what's my motivation...

Since I no longer have a Beginner Triathlete account - apparently, once you decide to leave the website, the owners will not let you back on if you decide you want to come back (never mind that I paid at least a couple of hundred bucks to be a member in the 2+ years I was on there)... although all I really wanted to come back for was the forums, and its blogging function, which is awesome. But apparently I did stuff - um, I guess its called being a Free Thinker - that annoyed the website's owners, so I guess once you leave, you really do get shoved out the airlock, because when I attempted to re-establish an account a few months back, I got quickly banned - even though I never did anything that violated the TOS, as far as I can tell.

Free Thinking along the lines of "well, you know, I'm really not a good athlete, I don't have oodles of athletic ability, and why should I bust my ass training when I'm never going to win or even place respectably in any race that I'm paying (insert dollar amount here, but even most run races now are at least $25 for the t-shirt, and triathlons are $40 on up) to participate in... shouldn't this be fun rather than some bizarre online competitive contest?"

Now, to be somewhat honest, most people on BT were not like that but after a while one gets tired of the same personalities, the same arguments, and the same running around in rhetorical circles while trying to find motivation to exercise period.  I'm almost 50 years old, I was always picked last for every sport in school (or not picked at all), and, compared to most people in my AG that I see walking around in the world, I'm in far better than everyone BUT the hardcore (insert sport - runners, cyclists, triathletes) who were either stars on the athletic teams in high school and college and that we were put in assemblies at the politically correct equivalent of gunpoint and expected to say "Yay, rah-rah, go TEAM!" when these are the same people that shoved the chess club members into the lockers during passing period.

In other words, I look pretty decent but I suck at sports. I will *never* be good at sports no matter how much I practice, or train... so, aside from being terrified of open heart surgery, angioplasty, and becoming dependent on the meds the pharma companies in this country invent to create dependency rather than learning good exercise and eating habits, how do you stay motivated to exercise and not turn into a blob of lard?

The same thing sort of applies to music (although I have more talent at that). I'll never be an A-list musician but if I practice my ass off I could be a fairly decent B lister. This means if I went to church - which I don't do (and I don't plan on starting to just to play), I could be in a decent orchestra in a larger church every Sunday if I wanted to give up sleep.

I'm just having difficulties finding motivation to enjoy much of anything right now. I don't have anything to complain about, but I'm fighting that vague sense of dissatisfaction with nearly everything that is always eating away at the edge of my thoughts; its been a part of my personality for so long I just put up with it.

Anyway, I just don't feel like exercising hard anymore.

disneyland

Um, who'd ever thought booking a few days at the Disneyland Grand Californian or Disneyland hotel would be so complicated. Of course, July-August is their busiest time of year... and I am trying to book at the last minute. :-p

the last day(s) of castle carson

Fell on the same day that Nebraska jumped off the Titanic - er what will soon be the late, great Big 12 - for the Big 10. My childhood home (not the true childhood home, it was the 2nd house we lived in, but its the one we moved to when I was 5 in 1966) sold yesterday. The new owner is a house flipper that plans to do a great deal of remodeling and replace the garage that fell down many years ago with a new two car garage. A bit of urban re-homesteading, which is nice.

In the process of deciding what to do with the place I got a lot of advice, and really, the only logical choice was to sell to a flipper. My parents - actually Dad - did very little to the place other than the absolute maintenance that had to be done - roof, new windows, ac/heat aside from ripping off the wallpaper in '66 and installing carpet over the hardwood floors (which, of course, these days, are highly prized, especially in a house built in the 1940s), painting the interior (one time - I kid thee not) after removing the wallpaper, and ripping out the old kitchen in the 1970s and remodeling it.

To be fair, that's not entirely accurate as the "only" things... he put paneling in the big basement room downstairs that eventually ended up being a storage room for all sorts of sundry crap (with the emphasis on the bulk of it being crap - thank you very much A OK Antiques for doing the estate sale and getting that stuff out of there), he put a film editing bench in the basement (where he and some of his friends did a few highlight films for the Iowa State Girls Athletic Association Girls' Basketball Tournament in the 1970s - before videotape killed 16mm film), and did a very minor remodel on the downstairs bathroom (changed the floor linoleum and tiled the walls). 

This may sound like a lot... but for the last decade nothing was done. There were settling cracks in the plaster (gotta love real plaster walls) that were upstairs, the upstairs bathroom was to the point it was needing a remodel, and the entire house needed painting inside and out. There was some dry rot on the outside window sills, and more than likely the new owner will rip out the bushes out front as they got so overgrown that if you trim them back, they'll just be sticks. It will be interesting to see the house listing - this is assuming the flipper doesn't do a custom remodel job and sell it direct to someone - once the house is ready to go on the market. Even though its raining in Des Moines today, I would not be surprised if someone isn't busy ripping carpet out of it right now (although I'll bet they fix the plaster cracks and cosmetics - perhaps even paint the walls - before they rip the carpet and refinish the floors... that would make a lot of sense (and if he's remodeling bathroom(s) I wouldn't pull the carpet off of the stairs until the upstairs bathroom was finished).

Anyway, I would have had to sink at least 20-30K into the place to make it sellable for a bank loan, and try to do the remodel remotely from California is probably not high on the List of Good Ideas.  I sold it in as-is condition, got a fair price, and the flipper should make a good profit. My only regret is that I wish my parents would have taken better care of their house than they did - because they *could* have but chose not to do so, but what's done is done.

Three weeks from today, Davis and Meredith will be here! This, of course, assumes that the standby flight schedule cooperates. I planted the Disneyland hook yesterday. As it stands now, they're here for 3 weeks, while their summer school at St. Mary's is on, but I offered to their mother that I would take them to Southern California for a few days if she wants to pick them up in LA (more flight choices - 4 airports vs. 1 here)... I'd have them stay another week, and take them down either Tuesday or Wednesday to SoCal, we'd get a 3 or 4 day park pass, and also hit the beach. I'll probably rent a car and drive us down... it is a long ways to LA - 8 hours - but by the time you get to the airport - at least an hour ahead, fly, get your luggage, rental car, etc. its a lot easier to fly in some aspects.

I spoke to both of them about it yesterday... Meredith has re-discovered email and I got about 20 replies last night and this morning. Of course, they're jacked about the idea of going to Disneyland LOL - I'll make sure we do it right, you only go to Disneyland for the first time as a child once, and while I'm not going to freak out if things aren't "perfect" I want it to be a good experience for them.

yes, try and run me down in your scary golf cart

Summer has arrived in Sacramento. This means it quit raining and got hotter than hell the day after it quit raining, but with the lovely addition - given that its been a weird Spring that was cooler and wetter than normal - of humidity.

They were carrying dogs out of the Doggy Dash 2010 festival area on stretchers, according to The Blonde. I didn't actually see this... anyway, the short and sweet version of my Race Report is that I ran 5K magnificently for the first 100 yards or so, and then I jogged the rest of it because it was hot, humid (the race didn't start until 9, they should start at 7 this time of year, it would have been 15 degrees cooler) and no one seems to know how to properly run with their dog - particularly those morons that insist on using retractable leashes, which are incredibly dangerous for everyone when you've got a few thousand runners and dogs all moshed together. Whoever thought up the idea of retractable leashes should be found, and then have 6 or 7 of those things wrapped around their neck and then the RETRACT button(s) punched... HARD.

Its actually a great event and the Sacramento SPCA does a great job of putting it on and having all sorts of cool events to watch... you get to see a police dog eat a "perp" (oh, that's fun, its like watching Cops live), the usual plethora of frisbee catching canines, and the Pug Races, and there's all sorts of booths selling food, pet crap, begging you to adopt a pooch (if I had a place to keep a large dog, Tilly, a gorgeous black 4 year lab mix would have come home with me), pet psychics (Mr. Dog apparently is really messed up - he doesn't like being a dog and doesn't identify with other dogs (the two psychics, who were completely across the park from each other and did not appear to be in cell contact with each other agreed on this - but the psychics also told me to apply for the Vancouver job.... hmmm. And I am probably going to apply).

I'm not sure I needed a psychic to tell me that Mr. Dog is weird, because he is, but he does "not like to be jogged." Which does give me an excuse to go get Tilly, or perhaps a Jack Russell terrier mix... hide your shoes and be prepared to deal with a dog that doesn't run but rather teleports between points on the spacetime continuum. BTW, I thought of a couple of great names for a Jack Russell ... either "Rat" or "Crackhead". I also want to name a dog "Dude" but Jack Russells are too goddamned hyper for the simple name "Dude."

And speaking of Dude, the announcer (one criticism - the speakers at the Dash this year on the PA WERE TOO FUCKING LOUD) for the race/event is the Dynamic Radio Voice Guy that also has done Rivercats baseball games - he was telling us at the start - where I'd hurriedly running back'ed my way to the front so I wouldn't get tripped by the dogs - to yell our names... people were yelling their names, he was about 10' from me and when it died down I said "Dude!" and he said "there's this guy here that says his name is Dude." Now, perhaps I should have instead said "Kinnick" since I was wearing my Nike Kinnick (Iowa's football stadium is named Kinnick after the 1939 Heisman Trophy Winner Nile Kinnick), but I thought Dude was more smart-ass. There were no timing chips or even a clock - I had my Garmin (which brings me to the point WTF did we need race #ers then, if you're not going to time it all.. guess they needed you to pay $25 for a t-shirt and sign the "SSPCA is not responsible if you die during this event").

So, the TV cameras were on (they even had a CRANE, sportsfans) and I got all intense with my finger poised on the Garmin in the front row, they did a countdown, and I sprinted away from the start line like I was a Biggest Loser contestant being chased by Jillian with a taser ("I'll bet you can run a block, bitch, if I chase you with this taser!" - yes, I would pay real money to see that. Wait, I'd pay Jillian to chase me with a taser, and I'd even let her tase me. She's hot. Sometimes, love hurts).

I knew there was no way I could hold a sub 5:00 run pace for very long, but that's not the point. Its to look marvelous, which I did, and I led the race for the first 100 yards or so (I had a hell of a lead, actually, it took another 100 for the first runners to catch me. This means that I'm in good enough shape that there's no way a certain Captain could catch me either...) and I eased up just past the camera crane and pulled over to the left side so the faster runners could pass. I hate being caught up in the pack at any race, especially these kind of races where I enter because even though I know there are far fitter people (and their dogs) who are going to have me eating their dust, there are far more *not* so fit people (and their dogs) that are going to be watching my taut metrosexual butt taunt them for the entire race as they vainly try to shake off decades of Doritos in a futile effort to catch up.

The heat was pretty hard on everyone today, I had a few folks pass me that later were walking. But I'm going to quit even trying to make sense of how to race, and I was so tired this morning - I had a hard week at work - that after the first 1/2 mile, feeling how hot it was, and how incredibly congested it was with dogs this year (there were very few solo runners this year compared to when I ran this race in 2008), I said "Screw this, I'm jogging" and that's what I did, and I still beat my run time from Parkway - that is, until the last 1/2 mile when I was weaving through a crowd of dog walkers (brilliantly, the 2K dog walk loop is shared with the run loop at the end) already half-dead from the humidity, and it was impossible to run fast, and I didn't have the way cleared OJ Bronco-like for me...

But I'll digress for a second about retractable leashes and people who don't know how to run with their dog (and chances are they haven't actually jogged the poor dog that much before the race - 5K is a hell of a long distance for a dog to run if its not used to it)... I about got taken down by a 60# mixed breed whose owner let it run BETWEEN my legs where the dog did a FULL STOP to relieve itself. I glared at the dude. I also did not see that dude or the dog after that.

I also want to say - PARENTS - its awesome that your child, who is somewhere between 8-12 years of age, is running with the family hound that weighs more than they do. However, your child is not strong enough or heavy enough to control a completely untrained Bowser and said Bowser is also a tripping hazard for solo runners or other runners that know what they're doing (or not) with their dog.

I am going to suggest that next year SSPCA ask - strongly - that people running with their dog not have retractable leashes. I've also been nearly taken out on the bike trail by those damn things.

Anyway, back to being stuck in the pack the last 1/2 mile - after the earlier near tripping incident, this kind of irritated me - although hell, its a really a dog walk/run race and I shouldn't care, and since the course weaves by the golf course in Land Park, where the announcer told us a few times that "don't take your dog on the golf course or its a $300 fine" - I just couldn't resist being a bit of a jerk and vented my irritation with the General Dumbassedness of Humanity by razzing a couple of 50# overweight golfers - guys probably in their early 30s (speaking of early 30s, I had someone tell me that I looked 32 today :) ) who were putting on the green (and tying this all back together with Jillian) "Hey guys, I don't think Jillian would approve of Budweiser and a golf cart as an acceptable form of exercise!"

I mean, we are trying to stop global warming, some of the electricity that charges up those carts come from fossil fuels, along with the gasoline used to maintain the course... golfers are KILLING OUR PLANET.

(I say this tongue in cheek, the golf course would probably be full of built up condos with no place for the squirrels and birds to live if it weren't a golf course...) Golf is a fun game, especially if you are a bad golfer (like me) and don't take it seriously while you are out there, and even better, if you're not playing, you can ridicule people who REALLY miss their shots and bounce their golf ball at least 50 yards off of the green right in front of you (this happened while I was walking back to my car).

"NICE SHOT!" ;)

ibanez, running, photograys in no particular order

The doofus glasses are here. I have to say its kind of nice, despite their *extreme* dork factor, to have photograys rather than to screw with contacts on the days my eyes feel somewhat gummy. There's not so much humidity out here, so unless I'm really trying to see how hard I can sweat exercising, sliding glasses aren't the problem they've been in other places that I've lived (sweat evaporates rather quickly in the dry (its not arid, but definitely dry) Sacramento clime. So I'm not sure that wearing glasses while running or cycling here is that big of an issue (since I no longer triathlon the swim part... not an issue).

Anyway, the only real reason to wear contacts, anyway, is vanity. It has been nice - since I picked them up yesterday - to not have to carry a pair of sunglasses *and* readers with me when I go out. The acid test was this morning after breakfast ... we took Mr. Dog with us to Cornerstone (ate at an outside table), and then after we hit the farmer's market under the Business 80 freeway, we went over to the dog park at 28th and C by Sutter's Landing. The park is sited on top of the former landfill and they put in crushed granite - sort of an offwhite - as the material for the dog park grounds (it drains well and doesn't have the dust issues that bare dirt would have around here). Anyway, since it is now almost summer here, everything is rapidly turning brown (even though we had a long Spring in terms of rainy days... this is the first year of near normal precip since I moved here in April '07. Folsom Lake is actually almost full and there's still lots of snow on the Sierras (and they were out today) even though its almost June), so the glare sun at the dog park, even though it was barely 10 in the morning, was pretty bad. The photograys performed flawlessly.

But I still feel like a dork. After dog park, we ran up to Roseville and picked up some framing The Blonde had done at Joanne's (pictures from Mom's house that I 'gave' to her - in other words, pictures that she liked that I'm sure Mom would have liked her to have had), and while was in that store, I walked down to The Guitar Center a few doors down and played with some of the shredding guitars they had out with a more powerful version of the Vox modeling amp I have (the 50 watt vs. the 30 watt version).

And I'm still sticking to my story that Ibanez, $ for $, makes the best electric guitar value in the world. I tried a Schecter (a US custom shop that eventually ended up as a front for guitars manufactured in Asia) and while it was OK, it was blown away by a cheaper Ibanez with the Floyd Rose style locking nut/tremelo setup that I tried a few minutes later. I just love Ibanez necks and their guitar setups in general.  Why pay 1000s for a Gibson, or Fender reproduction of a guitar design from the 1950s/60s when you can get a higher quality Ibanez for much, much less ($2500 or more for an ES-335, you can get the same guitar for < $1000 from Ibanez, and it is of higher quality and plays better).

I'm not paid, BTW, to pimp for Ibanez. I simply love their products.

(but hey, if Ibanez *wants* to pay me to pimp their products, I'd be happy to receive an offer I can't refuse).

And we watched Run, Fat Boy, Run tonight. Cute movie, very British in its sense of humor (despite its American Director). But I don't think anyone could train for a marathon in 3 weeks.  I spent summer and fall 2007 training for the '07 California International Marathon, and it was *hard*... I hit the infamous wall right before Watt Avenue on Fair Oaks. God, my feet *hurt* in new and interesting ways. The legs were more or less fine the entire run, but if your feet hurt, they *hurt*.

I keep toying with the idea of running another marathon. Notice I said "toying"...

superman wears number six

My late father and I only saw one football game together... Iowa playing Tulsa in Kinnick in Iowa City in 1997. We saw Superman - Tim Dwight - play. Possibly one of the fastest players in college football in the past couple of generations, and he had a nice pro career...

Tim Dwight Punt Returns

massive doofus alert

This lovely thing called middle age is, of course, a mixed bag of good, bad and indifferent. Studies show that as people approach age 50 you get happier, and I'm pleased to confirm that's pretty much the case for yours truly, sportsfans.

But this whole far sightedness thing sucks. I've had Coke bottle (do they even MAKE Coke bottles anymore?) thick glasses since I've been about 12, and while I improved about a diaopter with this year's exam - first real improvement since I began wearing glasses in 2nd grade - because of the strength of my script, biofocals are hideously expensive. All I have to do to "read" is pull the glasses down on the end of my nose a bit, make me look even more mole and evil scientist like (cool, but not really good for getting chicks that even remotely approach the Megan Fox/Jessica Alba scale of hotness).

When I'm wearing my contacts, I can get by with readers or if I'm lucky, my arms are just long enough that I can hold the print far enough away to see it (in the case of my Mac Book Pro, I just swipe the tiny text LARGER).

I'm vain enough that I continue to screw with the contacts although juggling readers, sunglasses (have I mentioned how goddamned light sensitive contacts make me? No?) and having my glasses handy in case my eyes get irritated by contacts or pollen or alien invasions (always, alas a possibility). Plus when I'm out running or cycling or lounging by the pool, I've got to Look Dynamic and Handsome. Playing guitar... hmmm... if I didn't have a GF I'd probably wear my glasses less...

But there are mornings I want to go to breakfast and read clearly, which means glasses, or a day at work when I have a massive amount of reading to do so glasses are better. However, its usually BRIGHT AND SUNNY HERE IN CALIFORNIA which means either putting on those hideously huge oversize sunglasses over glasses or feeling my way through the environment outside with one eye squeezed shut, stumbling around.

Anyway, I finally decided this weekend, since Costco doesn't make sunglasses and a regular optical shop would change a frickin' fortune for script sunglasses to have some photogray glasses made. Oh joy. I now have something even geekier, possibly here by this weekend. But I'll be able to read at the beach and pool finally... (try slipping a pair of Costco readers under your cool Bolle floatable sunglasses. It doesn't work. It looks even stupider if you put the readers on the end of your nose OVER the sunglasses). So now I'll be a photoelectric effect Mole. Joy.