than a few-- about 8 pounds!) I think I'm starting to get it off again. It was mostly just vacation weight from all that cheese and maple sugar and poutine. Now, this doesn't so much matter in a flat race, but Heavy + Hills = PAIN. Light + Hills = FAST. If I do manage to drop a few lbs, then I could make some decent time on the bike. Second, I've been swimming almost every day lately and I'm actually getting faster! Yesterday I swam a mile in 34 minutes, which was either a miscalculation on my part or a new (non-wetsuit) record for me, breaking the previous record by over 3 minutes! If I can just learn to swim in open water, then I think I'd be able to finish in a respectable time. Nowhere near winning, and probably not even near the middle of my age group, but at least within the time limit of 4hr15min. And hopefully not dead-last. Or dead.
BACK TO OTHER STUFF
SNG send me the funniest link- It's a plea to recognize the great spaghetti monster theory of creation in science programs in Kansas schools. If you haven't already seen it, check it out.
WEEKEND UPDATE
Yeah, so it rained Saturday and we didn't do the cup&cone tour. But we went to a really fun party for a friend of mine that evening and ate up all the calories we would have burned on the bike, so I guess that makes it all even.
And now it's Tuesday, and it's a beautiful day outside. I took a longer route to work this morning on the bike and almost ran over a herd of high-school girls from runner's camp in the park. They run kind of like buffalo.
IF YOU THINK READING ABOUT TRAINING REGIMENS IS BORING, SKIP THIS PART
On my mind this morning is whether I will have the nerve to actually participate in the next triathlon I'm registered for. It's called Bandit's Challenge, and it's notorious for being really tough. It's olympic distance. It's in the mountains. It has 2 infamously steep hils on the bike and on the run, which you actually have to cross multiple times. But you know, I don't mind hills so much. That'll be slow, but do-able. What I'm concerned about is that it's an open-water swim. We learned this year that I don't actually know how to swim in open water, unless you count dogpaddle or backstroke. And a mile is a long way to dogpaddle or backstroke.
Before today, I had already decided not to do it. The last one was just so tough, and competing in a field of athletes who are that much more experienced and faster was discouraging. This one will be worse, as I'm sure that the only people who will show up will be people who seriously gluttons for pain. Present company included, it seems. So why the change of heart? Two things. First, even though I've gained a few pounds in the last couple of months (OK, more than a few-- about 8 pounds!) I think I'm starting to get it off again. It was mostly just vacation weight from all that cheese and maple sugar and poutine. Now, this doesn't so much matter in a flat race, but Heavy + Hills = PAIN. Light + Hills = FAST. If I do manage to drop a few lbs, then I could make some decent time on the bike. Second, I've been swimming almost every day lately and I'm actually getting faster! Yesterday I swam a mile in 34 minutes, which was either a miscalculation on my part or a new (non-wetsuit) record for me, breaking the previous record by over 3 minutes! If I can just learn to swim in open water, then I think I'd be able to finish in a respectable time. Nowhere near winning, and probably not even near the middle of my age group, but at least within the time limit of 4hr15min. And hopefully not dead-last. Or dead.
BACK TO OTHER STUFF
SNG send me the funniest link- It's a plea to recognize the great spaghetti monster theory of creation in science programs in Kansas schools. If you haven't already seen it, check it out.
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