Good Christmas

I bet most parents have spent a little bit of time talking about which traits their offspring inherited from which parent. Usually these debates come up when discussing something stupid the kid does, and takes the form of "He got that from YOUR side of the family", etc. Or when he does something brilliant, in which case you say "he's a chip off the ol' block, he is!"

My son's intellectual brilliance, creativity, and wit are obviously from my contribution to his genetic makeup. But his tendency to stay up late at night and sleep until noon are definitely products of his mother's DNA. (As for his eventual adult productivity and the quality of his contributions to society, it remains unclear whether they will evoke claims of credit or assignment of blame. At the moment, most of his behaviors fall in the "aw geez, what do you expect from a teenager?" category. Sigh.)

Anyway, because I am filled with early morning energy while he remains in hibernatory dormancy, I long ago developed the habit of going for a sunrise hike on Christmas morning. I could get out to enjoy the beauty of winter in Colorado and still be home in time for him to wake up and see what Santa brought. Not many people are out on the trails on Christmas morning, so it's a fantastic time to savor some solitude and contemplate the upcoming new year. I can usually go several miles and get some good exercise in plenty of time to make it home before Tanner's slumberland sugarplums have finished their dances.

So, even though Tanner wasn't even coming to Denver until later in the day, my early morning hike remained an appealing tradition. (More about his arrival later.)



I drove to the I-70 Park n' Ride near Matthews Winters park, and strapped on my snowshoes. There were a couple of other cars in the lot, but I couldn't tell if they belonged to other hikers or if their drivers had taken off for other destinations. The snow at the start of the trail had been fairly well trampled and packed down, but it was still deep enough that I expected the snowshoes to become necessary up on top of the hogback. I started up.

It was a beautiful morning. Not much wind, not too cold, and no signs of yeti nor timber wolf in search of a human upon which to snack. No signs of other hikers, either. I could hear the traffic on I-70 if I listened for it, but otherwise, the only sounds were the foop-fooping of my snowshoes, and my own energetic respiration. The sunrise wasn't spectacular by Colorado standards, but was still delightful. What a great way to begin my holiday!

My prediction about snow depth proved to be in error. Oh sure, there were several places where I could walk off the beaten path and find myself in deeper snow, but there were many others where the only choice was to stay within the flattened zone. And at the very top, the bare rocks were showing, turning the snowshoes into a burden rather than an aid. I took 'em off and carried them the rest of the hike.

I can't complain, though. Even with my hands full, I have to say that it was a lovely hike. I hated to quit, but after a couple of hours I figured it was time to head home and prepare for the prodigal musician's arrival.

Compared to adventures experienced by those of you with younger children, the remainder of my Christmas Day was pretty dull. Tanner's plane was on time, gifts were opened, and food was consumed. He shared details about his experience in Seattle, and about his new job at the restaurant. Our Christmas Day was not filled with uproar and frivolity, nor was it crowded with relatives or events that will necessarily be remembered in years to come. But it was perfect, nonetheless. Sometimes, just hanging out with the ones you love can make a day seem extraordinary, even when nothing much happens. Christmas was indeed such a day for me.

I hope you had a great one, as well!

Floor Mats for Christmas?

What better way to spend Christmas Eve than going on a nice snowshoe hike through Roxborough park? The snowstorm was over, the sun was shining, and we had just finished a good swim practice. My buddy Reynold and I were excited about the prospect of tromping through the fresh snow among the spectacular red rocks of the park. Reynold drove his all-wheel-drive car, and the road into the park had recently been plowed. It was cold (9°), but we'd be hiking hard and expected to stay warm.

Um, it didn't quite go as planned. We hadn't anticipated the 40-mph winds.

So now I'm sure you're expecting a tale of Man vs. Nature, of human triumph over the elements, of hardship and determination as two athletic friends bravely forged through the deep white powder against howling winds and frightening wind chills. And I agree, that would be a great story -- but it was not meant to be.

The road into the park had been plowed. But the high winds had already rearranged the snow and had created a few minor drifts here and there. With 4WD, though, we didn't have any trouble driving up the first half mile of the park road. But then we saw a 4-Runner that had stopped several hundred yards in front of us. Perhaps conditions weren't as benign as we thought.

The 4-Runner was backing up. We decided that such a strategy was probably wise for us as well. Reynold put the car into reverse.

And the tires spun.

You see, the wind had blown the icy top layer of snow onto the plowed road. It wasn't that deep, but it did create a very slick mess. The tires just weren't able to get a grip. I got out to push.

All of my weight training and swim workouts were of no use, though -- my boots weren't getting any traction, either. Seeing me fall down multiples times without budging the car, the women in the 4-Runner ran up to help us. To make a long story short, we all pushed, dug snow with our hands, and even tried putting floor mats under the tires for additional traction. We ended up with frozen fingers, windburned faces, and utterly ruined floormats. But we did eventually get the car back onto a driveable surface.

The 4-Runner was able to drive out without getting stuck, and did so without giving us the chance to properly thank them for their help. (In the meantime, some butthead photographer in a black Bronco just sat behind us and watched. I hope he's still stuck out there.) Reynold and I decided we'd save our snowshoeing for another day, and opted for McGriddles instead. So...it turned out to be a great morning, after all...once our fingers finally warmed up.

As for the graphic at the top of this post, well, I apologize. I couldn't think of any pictures that represented "traction"...so I went for "tractor" instead. The leftmost image is the venerable Hoyt-Clagwell tractor driven by former Attorney Oliver Wendell Douglas. Next to that is a surgical retractor, which I assume is a device used to pick up icky stuff the doctor doesn't want to touch. Then we have a contractor, which is a guy who goes 100% over budget on every job, but never learns to change his estimating methods. And of course, the next image is the starship Enterprise, using its tractor beam. And finally we have a protractor, which you would expect to be the opposite of a contractor, but instead is a device used to make smoothly-curved doodles when you're not paying attention to the geometry teacher in high school.

Anyway, I'm sure we'll find another time to hike at Roxborough when the winds are calm and the roads are passable. In the meantime, have a great day, and a very Merry Christmas!

Goodies

Happy Holidays!

Rob brought a bunch of goodies to the office. I'm not talking about a homemade fruitscake or a measly 4-oz. plate of peanut brittle -- I'm talking about a Family-Size pizza tray heaped to the ceiling with fudge, peanut butter cookies (with kisses), Santa sugar cookies, toll-house bars, divinity, rum balls, and my all-time favorites: chocolate-PB-oatmeal no-bake cookies. He told me in very firm tones that these cookies HAD TO BE CONSUMED, or else there would be consequences. Since Rob is the technology guru, and has vast cosmic powers over the network and every single computer in the company, well, his orders must be obeyed.

Fortunately, I had help from some of the other employees, but I'm pretty sure I did most of the heavy lifting, so to speak. Yummy!

Ah, but what does this bounty mean in terms of maintaining my youthful figure? Well, it means that I'm even more motivated to stick with my "two-a-day" workout plan.

When I left Lockheed Martin, I was really excited about the opportunities that would exist once I escaped from the "work overtime until you die" culture and its toxic attitudes. I figured that with a reasonable work schedule, I'd be able to do my normal morning workouts, and then could do some sort of second set of exercise after I left the office. And sure enough, my schedule did indeed allow for such activities.

Unfortunately, my internal clock had other ideas. And the season probably didn't help, with that whole "sun going down at 4pm" thing. When I finished my workday, all I wanted to do was go home, eat dinner, and go to bed.

But that's not necessarily bad news. I found that getting to bed early allowed me to wake up early, and with plenty of energy. So, the new strategy became doing both workouts before going to the office. It's still in the experimental stage, but I'm trying to run before swim practice, and so far it's working out well. I'm only running a couple of miles (on some days, it's the elliptical), but I'm doing it with consistency. And I'm feeling pretty good about it.

So, bring on the cookies, dudes!

Oh, and speaking of which, did you recognize all the folks in the graphic at the top of this post? On the far left, we have Cookie Kwan, the top real estate agent in Springfield. Next to her is Cookie Gilchrist, who played for the Broncos in the mid 60s. He was the first AFL player to gain 1000 yards in a season, and was a noted crusader for civil rights.

Next to Gilchrist is Cookie Rojas, star 2nd baseman for the Kansas City Royals during the George Brett years (which incidentally, is the time period in which I became a baseball fan). And then we have the unnamed creature from the ice planet Hoth, who got his arm cut off by Luke Skywalker (after this photo was taken, obviously.) I included him in this tableau just because he's eating a cookie for some reason. (Couldn't find a rebel fighter to eat, I guess.) And finally, we have Edd "Kookie" Byrnes, who was the cool rebel hair-combing guy on the "77 Sunset Strip" TV show. He also had a hit single with Connie Stevens, who was one of my favorite actresses throughout the 70s. So, in the Christmas spirit, I shall wish you the tastiest of goodies throughout the holiday season. Enjoy the video, and have a great day!

Art

We are often reminded to stop and smell the flowers, which is an abbreviation of golfer Walter Hagen's advice: "Don't hurry, don't worry, you're only here for a short visit, so be sure to smell the flowers along the way."

My problem is that I'm allergic to certain fragrances. The scent of lilacs, for example, gives me a splitting headache. Perfumes, potpourri, and scented air fresheners all make run run in the other direction. It's kinda crazy; I don't mind the smell of manure or oil refineries or dead skunks, but if you shove a bouquet of posies under my nose, I might go into convulsions.

But I totally agree with the intent behind Hagen's advice. I just happen to interpret it as a visual reminder: Be sure to look at the mountains along the way.

While I was primarily focused on enjoying the athletic competition in Colorado Springs last weekend, I also took time to drink in some of the visuals at the Olympic Training Center. The photo below is of Pikes Peak as seen from a walkway just south of the swimming complex. The lane is lined with flags of countries who compete in the Games, and is quite lovely.



There's also a nice little fountain in front of the visitor's center. I'm unfamiliar with the geological process that created the big ice chunks, but I thought they looked really cool in the early morning sunlight.



OK, this next one probably isn't all that appealing from an aesthetic standpoint, but I thought it was interesting, nonetheless. Perhaps New Yorkers and Los Angelinos see heliocopters perched upon rooftops all the time, but it's not that common of a sight here in Colorado.



My buddy Russ is a helicopter pilot, and has been educating me on some chopper basics. Did you know that whirlybirds fly better on cold days (unlike baseballs), and can't go all that much higher than Denver if it's over 100° on a hot summer day? Makes sense; if the air is thicker, there's more opportunity for pressure differential at the lifting surfaces. Thinking about that makes you realize just how dangerous it is for the firefighters who fly choppers to combat forest blazes in the summertime. Those dudes have some serious cojones.

Anyway, I suspect this particular bird belonged to some fatcat corporate executive who was just wanting to exploit consumers by taking a few more frivolous joyrides before the Occupy protests succeed in putting his evil company out of business. (They probably make medical diagnostic equipment or antilock brake system computers or something, the bastards.)

Anyway, the other walkways were lined with a bunch of 2-dimensional sculptures representing the various Olympic sports, and were very cool. I especially enjoyed the tennis players and karate combatants. But this guy puzzled me:



Naturally I assumed that he was a "moonwalk" competitor and that he had to reach out with his hand to break the finish line tape as he shuffled backwards. But then I realized that none of the other sculptures incorporated a finish line artifact...so perhaps the line behind him was meant to represent something else. Could it be representing a bullet trajectory from the "sniper" competition that went through his head and then also smacked his hand, in a fashion similar to the "magic" bullet fired by Lee Harvey Oswald? Hmm.

Well, neither of those scenarios seemed too likely, since those sports aren't in the Olympics yet. So perhaps I needed another perspective.

Ah, perspective. You see, that's the problem with 2D sculptures that represent 3-dimensional activities -- there has to be an implied depth to the depicted scenario. Perhaps the line isn't going through his head after all, but instead is something he's holding in his hand. Ahh! I see it now -- he's throwing a stick! He's playing "fetch" with a gargantuan puppy!

Wait. Maybe it's a javelin. Yeah, that would make sense. Let's just say it's a javelin.

But what the heck is this? The dude has some serious arthritis. That's gotta hurt.

Even with the understanding that this is a silhouette with perspective, I still can't imagine a human hand configuration that would result in this particular shape. Even Steve Ditko wouldn't subject his characters to such harsh contortions.

But I guess that's what "art" is all about. If that particular sculptor wants to indicate Olympian effort through inhuman finger distortion, I guess that's his prerogative. And I, as an art enthusiast, am free to absorb whatever inspiration from it I might choose.

The point is, my friends, that even if you're not a big fan of smelly, er, I mean fragrant plant life, there are always opportunities for education and/or enjoyment from observing the world around you. As Christmas approaches, I urge you to look around yourself once in a while. Enjoy the lights, the decorations, and the other physical manifestations of cheer. Look toward the mountains and marvel at Nature's beauty, and pause a moment to enjoy the patterns on your windshield before you attack it with the ice scraper. Let's grab every bit of enjoyment and wonder out of each and every day, OK?

Cool. Thanks for stopping by, my friends. Have a great day!

Modern Pentathlon

When I was thinking about doing a "new thing a day" in December, one of the things on my list was to attend some sort of sporting event I had never seen before. Lacrosse was a possibility, as was competitive eating. And come to think of it, I've never watched a professional table tennis match in person, either.

But a different opportunity arose, and I took it. Sammy Achterberg, one of the contenders for the 2012 Olympic team, has been swimming with us at Foothills from time to time. Her sport is the Modern Pentathlon, and she was competing yesterday at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. I decided to go down to watch.

A little background: The five sports in the original Olympic pentathlon were running, wrestling, long jump, javelin, and discus. It was designed to test skills that would be useful in warfare, though I confess I'm at a loss to explain how throwing a metal frisbee came in handy in ancient battles. When the Olympics were rebooted in 1912, they updated the events to represent skills needed by soldiers of the time -- so the "modern" pentathlon consists of swimming, fencing, running and shooting, and jumping over stuff on a horse. I'm not sure how often turn-of-the-century soldiers had to swim during battles, but the other stuff sorta makes sense.

What I do wonder about, though, is why they don't just call it "pentathlon". I mean, when they change the rules in football, they don't rename the sport as "modern football". When they added the designated hitter, they didn't suddenly call it "modern baseball". It's still five events -- so what if they're not exactly the same as what the musty old Greeks did?

Anyway, I really enjoyed watching the events. The horseback riding was at a different venue later in the day, so I missed that part, but I did see the swimming, fencing, and run-shoot. It was a tad less formal than I expected for an Olympic Training Center event (spectators were allowed to mill around in the middle of the competition area, for example), and I was a bit surprised to learn that the coaches for the US team are all Europeans. But it was definitely fun to watch, and very educational.

The swim was a standard 200m freestyle race. Nothing new there. Sammy is in the far lane -- 3. She swam well, and had the fastest 200 she had ever swum in that pool.



Fencing was next. The women probably had about an hour to rest, refuel, and change into their fancy fencing outfits. (Yeah, I'm sure there's a formal name for the rig they have to wear, but I didn't ask that question.) They wear stretchy pants suitable for lunging, plastic armor to protect the chest, and of course, the wire mesh facemask that probably makes them feel like Darth Vader. But the key component is the jacket that contains the wiring. They plug the back of their top into a spring-loaded cord retractor, and that connector is wired through to a plug in their glove where they then connect to their sword. (OK, they don't call it a sword. It's an épée. Sure. Whatever.)

The tip of the weapon apparently has a sensor that detects a "touch"...which is the official term for when you successfully stab your opponent. It appears to be legal to stab them anywhere, as long as it's tip-first -- slashing might be effective in actual combat, but it doesn't do you any good in this competition. Anyway, since the sensor detects the impact when the tip slams into your victim, they have to test the mechanism before the bout. The official places some sort of weighted gizmo onto the sword and (as far as I could tell) if the official scoring machine beeps, it means you're good to go. Each competitor must duel each of the other contestants, and the scoring is based on how many "victories" and "defeats" you achieve. Each "touch" is counted as a victory, and each time your opponent stabs you first, you record a defeat. As I understand it, they usually only fence until someone scores a touch...but since there were so few women in this competition, each bout consisted of three touches.

Most bouts began with the athletes tapping their blades together, trying to get a feel for the way the other person moved. One would be the aggressor, moving forward while their opponent retreated. The combat area is a long metal strip on the floor--it was not unusual to see the women dance back and forth along the entire length of this strip as they tested each other's defenses. At some point, though, someone would lunge in -- and in a microsecond the beeper would go off and the score would have been made. Sometimes it was the aggressor who got the touch, and sometimes the defender would parry the attack and thrust home with a counter. Often, the two weapons would land at the same time, resulting in a "double-touch", in which no one would score.

That made me wonder how many ancient duels actually ended with both participants being run through at the same time. Seems a messy business. But as a sport, it's fascinating.

And quick. Most of the time, I couldn't tell exactly what happened, or who was successful. But it went by quickly, and there was lots of action. Sammy started strong, but seemed to be taking the worst of it by the end of the fencing segment. Then it was on to the run-shoot portion of the competition.

This was very cool. They had these groovy laser pistols they'd fire at a little round spot on the wall. If the laser hit the spot, one of the lights would turn green. When you had five green lights (or had run out of time -- the limit was 70 seconds), you'd put down the weapon and take off for a 1000 meter run. The run course was a loop around the building, so that at the end of the 1000, you'd be back at the shooting range for another five bulls-eyes. Then run another thousand...and then do it one more time. So the total distance was 3000 meters.

That might not seem like a lot to some of the ultra-runners I hang out with, but the real challenge is to take aim quickly and nail a target while puffing and panting from a hard sprint. I was amazed at how accurate these women were under those conditions. They're required to "reload" (ie, reset the firing mechanism) between each shot, and yet Sammy was still able to hit the target five times in less than 20 seconds. It's gotta be quite a challenge to run fast AND shoot fast, without getting any kind of a break in between.

Most of the women were able to hit all five targets within the time limit, though. And after the third round of shooting, it's down to an all-out sprint to the finish line. It was especially fun to watch these athletes crank up the speed across the Training Center campus on such a gorgeous day. Then, of course, there were high-fives and hugs all around.

I did shoot some video, but haven't reviewed it yet. If it's any good, I might post it in the next week or so. But it was an exciting competition to watch in person, and I'm glad I went.

One postscript, though, just to put some of these skills in perspective: After they finished the run-shoot event, Sammy invited me to try my luck on the pistol range. I had taken a marksmanship class in college, and the targets didn't look like they were that far away...and I didn't have to do any running. It looked fun, so I thought I'd light up a few greens just for grins.

The pistols are charged with compressed air, so that they do have a small kick when you pull the trigger. They're not exactly weightless, either...so I can imagine how all that prior swimming and sword waving would wear down your shoulder strength, too. But I hadn't done anything all day long, so I had all the advantages.



Clint Eastwood, I am not. After missing several dozen shots, Sammy showed me how to turn on the laser sight. The little red dot showed up on the far wall--so all I had to do was squeeze the trigger when it was over the target. Looked easy. But wasn't. I didn't count my attempts, but the folks who were still hanging around the range all got a good laugh from my efforts. I kept trying (and missing), until I could tell that it was no longer funny...merely pitiful. I handed the pistol back to its owner, and Sammy packed up her gear and left to go get ready for the horse riding.

I was sorry to miss that segment. They are assigned an unfamiliar horse, and after just a few minutes of warmup, have to lead the animal through a series of challenging jumps on a timed course. I don't know that much about horses, but that sounds like something that requires a real comfort level with all things equestrian. So, if the pistol demonstration wasn't enough, the requirement to ride would ensure that you'll never see me competing in the modern pentathlon. Perhaps if they update it to the "ultra-modern pentathlon" (online pizza ordering, TV remote control management, nacho preparation, and the beer/bathroom race), I might give it a try. Otherwise, I'm more than content to remain a spectator.

If you ever get a chance to watch pentathlon competition, I'd highly recommend it. And since Sammy has a legitimate shot at making the US Olympic Team for the London Games, if you see her at the pool be sure to wish her luck. And have a great day!

Nighttime Track Practice

If you were standing on the surface of the sun and looking toward the Earth, its tiny size might lead you to think that the way it tilts as it spins in orbit would not affect the inhabitants much. The whole planet just isn't that large (in cosmic terms), and 93 million miles is pretty far away. I mean, if you have a foot-high space heater in your bathroom, it can toast your toenails rapidly if you're within a meter of it. But if you walked away to where it was just a dot on the landscape, it wouldn't influence you at all, no matter which way you happened to lean.

But the fact is that a few degrees of slant actually does make a huge difference to our little globe -- meaning that we sweat like pigs when we're tilted toward the sun and we freeze our earlobes off when we're tilted away. It seems silly to put up with this when a few strategically-placed rockets could be used to correct the Earth's wobble within a few thousand years.

Why are we not working on this?

Oh yeah, I forgot; "climate change" is evil for some reason. OK, then how about this? What if we put each city on a system of rails so that we could move them north or south as comfort dictated? We could even keep some cities in perpetual summer, and make others into permanent winter wonderlands. Of course, to make room for the rail system, we'd have to do away with a few towns that would be in the way, but places like Oakland, Wichita, and Norman, Oklahoma certainly wouldn't be missed by any civilized people. So why not?

It wouldn't cost us anything. (Well, OK, it would require raising taxes on the rich, but they're not "us", and our leaders have constantly assured us that there are no conceivable negative consequences from turning rich people into poor people.) We should definitely go for it.

Of course, such humongous infrastructure transformations do take time, so for the moment we seem to be stuck with the disruptive effects of changing seasons. This means that it gets dark quite early in December, and that local running tracks get covered with snow. And herein lies our tale for today.

My brother and I decided to try running on the track at our "normal" time...which because of the shortening daylight is now after the sun has set. We knew it would be dark, and we also knew that there would be some snow on the track. We brought headlamps, and were mentally prepared for some questionable footing.

We probably didn't need the headlamps; there was enough light from the school, the roads, and reflection off the snow to make unaided navigation possible. But the running surface was a challenge. They had plowed about 100 yards of the track, but meltage from nearby drifts had flowed across the track and refrozen to leave an invisible film of slickness on the part that looked clean. The rest of the oval was either completely snowcovered, or mottled with footprint holes and surrounding ridges. Retaining verticality would be a challenge.

Pat handled it much better than I did. Either he has better balance than I do, or just less fear of taking a tumble. He probably considered the risks to be potential minor scrapes and bruises from losings one's balance -- whereas I kept visualizing horrid bloody death from being impaled on an icicle or from splitting my skull when my head smashed into a surface rendered unyielding by Winter's remorseless cruelty. He may have run at a 10-15% slower pace than normal, but I was a full 50% more slothlike.

It was still good exercise. I was working hard -- it's just that the effort went more into balance and foot placement than it did to speed and forward motion. I had a good turnover rate -- I was pumping my legs and churning my arms like Maurice Green, but I had the stride length of Gary Coleman. I know I worked hard because when we finished the workout, there was steam coming off every part of my body.

Will I do it again? Sure! I may also look for other places to do speedwork (on a treadmill, perhaps?), and I may make myself some screwshoes...but there's no reason to remove sprint training from my winter workout plan.

Of course, I also wouldn't object if Mother Nature decided to throw in a few good melting days before next week. I love the beauty of snow, and without the whiteness of a blanketed landscape the headlamps may truly become necessary...but I have to believe that running on a dry track would provide a more valuable training opportunity for me right now. Outside of town, though -- hey, knock yourself out. Dump all the snow you want west of Kipling. In fact, that would give me incentive to get out the snowshoes -- so go for it!

For now, though, I'm just happy to be free of injuries and am enjoying the season. I haven't heard any political candidates backing my "fix global tilting with polar rockets" idea, but if I do, well, that's the one who will get my vote. I hope you're with me on this, but either way, I hope you are enjoying this fabulous December. Have a great day!

Lovely Weekend

First, let me answer the most important question everyone has been asking: Yes, there was chocolate at the company Christmas party. It was yummy. In fact, all of the food (recognizable or not) was tasty. And since I arrived before nearly everyone else, I had my fill of various sorts of appetizers -- all of which were intricately crafted delicacies containing exotic ingredients...some of which were mounted upon thin wooden sticks, while others were delivered in some sort of hollowed out edible containers. I think some of them were built into mushroom or tortilla-based constructs, while others consisted of multicolored goo lovingly arranged to artfully decorate the surface of some kind of very thin dried toast.

Somebody went to a LOT of effort to design and produce these appetizers, but from what I saw, most were consumed in a single gulp, with the consumer failing to take the time to appreciate the artistry and skill of the chef. In other words, some peanut butter on a Ritz would've received the same treatment and appreciation.

There were several options available for the meal itself. I tried a little bit of everything, but since the lighting was subdued and my eyesight ineffective, I have no idea what most of it was. No matter -- I was able to eat enough of it to have just the right amount of hunger remaining when the desserts were brought out. Again, I had difficulty identifying exactly what I was eating, but there was chocolate...so I was happy.

The rest of the event was filled with amiable conversations among coworkers, a short speech by the boss, and the opportunity to meet the non-employee support staff (ie, spouses). There was also abundant alcohol, but since I knew I had to drive myself home at an hour well past my bedtime, I abstained. I probably was the first to leave the party, but I think everyone recognizes that it was due to my genetic lack of party stamina rather than any sort of implication that I didn't enjoy the event. It was a swell party, and I extend the most hearty thanks and enthusiastic kudos to all involved in its planning and execution.

I must also express my gratitude to my buddy Reynold for coming up with an idea that made my morning at least as enjoyable as the evening. (Yes, I know that it's traditional to put blog paragraphs in chronological order...but I felt obligated to answer the chocolate question first, and that meant starting off with the party review, and then returning to cover the antecedent events. Sorry.)

Wait, let me back up even further and thank the pool staff and the Masters Swim Team Coach for providing an outstanding environment in which to swim early that morning. As they always are, our "Fun Friday" workout was challenging, stimulating, and utterly delightful. The water was probably too hot for the fast people, but it felt good to me, and I swam reasonably well. I have to admit that I am a HUGE fan of our Friday swim coach; I am baffled as to why the chicks aren't all over him. The dude totally rocks!

But I digress. After practice, Reynold and I went for a hike out in Roxborough Park. Some background: Reynold hiked a whole bunch of 14ers this summer, and when our pal Desmond had shoulder surgery, suggested that hiking the entire Highline Canal Trail would be a good way to stay in shape during rehab. They've invited me on a few of their hikes, but I've had to decline for one reason or another. But this time, I thought I'd be able to go.

Unfortunately, there was snow. Since Desmond isn't supposed to move his arm too much yet, the conclusion was that he'd be better off sitting this one out. One little slip with an instinctive bracing of the arm, and he'd be right back in the OR. It was a bummer that he wouldn't be joining us, but a wise decision nonetheless. Anyway, Reynold and I decided to save the last Highline leg for when Desmond could come -- and we would do a loop within Roxborough Park instead.

It was bee-you-tee-full! It was a brisk 18° when we started, but the trail had enough snow, slope, and (eventually) sunshine to keep us comfy during the climb. We pretty much had the park to ourselves (though we did see some bunnies, birds, and deer.) The deepest snow was about 6 inches, and the trail was easy to follow. All of the scenery was gorgeous, but there is a nice lookout point where you could see much of the valley. I love the fact that such wonderful places are so close to my home. And when you combine the red-rock aesthetics with good conversation and good exercise, well, you just can't beat that for a fabulous morning activity.

Did I burn enough calories on the hike to make up for what I later ate at the Christmas party? Sadly, no. Not even close. But going for a hike was certainly better than going straight home and chowing down on nachos all morning, which I probably would've done with Reynold's invitation. We completed our hiking before it was warm enough to muddy everything up, and we enjoyed a brief stop at McDonalds afterwards to refuel. After a short drive home, I had a nice hot bath and a brief nap, and then it was time to dress up for the party.

The rest of the weekend was nice, too, though unremarkable. I ended up coaching Saturday and Sunday as well as Friday, and put in some pretty productive pool yardage. And yes, I did watch the Broncos and their "You gotta be kidding me!" comeback on Sunday afternoon. I would comment on the endless string of improbable events that put them in the position they're currently in...but you've heard enough commentary from others, I'm sure. At this point, I would normally provide the lone "voice of reason" and advise people against expecting the rest of the season to go that way. But "reason" has nothing whatsoever to do with the performance of this team. The normal rules of the Universe seem to have been suspended. That's cool, I suppose, but until things start making sense again, I'll keep my opinions and predictions to myself.

Well, OK -- one prediction. I predict that Tebow gets some lucrative endorsement contracts, and will be all over the media during the off season, regardless how the remainder of this campaign unfolds. I know I'm going out on a limb with that one, but it's how I feel.

And along with that feeling, there's one of general contentment right now. Perhaps it's the holiday season and its "wonderful life" vibe. Or perhaps it's my progress with my training program...or maybe the fact that there are still more parties on the horizon. Whatever it is, I'm feeling good, and I intend to enjoy it. Perhaps we can all stay on a good December roll, eh? Hope so. In any case, thanks for reading, and have a great day!

On a Roll

When I typed the title of this post, it was meant to convey that things are going well for me athletically...and I'll get back to that in a minute. But since "roll" has multiple meanings, it also got me thinking about a couple of other things that are going on in my life right now.

One is that my company's Christmas party is tomorrow. I have mixed emotions about this. As a socially-inept introvert, well, large parties are not an environment in which I thrive. And since my nominal bedtime is just about when the dinner begins, I certainly have to stretch out of my comfort zone to attend.

On the other hand, I do enjoy most of the people I work with, and am looking forward to the opportunity to get to know my coworkers better. I like my job (my "role", if you will--get it?), I like my bosses, and I certainly do appreciate the fact that the company wants to show us a good time by springing for a nice meal at a fancy place. But as regular readers know, the word "fancy" denotes an entirely different universe than the one in which I reside. My closest relationship with "dressing up" would probably be when I watched "Tennessee Tuxedo" cartoons as a kid.

Anyway, the point is that my limited experience with fancy dining seems to suggest that the appetizer of choice at such events is often hard rolls. They're just like the dinner rolls you might have at your own house on Thanksgiving, but for some reason, their surface has the approximate chewability of carborundum. And if you do succeed in cracking the exterior, the result is an explosion of crust shards that mostly wind up in your shirt pocket. Once the crust is breached, the roll's interior is revealed to contain mostly air -- with no solid surface upon which to spread butter. And the butter they give you is usually impervious to spreading anyway. Haven't these people heard of Wonder Bread and Blue Bonnet?

Or better yet, what's wrong with a giant plate of nachos?

My guess is that most of the rules of "fancy" were created in Europe, and the standards for mealtime ostentation were based upon the cooking technology of the day. Those early trendsetters may have been kings and earls and such, but they simply didn't have access to the wondrous talent and innovation to be found within the American baking industry.

Regardless, my concerns are probably moot. There will probably be delicious appetizers of all kinds at our party, and the meal will be a feast of epic deliciousness. And surely the chef will understand the requirement for chocolate after the meal, as well.

I'll let you know. (But don't call me Shirley.)

Glutinous foodstuffs aside, the topic I intended to share today is an update on my training status. And on that subject, I am happy to report that things are going well. Some background:

For the past few years, I have struggled with running -- Injuries and inconsistency, mostly (or perhaps injuries because of inconsistency), generously sprinkled with bad attitudes and/or ambivalence toward the sport. Last summer, though, my friends Joe and Kristen talked me into a triathlon. Around the same time, my buddy Kim (yes, the same guy who inspired me to try the Triple Bypass) started urging me to train not only for triathlons, but to look toward doing a marathon as well. He has even signed up for the Colfax marathon next spring, and has continued to try to talk me into training for it with him.

With inspirational friends like these, and with the awesome examples set by ultra-running enthusiasts like my friend Katie, well -- I decided to make a more serious attempt to rehab myself. After all, I used to be able to do this stuff, and I'm not THAT old.

At first, my plan was to try to do more running in the evenings after work. But I quickly found that after a hard day of slaving over a hot computer, I hadn't the energy and motivation to go back outside. So I decided to try getting up a tad earlier in the morning and running just a couple of miles (on a treadmill at this point in the year), with the intention of becoming more consistent. The theory was that if I could do an easy run (no matter how short) every other day (or so), my body would adapt better than with what I had been doing -- which was running twice a week, with one of those runs a longer one. I would hope to slowly build up my weekly mileage without risking injury from trying to do too much at once.

So far, it seems to be working. The last few days have been relatively pain free during my time on the treadmill. I still need to do more stretching, get more massages, and lose more weight...but as of today, I've had a full week of consistent and non-injurious running, and I'm gaining optimism and enthusiasm each and every day. I hope to stay on this roll, and have it flow into where I can develop a serious training plan for races during the 2012 season. And as always, I appreciate the support from all of you. Should be a fun adventure, and a great year.

Oh, and by the way, the photo at the top of the page is musician Jelly Roll Morton. And speaking of musicians, please stay tuned for dramatic tales about Tanner's planned trip to Denver for Christmas. Is he coming...or not? Does he have a job? Or not? When will the next album be ready for sale? All these questions (and more) will be answered in future posts. In the meantime, thanks for dropping by. Have a great day!

It's Cold!

It's not officially "winter" yet, but it's finally beginning to feel like it. Do sub-zero temperatures and snow on the ground help you to feel in the Christmas spirit? Or would you be OK with being Australian?

My attitudes vacillate. I like seeing snow on the pine trees and hearing boots crunching through the frozen tundra. There are times when the sun is bright and the air is crisp where I find it positively exhilarating to inhale the chilled air and watch the landscape sparkle. But there are other times when I really wish I didn't have to wear longjohns and stocking caps...and didn't have to scrape Nature's beauty off my freakin' windshield. And even though I sorta like that "whumpf" sound my condo's heater makes when the gas ignites, I'm not a big fan of knowing how much it costs me to stay warm.

No, let's revise that -- how much it costs me to not completely freeze. Yes, I do have a programmable thermostat and I do turn it down to the "I really don't want to get up to pee" level at night. The only time I turn it up to where I only have to wear one sweatshirt is when I'm going to be working at the computer.

Yeah, I know...I'll be complaining about the heat in 6 months. I believe this is what Elton John calls the "circle of life". It's simply Nature's way of punishing us for axial tilt -- which as we all know, is caused by people who drive SUVs.

Anyway, the weather in Denver is certainly Christmasy. So let us ring bells and bake cookies and sing carols about ancient European royalty who would positively be forgotten by history if it weren't for cryptic songs about yuletide merriment with no references to Christmas whatsoever. I give you...King Wenceslas.



The first fellow is an author named Stephen King. I think he writes children's stories or something, at which he seems to have achieved moderate success. I was going to use boxing promoter Don King (since I like his hairdo), or perhaps Oscar-winning director King Vidor (who directed part of "Wizard of Oz"), but went with Steve because we writers need to stick together and I figured he could use a plug.

The second gentleman is the performer known as Señor Wences, a ventriloquist who put makeup on his hand rather than springing for an actual dummy. His act also included talking to characters inside boxes, and for some reason, spinning hubcaps. But I like the guy.

And of course, the last two pictures are slaws. Cole slaws to be precise, though I'll confess that I don't know of any other types of slaw. Some people refer to the tenet that "anything that can go wrong, will" as Murphy Slaw, but I don't think that's 100% correct.

On to the music --

There are two songs referenced here. The baseball player pictured is Japanese slugger Sadaharu Oh, who hit more than 800 home runs in his professional career. The photo next to his is a tannenbaum.

Then we have a representation of everyone's favorite red nosed reindeer. First there is Rue McClanahan (one of the grotesquely obnoxious "Golden Girls" on TV), followed by Dolph Lundgren, who followed in Mr. T's footsteps in implausibly getting beat up by Rocky Balboa.

OK, I'll confess that the next puzzle was a bit more challenging. It's not a title at all, but a reference to a minor plot device that appeared in the holiday classic, "It's a Wonderful Life". It was one of the things that helps George Bailey understand whether he exists or not.

Did that hint help?


It's "Zuzu's Petals".

OK, it's actually "Zuul Zuul Pedals", but c'mon, that's close enough, isn't it?

Yes, I know that using an emissary of Gozer the Destructor is probably not appropriate for describing a sweet and life-affirming tribute to the love-slathered wonder of Christmas...but these challenges just wouldn't be any fun if they were all as easy as the next one, right?



Get out the whipped cream, my friends. It's Pump, Ken (Griffey, Jr.), Pi. Yum!

So with that, I shall bid you good day. Stay warm, my friends; eat plenty of holiday goodies, and have a great day!

2011

Yeah, I know it isn't quite the end of the year, and is therefore premature to offer up the annual retrospecticus. But as part of the ongoing thought process about re-tooling my "try new stuff" project, it occurred to me that I might want to look at 2011's accomplishments before trying to finalize a to-do list for 2012.

One of the things I resolved to do in 2011 was to reduce the number of obscure Star Trek references within this blog. I have clearly failed. Perhaps I just need to embrace my nerdiness and recognize that all the normal people in the world will continue to view me as a puzzling aberration. I like to think, though, that I am an amusing aberration (after all, people do occasionally point at me and laugh...so they MUST be recognizing my sense of humor, right?), but if nothing else, I'll just try to take pride in the fact that I help with cultural diversity by exposing mainstream America to the richness and color that encrusts the world of the unmitigated dweeb.

But I'm not alone. The graphic above came from a fellow from Pennsylvania named Tony Phyrillas. I like the picture a lot, not only for its obvious visual pun, but also for its thought-provoking juxtaposition of a bio-engineered megalomaniac against traditions of Nativity. If I were in graduate school right now, I'd probably write my thesis about how Khan's story parallels that of the New Testament. After all, he was conceived through nonstandard processes, visited by three wise men (Kirk, Spock, McCoy), had disciples, had a close relationship with the creator of a world, and was ultimately put to death by those who had originally admired him. There was also the theme of the One who gave himself as the savior of the Many, and then, of course--the subsequent resurrection.

Wow. I had never thought of any of this until I saw that wreath. And if I wanted to really stretch it, I'd also comment about how Scotty eventually got fat...just like Santa Claus. And after all, he's the guy who harnesses the dilithium "reindeer" that can fly around the world, delivering (ie, "beaming") gifts to the good boys and girls. I mean, seriously...Wow! That's a whole lot more symbolism and philosophical mileage than anyone got out of my simplistic "Mr. Tebow" picture from yesterday.

Anyway, the point is that I didn't do that well on my 2011 resolutions. Oh, I did play guitar some, and I did limit my tendency to blame all Irish people for the transgressions of U2. But I did NOT live up to my promise to torture the swim team more in order to make them tougher. I'm still too much of a softie, letting them get away with enjoying practices and making friends...instead of forcing them to do crushing workouts full of butterfly and no breathers. Maybe I can develop the requisite toughness next year, but I'm sure if you'd ask them, they'd all complain that I'm far too mellow and generous. Sigh.

My buddy Kim came up with another good suggestion for 2012. Instead of doing a "new thing a day" for a month, he suggested that I choose 30 new things to do and sprinkle them throughout the coming year. That would give me more flexibility, and would allow me to pick more interesting and challenging items than I could do if I was forced to cram these tasks into days that were already full with other obligations. I think I'm going to do that, and I'd like to be able to share a semi-complete list with you sometime around the first of the year. If you have any suggestions for things I could try, please let me know.

In the meantime, I'd urge you to go back and look at your 2011 resolutions. If you haven't yet accomplished them all, there still might be time to nail a few of 'em. Let me know how it goes.

Good luck, and have a great day!

Seasonal Challenges

First, please allow me to apologize to the Denver Broncos. It wasn't long ago that I predicted that they would not win another game this season. I was wrong, and I'm man enough to admit it -- just like I admitted my error when I predicted that Obi Wan's proclamation that "there is another" would be revealed as meaning that Jabba the Hutt was a secret Jedi. I was also wrong when I predicted that the Rockies would win the World Series this year.

I may have also been wrong on other occasions, but I can't recall what those could possibly be. Anyway, the point is that the Broncos are now tied with the Raiders, and even though I'm not any sort of football fanatic, it would give me great pleasure to see the Raiders finish the season by losing every remaining game.

Anyway, we've had some snow, the Santas are out in force, and public elevators are playing hideous Muzak versions of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" -- 'tis definitely the season. So, in that spirit, I offer a few Christmas-themed puzzles.

Enjoy, and good luck! Let us begin with some challenges derived from holiday music.



And a movie reference (for extra credit):


And finally, let's talk about food.



OK, that one makes me hungry. I'm going to go see what's in the fridge. Have a great day!

Happy Birthday to Me!

"Another year older and deeper in debt."

My birthday falls upon a weekday this year; therefore it will resemble every other workday, with the addition of birthday greetings from coworker, and perhaps a few notes and phone calls from friends and family. It has been a busy week, but a good one, and my birthday looks to be a busy day as well. I have a proposal due, and many tasks remain before it's ready to submit.

There's a certain amount of excitement attached to birthdays when one of the following things happens:

1. You move into the bottom of a new age group for competitions
2. You expect to receive a special birthday present of some sort (new car, cool techno gizmo, visit from the Swedish Bikini Team, etc.)
3. You throw a rockin' party with live music and all-you-can-eat ice cream.

Alas, none of these things made it on my agenda this year. Well, OK, I do expect to eat some ice cream at some point over the next few days, but I'm pretty sure there will be no party hats, gift-wrapped vehicles in the driveway, nor competitive advantages bestowed. In fact, this year kinda seems like one in which I merely got older, without gaining any benefits whatsoever from ticking off another year. No new discounts at IHOP, no new driver's license photo, no Social Security benefits -- everything's pretty much the same as it was last year.

Well, that's not entirely true. This has been a year of significant events, including a new job, and having my son move to a different city. But this particular birthday milestone marks nothing more than the passage of another 365 days, and as long as I'm healthy and happy and surrounded by people I enjoy, it really doesn't matter much, does it?

Leading up to December 1st, I had been thinking of copying my friend Katie's "birthday month of firsts" concept. In October, she gave herself the challenge of doing something new she had never ever tried before on each and every day of her birthday month, and then to write about it in her blog (www.runlongkatie.com). I thought this was a very cool idea, and I started making a list of things I might do in December. I came up with some excellent challenges (swim a 500 Taz, for example) and some awesome adventures (visiting Four Corners, going up in the Seattle Space Needle, etc.) You should try to make such a list--it's actually VERY hard to come up with 31 different things that you have NEVER done before (and that you can actually afford).

But as the start date approached, I realized that I might not be up to the challenge. Not only would my schedule be stressed by adding so many additional tasks to my to-do list, the fact is that I've already done SO many things that other people never get to do--I'd really have to stretch to fill the entire month with novel experiences.

I also have my own prodigious laziness to deal with, as well as my irrational fears about trying new foods. (Seriously, I had put "eat soufflé" on the list, but then realized that I didn't want to risk anything that might result in me being tempted to wear a beret.)

So, I decided to forego that particular challenge. Sorry. I may still try to do some of the list items this month, just because they sound fun...but there will be no pressure. I will also try to write about some of the experiences I've had throughout my life that probably aren't shared by many people (streaking, riding a motorcycle nearly 10 miles without turning it on, etc). And then perhaps I'll try the "month o' firsts" thing the next time I roll over a decade. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, it's December...which is a month that brings its own excitement and opportunities. I'll still have plenty to write about, I'm sure. So, please help me celebrate by having a great and wonderful day! Thanks!