Runner's duality

Sunday, April 29, 2007

For the Times-Colonist 10k this morning, I had in mind that I would be happy with anything under 35 minutes, given my relative paucity of training and racing this year.  I believe my chip time was 34.59, so that would be sufficient for me to be happy with my run.  However, I think the gun time was a second or two over 35 mins, which on the other hand, renders it sufficient for me to be unhappy with my run.

So here we have an interesting situation where I can oscillate between happiness and unhappiness and live in a sort of "runner's duality", if I may.  In this state happiness and unhappiness co-exist, but potentially collapse to a single state, happiness or unhappiness, depending upon which mode of timing an observer chooses - chip time or gun time.  

This is my ghastly attempt at an example of large-scale quantum duality, which has, on my very elementary understanding of it, not yet been shown to exist on such large scales as every day human experience, but has been shown at the quantum level.  As another example of large-scale quantum duality, the co-existence of my examples as both sane and insane collapse into one or the other, depending upon who you ask.

Aside from my awkward duality, I felt reasonably good during the run, and went out a bit easier than what I'm accustomed to, which was probably a good thing, since had I run too fast off the start I would have paid dearly for it when running into the nasty headwind that slowed most of the times, it seems.  Fortunately into the headwind I was able to tuck in behind Ased and another tall fellow for most of it.  I was unable to share any of the Frontrunning, however, as the legs were  somewhat sapped by then, and Ased would have spat me out quickly if I had done any more than I did.

After the run Cliff, Dave J and I did a cool down and, including my run to and from the start line and warmup, my total on the day was about 17km.  After the cooldown, it was brunch with some of the running clinic folk.  

Aware of the need for increased bike mileage, I then hit the bike for almost two hours, which included 3 repeats up Mt Doug.  The ride felt quite good all around, and my three jaunts up Mt. Doug were hard, but I didn't kill myself doing them.

This awareness of low bike mileage also spurred me to ride yesterday for about 1hr 20 minutes, mostly easily, but I threw in a couple of flat tempo efforts of about 2 minutes each, and one jaunt up Mt. Doug.  I knew this could affect my running time today, but the bike training, as minimal as it was, is at this point more important than ensuring I was fully rested for the 10k. 

Friday I did no training of significance, while Thursday I did about 10k that included 12 x 100m at 18 seconds each.  The idea was to do some race pace training (or a bit faster) while getting plenty of rest between efforts.  I wanted to avoid any longer efforts in order to be at least somewhat rested for today.  Whether it made much difference, I'm not sure.

In any event, the plan is to do the Sidney 18km Time Trial on Tuesday just to see where I'm at on the bike.  It will hurt like heck but with the BC Provincial Duathlon championships in two weeks, it behooves me well to do it.

As a last note, I talked briefly with Graham Cocksedge this morning, who is off in two weeks for the Duathlon World Championships in Hungary, and I wish him all the best.

n is for Number

Wednesday, April 24, 2007

Today I ran for an hour easy up the waterfront, stopped at the gym for 10mins on the erg and 20 minutes on the exercise bike; ran home. 

Yesterday I did no training, aside from a few crunches and push-ups on the carpet of my livingroom.  Instead I took some time to watch a DVD documentary called n is for Number, about the life of Hungarian mathematician Paul Erdos, said to have authored or co-authored some 1300 papers.  As one of the most important mathematicians of the 20th century, other mathematicians and academics are referred to by their "Erdos number", which is akin to the notion that all people in the world are separated by six degrees.

For an Erdos number, Erdos himself would be zero; anyone co-authoring a paper with him (over 200 individuals) would have an Erdos number of one; anyone co-authoring a paper with someone with an Erdos number of one would have an Erdos number of 2, and anyone co-authoring a paper with someone with an Erdos number of two would have an Erdos number of 3.  Apparently most co-authors of papers, at least in mathematics or related areas, can trace Erdos numbers of three.

I myself can probably claim (loosely) to having an Erdos number of four and likely even three.  Having co-authored papers (not published - hence the "loosely") with Gottfried Mayer-Kress, a physicist/kinesiologist from Penn State University who has published roughly 130 papers or conference presentations in quantum physics, chaos theory, and kinesiology - he has likely co-authored with someone who has co-authored with someone who has co-authored with Erdos.

Speaking of numbers,  I chuckled today when I bumped into a friend of mine who was explaining how stressful it had become dating n number of men simultaneously.  I did not ask how many men in total she dated in recent past, considering that I could be counted among them in the not too far gone past.

Again on the subject of numbers, here is an article from the New York Times about the recent mysterious disappearance of tens of billions of honeybees from the food chain.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/24/science/24bees.html?ei=5124&en
=45d47549c4f788cd&ex=1335153600&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink&pagewanted=print

Apparently this is highly important.  An excerpt:

"Honeybees are arguably the insects that are most important to the human food chain. They are the principal pollinators of hundreds of fruits, vegetables, flowers and nuts. The number of bee colonies has been declining since the 1940s, even as the crops that rely on them, such as California almonds, have grown. In October, at about the time that beekeepers were experiencing huge bee losses, a study by the National Academy of Sciences questioned whether American agriculture was relying too heavily on one type of pollinator, the honeybee."
_____

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

-- WB Yeats, The Lake Isle of Innisfree

Weekend roundup

Monday, April 23, 2007

Saturday was the last day of the running clinic.  For it we had the runners do an easy out and back along the lakes for a total of about 8km.  A potluck followed, at which time Guy Dauncey and the group presented Heather, the other run leader for our little group, and me with copies of Guy's book Earth Future, Stories From a Sustainable World.  Guy has written several books and frequently gives presentations around North America on global warming and sustainable communities.  A very nice gift for us.

Later I met Cliff for an interesting workout where we did 5 X 2.5mins at 10k pace/30second-break/30 second at 5km pace, with plenty of warming up and cooling down.  On the last two we pushed the pace faster than 10k/5k pace for the efforts, and I found the last one particularly fast and I really had to extend myself to keep up with a fast moving Cliff.

In the evening I joined Scott and Hannah (who played Iolanthe in our recent performances) to watch Stephanie and her Doukhabour choir perform some traditional Doukahbour/Russian choral pieces.  Some really uplifting music, I found. 

Sunday, I decided it was time for to test the bike legs for something harder than what I've been doing recently, and joined the Burnside group.  There were about 12 who showed, and some had done a hard ride the day before, I think many were not keen on two days of thrashing.  Still, I pulled off the front soon after we began and was joined by Chuck ("the hammer") and Steve Baird, former Olympic swimmer turned fast cyclist, and the three of us did a three-up out to Lands End, holding an even, but hard tempo pace.  We were joined by Andrew Kyle coming the other way near the ferry terminal.  We shut it down through Sidney, and a few of the others caught back up to us at that point. 

At about Michell's farm, I remarked to Andrew that I was counting down the minutes until I bonked, and he kindly pulled out a fruit bar for me.  From the wrapper I could tell it contained nuts, so I politely declined, leaving my body to start some serious dipping into body fats for energy.  By Mt Doug all the others had turned off or slowed down, leaving me to cling to Andrew's wheel.  Finally, I pulled off at Shelbourne while he went up Ash Rd.  I returned home in reasonable condition, fortunately.

Today, I left work a few minutes early in order to help with some rabitting at an elementary school cross-country running meet at Topaz Park.  Carolyn G, a teacher at Macauley was helping to organize, and tracked me down to see if I would assist.  It was great fun, and my first experience rabbitting.  Make no mistake, some of the kids can run fast, especially for the first 300m (total distances were 800m for the first one I did, and 1k for the other two).  I had to work hard to stay ahead of them, and nice to see Cliff's son, Liam, run away from the field of ten-year olds - the boy has some serious talent.

Afterward, I continued on for a loop of Cedar Hill Golf Course and back, which seemed like plenty on the day, after a fairly hard weekend of training.

Divergences, convergences

Friday, April 20, 2007

Indeed the hours for the gypsy cyclist were often spent literally moving forward. So it was a poignant irony that he recalled the calm, unmoving, solitude of the womb while plummeting a descent at nearly sixty miles an hour down some nameless mountainside, his fingers whitened by their grip upon the drops of his handlebars, the enamel of his teeth grinding surfaces to calcium dust while the punished wind sought refuge in the creases of his face.  Below him pavement cast itself like an arching cliff-diver into the air beneath penny-sized surfaces of rubber; to his sides were a sheer drop and a rock face, no white lines to guide the road ahead and if he touched the brakes  the friction would grind the slim remains of brake pads to metal in a cloud of smoking rubber.  Although he had never travelled this road before, there were only a few turns ahead that might force him to decelerate, he convinced himself.

So it was during this time that he recalled vividly the serenity and darkness, the warmth and the liquid comfort of his mother's womb, how his legs were crossed and arms folded under him and his head tilted forward, the occasional muffled sound; the soothing sway of body-in-liquid when his mother walked, the swish of his cord and the nourishment that coursed down through it. 

He recalled how he was like a gyroscope; how he'd adjust his centre of gravity when she lay down, or turned on her side.  Sometimes he would stretch a little, pushing his legs outward, and a hand, or sometimes two, would come down and gently caress the stretched skin that separated the world outside from the tiny one inside.  He remembered the occasional sensation of many hands pressing upon him and how it made him unfomfortable, so he stretched a little more and the muffled sounds of voices would increase in volume - surely it was laughter he heard.

But around him was the resounding proclamation from every physical aspect, all that flung by him in a blur, that to change anything suddenly implied the end of his life.  And through the centre of the storm appeared the gentlest recollection of his life as it began.  Should the convergence of these polarities diverge, to his utter relief, upon his arrival at the bottom of the mountain safely, then what more striking ironies or contrasting circumstances would he encounter along the way?  What more of such divergences and convergences?

crafting craft

Thursday, April 19, 2007

After my wind-sprints yesterday, I could tell my legs needed something gentler than any sort of running, so a couple hours of spinning on the bike was exactly what the doctor ordered.  It wasn't entirely easy to discern what the appropriate attire for such an outing ought to be, given that it was about 11-12 degrees and sunny, but rather breezy along the waterfront, as it ordinarily is in this little region of the world. In addition to leg warmers, I opted for two layers beneath a cycling jersey, a Craft long-sleeve and Craft mesh shirt.  This proved a bit cool along the breezy waterfront, but about right inland a bit, away from the water.

Incidentally Craft has renewed my sponsorship for 2007, but unless I start racing and posting some sort of respectable results, I suspect I'm likely to get nixed for next year.  But we'll see, and I've received some great clothing in the mean-time. 

I don't ordinarily flog sponsors, and they've been pretty few and far between over the years, but I stumbled upon a good recent article about Craft clothing:  See this Craft article (I can't seem to get the link function working, so anyone interested will have to cut and paste the link):

http://www.cyclingnews.com/tech.php?id=tech/2007/reviews/craft_winter_clothing

Craft article

Craft article

Kicks

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Monday night I had a tiny bit of a scratchy throat, so yesterday my run was an easy 50 minutes only.  Hicham and I had planned to hook up, but we missed each other on the connection.

Today I felt better after a good night's sleep, and set out for a few intervals at the Oak Bay track where I did the following workout:

    2 x 1200m in 3:45 and 3:46.  I had thought to do a few more, but I sensed I wasn't going to hold that pace, so decided to drop the distance in favour of maintaining speed.  So the rest of the workout went:

    1 x 800m in 2:27
    1 x 400 in 1:08
    5 x 200 in 33, 31, 31, 31, 29. 

On the last one I was right up on my toes going for broke, kicking for home.  This made it my fastest 200 since grade nine, when I ran one in 27 seconds, good enough for about 6th place out of 8 at the regionals track meet - 23 seconds was the winning time I seem to recall.  Total run distance including running there and back and jogs in between repeats about 13km.

Afterward I stopped in at the rec centre for 5 mins on the rowing machine, which I find a great way to stretch the legs after a running workout, and a few core exercises. 

On another note, I've learned the G&S troupe gets one more kick at Iolanthe as we've been invited by Michael Gormley, a guest conductor with the Victoria Symphony, to perform Act I of Iolanthe at the last show of the Summer Cathedral Concert series on July 14. So, I'll need to keep on top of those songs for a while longer.  We won't be doing any dialogue - just singing.  It might be a bit stressful working under a different music director, and there will only be two rehearsals.  But I might as well take any opportunities that come my way - who knows, the lead roles may not come again.

two pics

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Unfortunately, this is not working well.  The process of posting these photos has taken longer than most ordinary people have the patience for, but here a couple of shots of the Sooke race to start - hopefully I can get a few more up at some point.  I was also thinking about re-posting a few of my past favourites, but they were coming up a gazillion times the size of my computer screen, so I'll have to re-size them. 

Sandi Heal at the start

Nick Walker, quickly off the front (under the armpit, from the bike)

An odd encounter

Monday, April 16, 2007

Feeling somewhat fatigued from riding to and from Sooke to assist our IRR club with the 10km race it organized yesterday, on top of a relatively full week of training, I did no training today and instead indulged immediately after work in watching a few minutes of the Pais de Vasco stage race in Spain on cycling.tv.  This was sufficiently soothing to lull me to sleep for about 45 minutes. 

Falling asleep while watching the Pais de Vasco was perhaps forgivable after watching over two hours of coverage of the Paris-Roubaix yesterday, a 257km race known as the Queen of the Classics, and the Hell of the North.  The Paris-Roubaix is the most prestigious and feared of all the one-day cycling classics and features over 50km of bone-jarring cobblestones, won this year by Australian Stuart O'Grady in just over six hours.

Later, after shaking the blearedness from my eyes I hastened out to eat at Lifestyles, as I often do.  I find their food to be of good quality and relatively inexpensive. 

Setting down my rice bowl and chicken, a woman at the table across from me asked, "Do I know you from somewhere?" I did not recognize her. [Note that in the following discussion, I've taken some liberties with the exact words that were exchanged].

"I'm not sure," I said. "Do you work at one of the government ministries downtown?" I asked.

"No," she said.

"Are you a runner, perhaps?" I asked.

"Mmm, no."  The possibilities were diminishing rapidly.

"Ok, maybe you watched the Gilbert & Sullivan performance, Iolanthe?"

"Well that's it!" She said. "I came to watch one of your rehearsals - not one of the dress rehearsals, just one of the ones at the New Horizons hall in James Bay.  I was a bit put off by the faeries though - was a bit too close to casting spells and that sort of nonsense."

This was interesting.  "Oh?" I said, "What was the problem with that?" I asked.

"I have read there are many people in Victoria practicing witchcraft, and go so far as to involve human sacrifice.  If you knew what goes on, you might be afraid to go out in public." 

"Well," I replied, undaunted. "I once knew a Wiccan priest - occasionally stay in touch with him.  I think he liked Wiccan practices because he was once a man of the theatre, but never really took it seriously, " I said. "Besides, it all seems pretty innocent to me. Are you talking about Wiccan style witchcraft, that involves the worship of mother earth and nature generally, as I understand it, or are you talking about Satanic worship?"

"There's a fine line between them," she said. 

Continuing, she said, "I think there's a reason for everything.  Do you mind if I join you?"

"Please do," I said.  "Sometimes I think that there's a reason for everything, and then other times I think everything is strictly coincidental; there is really no 'reason' for anything." 

Momentarily she re-located seats.

"Well, I think there's a reason I encountered you," she continued. "And that is because I need to share with you that there are many evil spirits in the world, and that you must accept Christ in your life so that you will not be among them."

There are many people who would have ended the conversation there, and later she admitted she rarely discusses these things with anyone, especially strangers.  But I am usually interested in all variety of perspectives, and often find I can become involved in interesting discussions along these lines if the opportunity arises.

"Why do you think that is necessary?" I asked. "Why could I not in principle follow basic Christian teachings - the same as ones that are advocated by many different religions - try as best as I am able to live a Christ-like life, knowing how impossible that really is, but to try every day to be accepting, forgiving and kind - as hard as it can often be? What more can we ask for?"

"No, you must say the words - you must say out loud that you want Christ, your lord and saviour, in your life." 

"Why, though?" I asked. "Does the fact that billions of people around the world do not do this condemn them to hell?  Surely there must be principles of human behaviour, our relationships to each other which allow us to be connected most closely and, in practicing these principles we foster the equivalent of a 'Christian' life and a 'God-person' relationship."

I listened intently as she went on at some length about differences between Christianity and other religions. "Besides, I know of Christian miracles that have been performed, " she said.  "There are documented cases of miracles performed because of faith and the healing powers of Saints.  These can only be achieved by sincerely inviting Christ in your life." 

"What miracles?" I asked.   "I really don't believe physical miracles are possible.  Physically it is impossible to turn water into wine.  But miracles are possible in how we perceive the world.  We can change how we see ourselves and our place in the world.  And if we can do that, then physical miracles are no longer needed.  For example, if I had lost both my legs, and sat despairing in a wheel chair, would I ask for a miracle to get my legs back, stand up and walk?  Or would I ask for a change in how I perceived myself and my place in the world, what I could still achieve with what I had and how I lived my life from that point forward?  What is easier, and what makes more sense?  And if I've transformed my outlook and attitude, then do I really need my two legs back?"

"But," she said, "I know of documented cases in which people have been healed from debilitated states.  There are spiritual miracles, like what you are talking about, but there are also physical miracles."

"But I am a skeptic of physical miracles." I said. "Perhaps people can be healed spontaneously, or be alleviated from physical suffering.  There may be medical/biological reasons for this, and so to me would not be miraculous.  To me true miracles do occur, but they are miracles in how we deal with suffering, changes in attitude, or how we relate to people.  They can be small miracles when we've summoned the courage to say we're sorry, or that "it is ok", or that we forgive others.  These are small miracles that occur almost every day, or they can be more significant miracles, when we've transformed from long-term despair or suffering or anger into acceptance and  understanding, or simple ones that allow us to accept the changes in our own bodies as we grow older.  If we can do those things, and they are often not at all easy, but if we can -- then why would we want a physical miracle?"

"Well," she continued. "It sounds like you are on the fence.  You still must say the words, and ask for Christ in your life.  I don't even know your name, but you could do it right now - you could say the words right now, and I wouldn't tell anyone.  It could be our secret."

"The process happens everyday," I said.  "It's about the process, and not the words.  It is a continuous process, and the same one that billions of people around the world undergo everyday." 

"Well, then," she said. "If you will not do it for yourself, then I will pray for you," she said. 

"Thank you," I said.  "That is very kind of you."

Lifestyles was closing.  We walked out together, and we introduced ourselves. "Nice to meet you Hugh," she said.  "I will pray for you." 

"Thank you," I said.  "It was nice to meet you too."  

It was an odd but interesting encounter and, while I do not feel a need to continue that conversation, there was a compelling mutual satisfaction and benefit in our exchange.  Perhaps neither quite understood the other's perspective, but two strangers sat and shared some thoughts and listened to each other for a short time, and there is always satisfaction in that.

update

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Short update of training for the week:

Saturday: easy running with run clinic; we had them do 3X1 mile on the Claremount track near Elk Lake. I remained afterward to do 10 x 400m repeats with 90s rests: 75s, 74, 74, 72, 72, 72, 72, 70, 69, 68.  Legs felt a bit tight from workouts in previous days, but recovery between repeats was good, and heart and respiration rates seemed to drop very quickly.  In the afternoon I was on the bike for 1hr 20 of easy spinning in cold, windy, conditions - I could have sworn a snowstorm was a-brewing.

Friday: 1hr 10 easy running, with a stop at Oak Bay rec for 10mins on rowing erg, and core exercises.

Thursday: 1hr running including 2 x10mins at 5km race pace - ran into Dave J just returning from his 12X400 workout at 65s pace.  Stopped at Oak Bay for a few mins on rowing erg and core exercises.

Wednesday: 1hr 50 on bike at fast pace, but not tempo.  Pedal stroke felt smooth, and generally I felt strong.

Tuesday: no training.

Check out Gutenberg at the HelpDesk :

http://www.boreme.com/boreme/funny-2007/introducing-the-book-p1.php

Sarana

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

When the gypsy cyclist was very young, perhaps four or five years old, in the afternoons after returning from kindergarten, he would seek the company of a neighbourhood girl about his age, and they would play together in the sandbox near her house. 

Sarana was her name: a most unusual name and the gypsy cyclist was far too young to think on how unique and beautiful was this name.  But in later years, sometimes he would think about her and wonder at her name, for he had encountered no woman of that name since.  With a little research, he found variously that it had origins in India or Indonesia, or that it appeared in the texts of Scandinavia and Finland in particular, but there were African and Australasian references too. 

Such diversity suggested to him that it was an ancient name, and for the few times that she and he played in the sandbox when they were four or five, he imagined that beneath her green eyes and tanned complexion was a mysterious genetic construction that spanned the planet in recent generations, and perhaps one grandfather was Sri Lankan, the other Russian; one grandmother Finnish and the other Arab; her mother Moroccan and her father Maori.

Perhaps it was far less exotic than this, but for every memory of her beauty was a history and a universe for which neither possessed the capacity to explore.  There were no words for questions or statements much beyond "what is your name?" when they first met,  and "I will dig this hole here, if you push some sand here," after they had become friends; or "the sand is very wet and cold today, but mommy said it was ok to play with you, if your mommy says it is ok too."   And the gypsy cyclist remembered clearly how Sarana, looking down, seeming to consider whether it mattered what her mother thought, said only, "I am ok with it," and he said he was too.

But when the gypsy cyclist considered the mystery of her name, he seemed to forget the beauty of her presence.  Where is Sarana? he thought.  After decades of time and all the gatherings and the partings, the desperation I have felt, the judgments I have wrought on so many, and the judgments many have wrought on me -  where is Sarana?

No, there is no mystery in the complexity of her name, for when I was four or five I did not care to learn the answers to that mystery. If only, he thought, here and now I could see Sarana in every person I meet, then the mystery would fade and vanish beneath all the past, the present and the future.

Level sands; countless crossings

Tuesday, April 11, 2007

The ruins of ancient Egypt or of Greece, or any similar monuments to unageing intellect (as W.B. Yeats would say) beckon the modern traveller largely because they are windows into the astonishing achievements of civilizations that preceded ours and which set the foundation for who we are today.

But such ruins also represent the culmination of the activities of thousands whose sum total configurations of physical movement resulted in the structures that remain today.  So we may consider how the remains represent the physical actions of the people who created them: the ruins are an imprint of the countless winding and crossing paths that every burdened labourer took; every skyward glance engineers and architects took and the movements of their hands on the papyrus or clay on which they scrawled their notes; the foremen's hands that gestured the location of every stone or wooden strut and the instructions they shouted, eliciting eye contact from the mason acknowledging the necessary realignment of his stone; those who brought the labourers water and food, and who perhaps laughed and cajoled during their mealtimes or were all too weary or broken to partake of such social luxuries. 

Thus out of the network of crossing paths, vastly more intricate than a ball of yarn -- like a patchwork, decades long, of invisible human crossings, drawn out and pulled taught at its edges -- in the centre a pyramid or a parthenon arises.

So the monuments that remain are more than keys to knowledge we may gain of the past: they immortalize the actions of those who created them, while the mastermind who ordered their creation is largely meaningless.  Certainly the names of the pharoahs follow the wonderful pyramids, and it was the pharoah's vision, presumably, that set their creation in motion; but it was every action of every hand and foot that moved and travelled the countless crossings to erect the structures, and it is their actions that are palpable when we see the ruins that remain.  

At least this was what overwhelmed me when watching two Imax films this evening regarding the ruins of Greece and the adventures of the Nile.

Today there was no training - a rest day after a relatively vigorous weekend.
________
...
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

    Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley

Formulating

Monday, April 9, 2008

Another Easter long weekend closes and, as is often the case, it feels neither long enough nor sufficiently well-spent toward the achievement of several objectives.  But there was some training, both running and cycling that included, beginning Saturday, only the 12km of running with the run clinic; on Sunday a 5 X 3 minute 5k pace tempos with a very fit Cliff; and today an easy run with Scott Simpson, and an hour on the bike later on my own. 

There was also some socializing that included my rendition of six verses of Amazing Grace at dinner yesterday for a packed house of seven; one breakfast at Floyds; one dinner at Vista 18; one view of the movie 300 with Scott V that inspired me, if nothing else, to work my abdominal muscles much more assiduously -- possibly 300 additional crunches per week; one visit with Bruce and baby Sophie; one coffee with Cliff after our 5X3.   For the longest time the weekend was open on the social front, but filled rapidly in the end. 

There was a little reading: my stats course, some re-reading of parts of the Origins of Virtue; the Discover science magazine, the subscription for which was sent from sister Kathryn as a Christmas gift.  There was a little napping; a little reviewing of the movie West Side Story and signing up for an audition on June 2 for a role in the Victoria Opera Society's upcoming production of it, despite some reticence in actually desiring a part in it; a little watching of videos, in particular the movie The Prestige, which might require a re-watch to see what sleight-of-hand I missed.

Now there is little left but a lot of fatigue.  Four days have past: one warm; and three cold, wet and windy; and work beckons again tomorrow.  I am now beginning to consider that I will want some real holidays soon, but have not yet determined when.  The formulation for that determination begins very soon.

Resurrection?

Sunday, April 8, 2007

Seems like time for an update after a few days absent blogdom.  I almost can't remember what of any significance has occurred in the last few days aside from perhaps my first double training day on Friday when I went for a 20k run (1:23) at a comfortable pace and a couple of hours on the bike afterward with Chris Lamb at an easy pace.  Chris is building bike fitness gradually after recently returning to Victoria and completing a Masters degree in physiotherapy.

After this longer training day, which I am currently unaccustomed to, my legs felt good. Since then, however, some delayed soreness has afflicted me after yesterday's run clinic, despite it being very easy for me; this soreness might render my tempo intervals with Cliff this afternoon somewhat uncomfortable.

At work it did not take long for my plate to begin filling up after a couple of transition days, which is good. It appears that in addition to some expropriation-related work and miscellaneous files, I'll be involved in freedom-of-information cases and hopefully a short term major research project involving civil disobedience.

In the meantime, I have been working on a statistics course, and am using it as a bit of test of my motivation for some more involved part-time studies.  If I can get through this distance education course through Athabasca University -- which appears to be one of the more difficult ones of a Law, Governance and Management degree (one of those programs that suits to a tee anyone with ambitions in the public service; and a two year program after applying my existing schooling as credit) -- then I foresee the ability to commit to a full part-time program.

But whether I can sustain the effort while working and trying to train to some reasonable extent (and possibly another musical/operetta production later) remains to be seen.  Historically, I lack motivation for self-directed course-work (unlike my athletic endeavors, for which I find it easy to self-motivate) and usually require some sort of class-room setting to help my goal-setting.  Regardless it seems a good time in my life to take on such a program, given my present circumstances and the fact that I am far less concerned about achieving athletic goals then I have been in the past - a sign of an aging physiology and acceptance of that fact. 

Should I undertake this program, it will likely mean setting aside two or three papers that are currently unfinished for more years. This is an interesting conundrum, since one must weigh what is important for one's career (a specific degree) against what is intrinsically important to one's sense of contribution to new knowledge (namely research into the complex dynamics of pelotons that has already been recognized as valuable, but remains incomplete), but one can also bear in mind they are ultimately mutually beneficial. 

Whatever the case, on this Easter weekend, time marches on and every day we must resurrect anew.

________

...
   Would they sing one mathematical melody
   The most beautiful and the last
   Reduce to one formula themselves and all the stars,
   Transform and emerge immortal at their bodies' end?
...
   More pebbles in the pillars
   Of another desolate dispensation,
   For what fallacy to think that vanity
   Was weaker than resurrection!

       -- ht, Borgesian Recursion

April will not be the cruellest of months

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Stories travel quickly among members of the Gilbert & Sullivan society.  At the cast party on Sunday, Adrian and Elizabeth Sly handed out the "Willaloo awards" (willaloo being words sung by the fairies near the end of the performance), presented to recent members of the troupe. These "awards" are really only comical descriptions of some characteristic of the recipient.  

My "award" read as follows:

  
    "Our next Willaloo goes to a relative newcomer to our stage.  This person is one of the most         physically fit people in our entire country, a person with great determination and personal             courage as seen in his portrayal of a shepherd lad and half a fairy.  It is not many people who     would own up in public to being half a fairy.  However - in spite of his obvious elevated qualities, a certain vanity did show itself on occasion.  This person was not so sure his jacket "suited" him as he felt he appeared a little fat in it so he decided to leave it in his dressing room.  Of course this vainness did not escape the beady eye of our Costume Designer who, on learning of this, became apoplectic, having spent over 400 hours on said jacket so every susbequent performance saw our hero suitably attired in his full costume and mighty fine he looked too. 
    Our next Willaloo goes to..."

Yes, this is a true story, aside from the 400 hours bit - that was the total Norma spent on all the costumes.  After hearing of this Stephanie remarked to Scott, "It's his first show, and he's a prima donna already."  I must relate, however, that Scott assisted me in my predicament by altering said jacket with safety pins to fit better, and he provided a nice brown leather belt to wear during opening night, which is what prompted Norma, our costume designer, to alter it herself.  After it was altered to fit me better, I wore it without complaint for the rest of the shows.

On a related note, I haven't yet begun to experience post-performance blues, but it may set in soon.  I noticed today that even after not singing since our two performances on Saturday, my voice seems rough and it seems like I'm already losing the "peak" I'd achieved last week.   I sense that if I do not keep up practicing in some disciplined way, I will lose much of what I have achieved.  I suppose the main thing at this point is to take a break from it, and then in a week or so to reassess what I want to do next.  Some have suggested I audition for West Side Story, as auditions are approaching soon, though I'm not sure when yet.  However, if I'm asked to dance at the audition  and a lot of emphasis is placed on that, then I could be out on my ears pretty quickly.  But I'll give it some thought.  Aside from that, G&S will do a Sooke and Saltspring Island tour in the fall consisting of a mixed bag of material, and I may audition for a short piece in that.  Auditions for next year's production, Patience, will be held in October, and I may like to go for a lead part in that. 

On the training front, I rode for an hour this evening, after running for 35 minutes yesterday with 10minutes at tempo, following on an hour of running on Sunday.  It was nice to catch up a bit on Sunday with mom and Brock, and to drive them to the airport on Monday.

As of Monday I returned to the Attorney General for work, and am in a short period of transition as I meet with the various lawyers to determine what work I will be undertaking.  So, April 2007 is proving to be a month of significant transitions for me.

______

April is the cruellest of months, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

    -- from The Wasteland, by T.S. Eliot

What a run!

Saturday, Sunday morning April 1, 2007

What a fantastic run we had!  Six shows are now complete, and aside from a small timing gaff from me in the second duet this evening, from my own perspective it was nearly flawless besides.  Another small gaff in this afternoon's show, and that was otherwise excellent too.

After starting nearly from zero a few short months ago, it is truly fantastic that I've accomplished so much in so little time, and I am excited beyond words.  Thanks so much to Mom and Brock for being there this afternoon, and Demian, Bruce and Elizabeth; this evening to Hicham and Jaymie
and her brother; to John and Hillary; Clive, Roger and Kerri; Jennifer and Marquise and friend; Jamie and Rachel; Doug and Jennifer; Rob and Janine; and others from the AG, and to whoever else I may not have seen or known was coming.  There were many at the Sidney performances too, and I am so grateful they could come.  Thank you everyone! This has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

It is late now and I am nearly exhausted after a full day of two shows that began with a 40 minute run in solitude and brunch later with Mom and Brock and Harold and Nancy.   I will have more words to offer on this all soon.