Secret Underwater Base

If this is life.... we're already dead

2007-11-25T21:08:00.000-08:00

Reflecting back on a year ago ... must be the weather, the light and the lack thereof. Winter slammed the door on the sun, must be the changing of day light savings time. I think it happened later this year. Don't really pay attention to that anymore, the time just changed on its own. Time has a way of doing that ... whether you pay attention or not, it changes.

The last few months flew by. Was buried deep in projects, and probably spent too much time underneath their shadows. Was thinking today about New Years. Not so much about Jan 1, but the silly resolutions that everyone saves until that day... And once they slip up on those resolutions, they have nearly a full year before they have to subject themselves to change again.

I remember writing on here that I needed to take more photos. I remember writing that I needed to blog more. I remember writing that I need to podcast more. I remember writing.... I miss writing.

Remembering back a year, and it doesn't seem like a year ago. A lot has changed, and so many of those changes have been amazing. Always learning, always pushing the limits....

But there aren't 30 hours in a day. Need to step back from pushing so hard sometimes. Need to capture the moments as they pass, because they'll pass whether you're watching or not.

So here's take 2 on those resolutions. Here's to a happy new year...

Rock.me Amadeus!!

2007-09-16T22:18:00.001-07:00

Its been awhile since i posted any fresh sounds... and this post is more of a call to the future. Mark your calendars for September 18th (yes, that is tomorrow)... and get ready to rock.

Rockme.dium is a five-day online music festival bringing together five kick-ass rock bands and their fans to meet and interact in a unique online social setting. RockMe. will be the first-ever Online Mosh Pit! They've got some bad-ass bands lined up, including:

The Fiery Furnaces
Jeffery Lewis Band
Gosling
the willowz

My friend Corey is helping throw this thing together, and everything she does is totally badass. So make sure to check it out.

RockME.dium

RAWK

Not quite wings, but good enough for me

2007-08-27T11:29:00.000-07:00

Quick post - only because in light of the recent struggles on the road, i want to document this. this is partially a sweatblog after all.

Saturday night was hot. not oven hot, more like sauna hot. dripping hot. hazy hot. can't quite get a full breath of air hot. And i knocked down 10 miles. First four were on pace, not quite race pace, but i think i mentioned, it was beyond-race-pace hot. Found my dad out on his 12 miler as we circled the moonlit point at RMC, so I logged 4 slower miles with him to pace him home, and then shot out to try to hit two on race pace to finish the night. came close, 7:49 and 8:05.... good enough for me.

Sunday night was a better temp. Went out earlier than usual, because I had ideas of running to the trails. From the height of the setting sun, I realized I had no chance of knocking down the 5 miles to get TO the trails, with enough remaining light to get me through one loop of the forest, let alone to guide me on the 5 miles of busy road to get home. So I went as far west as I could, before doubling back east, along the water front the whole way... looped the point, up a gnarly rock cut, and then slogged home. I have this weird habit now, of not finishing my run at home. The last miles home always seem to be the worst, so I subconsciously try to trick my brain into feeling like the run is finishing sooner than it should, by adding enough miles to finish up somewhere else. End result, a 20 miler, completed in about 2:54.

Legs today feel really good.

I hadn't really told anyone, that this weekend was really a test to see if I would be ready to run the marathon in Oct. We'll see how I feel tonight on a 3 mile recovery - but for now, I passed the test. Still on target for Oct 14; my return to PEC.

Update from summer

2007-08-25T07:49:00.000-07:00

So it has been awhile since I posted here. Been working a lot, and I've really found that Twitter is an easier vehicle for blogging when I don't feel like sitting down and hammering out a post.

So what has happened since last post... way back in June.

Barry Bonds hit 755, 756, 757, 758, 759, 760, and now 761. I was surprised and disappointed by my lack of reaction to it. I could've blogged about it, gone on a long-winded rant full of twisted analogies and pastoral allusions - but I didn't really feel like it. I didn't feel like anything. I didn't care. I wanted to care, hoped I would be enraged and disgusted, hoped that fans would boo at the top of their lungs - but instead - Barry Bonds passed number formerly known as the greatest record in all of sports passed eachother like two ships in the night. If a home run record falls, and all credibility is long-gone, does it make a sound? the answer was no.

The Tour de France was full of dopers. Still engaging and super-human levels of effort, endurance and motivation bordering on psychosis... but, again, in the context of Bonds, McGwire, Vick, and Donneghy - the flavour is gone. Someone asked me how I would feel if they were all doping and I didn't know it. Would I rather have a sport that was clean and less "exciting", or one that was exciting, but secretly dirty. My first (and most people's) first reaction is the former. We want our athletes to be clean and pedestrian. We want to sense that maybe, in some odd twist, we could be competing as well. We want to feel sameness. But looking back, I have already watched the tour when everyone was doping, and I didn't know it. And it was exciting as hell. But now that Adam has eaten the Apple, and Vino has injected, that era of dirty innocence is lost. I'm not saying that I don't want to know, but part of me just doesn't want to know.

Training has been less than optimal. Heat and humidity, combined with allergies led to a brief bout of overtraining I think. I stopped halfway through one particularly torturous workout, took my 4 years worth of PHE to heart, and walked home. I locked my shoes in a closet for 5 days, to let my body figure itself out. And it did. Still dealing with some lingering hamstring tightness, but I have been getting my quality workouts done this week. The junk mileage isn't as high as it should be, but the long runs are there. Big test will be this weekend- 10 today and 19-20 tomorrow. Yikes.

On the music front, I have been rocking:

Better Than Ezra - How Does Your Garden Grow?
Matthew Good - Hospital Music
David Usher - Strange Birds

and some gnarly mash-ups, including Girl Talk and a slick new mix of Kanye and Biggie - Stronger vs Goin Back To Cali.

MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

2007-06-12T16:31:00.000-07:00

The only transformers theme that matters

Ghosts

2007-06-05T22:20:00.000-07:00

Spent the night chasing ghosts. Silly ghosts that live in PHP... and would play nice with Firefox, but haunted the inhabitants of Internet Explorer'ville endlessly. Probably a good thing, because those inhabitants deserve to be haunted - forever, for all of the grief they have caused me.

But these ghosts needed to be eliminated. Initially, it seemed like a playful ghost, something that could be fixed with a few little changes - Slimer. A couple hours later, it felt like the Stay-Puff Marshmallow man.

Then, like Egon Spengler (i'm not gonna google it. i'm trusting my memory), Nan showed up with some good ideas. We crossed the streams, and hopped into Ecto-One.... and then it was fixed.

Take that ghost.

Its cold tonight. Like 10C cold. Just checked Dashboard. its 7C cold. Last weekend felt like August, now it feels like October. Seems like summer just disappeared. That fleeting feeling will come too soon - no need for it now. Reminded me again, to stop chasing ghosts, and spend more time lying in the grass. Ghosts are afraid of the grass, and the sun, and park benches under trees.

The weather and all of this talk of metaphysical ghosts makes me feel like reading Pirsig again. Maybe I will.

Bring on the weekend

2007-06-02T08:47:00.000-07:00

This weekend is gonna be good. Not sure why yet. Beautiful weather and nothing planned.

Started this morning with the Beastie Boys vs Ratatat..... So smooth

Maybe I'll buy some furniture. Or write some PHP. Or do laundry.

#54962E

2007-06-01T13:53:00.001-07:00

Today has been a day of daydreaming. My focus is off, but not entirely. Just like I could tweak the aperture and keep everything sharp if I wanted... but I have chosen not to.

Everything has sort of gone past in a blur. Got a lot accomplished on the DGCC project, but I'm more motivated to stare at the wall.

Went for a walk at lunch, and saw someone lying in the grass. I think they were reading a book. They might have been pretending.

I sat down on a bench, and thought about continual reinvention. If you're not always changing, you're staying the same.

Then I decided to listen to Bright Eyes for the rest of the day. And drink Arizona Green Tea.

Post Marathon High

2007-06-01T09:50:00.001-07:00

To respond to Alex's comment on the previous entry - yeah, the marathon was an overwhelming success. There's something truly addictive about a sport that lets you learn so much from experience. Although I don't feel that I am in the same condition I was in last spring, and certainly the weather this year was 100% ideal, compared to last year's hell on earth experience... the fact that I have now surrendered enough testosterone to run even splits made this marathon seem, I dare say, easy.

The weather was beautiful. For a runner. Overcast, dark skies, with the temperature hovering around 16C. I set out at my goal pace, around 7:40 min/mile, and I stuck with it. So often, when someone of seemingly lesser ability springs past you in the early stages - the temptation is to chase. After all, chasing is what got us to this point in our evolutionary path. If you couldn't chase, you didn't live.

In my brief history as a distance runner, chasing has led to death. If you chased, you barely finished.

I placed my trust in time. SO often I have heard the adage: "seconds at the start turn into minutes at the finish"... I have spent numerous hours listening to Steve tell me to slow down, enjoy the scenery, and remember the faces of those spry chasers when they sprint past, because you will see them in pain towards the finish.

This time, I followed everyone's advice.

The miles flew past.. Technologie got me through it. iPod, GPS, and well, Technologie (more on this later).

Points of the course that seemed endlessly awful last year, went by too fast. I was admiring the trees, awed by waterfalls, smelling flowers and enjoying the faces in the crowds.

A light sprinkling of rain began around mile 18; a welcome addition to the natural air conditioning of the day. Helped to wash the salt from my eyes.

Mile 20 came and went without notice. How disgusting is that. And so did its closest friends, 21, 22 and 23. At that point, the full marathon merged with the half, and the roads were full of people.

The final 3 miles were about surging ahead - because at mile 23, you're allowed to chase. Pick a coloured shirt up ahead, and tie a rope around them. With each step, pull them closer. Each coloured shirt was a distraction, leading to the demise of miles 24 and 25.

And then there was just over a mile to go.

And that distance disappeared as well. Mile 26 melted away in 7:35.

The sprint to the finish was a blur. No crawling allowed. Final time: 3:28:15. A new PR.

After everything in the last year... surgery, no job, new job... it could not have been more of a success.

Whats next?

And then there were two days left

2007-05-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

17 weeks down, 2 days to go. Sunday marks my second run at Ottawa, the race that brought me to my knees last spring. Its also the first marathon since my appendectomy, so it will be a great feeling of redemption to cross the finish line.

Been working a lot lately, but part of that work included a week long sojourn to California, where I filled my head with new ideas for 4 days, and then rolled with Chazzy for 2 days.

By the time I got home, spring had sprung... the trees still look strange with leaves on them. For some reason, this winter tricked me into thinking that trees never had leaves, and the overwhelming green is always a shock when I look outside. The view from the home office is incredible in this weather... Now i just need a couch to sit on, so I can stare into the ether.

Been working too much lately. Not complaining, just a statement. Lots of projects on the go, and each one of them is worthwhile, but I've gotta learn to do nothing. Even for a second.

Musically, my headphones have been exploding lately with the sounds of Feeder. The greatest hits disc packs everything into a tasty, pop package, rife with riffs. Buck Rogers.

I have a 500GB LaCie disk on order, with the new AirPort Extreme base station ready and waiting. Can you say home network media center?

Too many toys, not enough furniture.

Watch this space. TECHNOLOGIE is coming.

Allegro (I hate running where there are lots of buildings)

2007-04-22T21:47:00.000-07:00

Awesome Sunday... and most of it was spent outside. even better.

Woke up and Chazzy reminded me that it was Earth Day - well, he showed me the Google Doodle, and that reminded me.

I was supposed to do work today, like real work... but when the sun shines, and adventure lies outside the house, if work doesn't get done, maybe thats a good thing. Barely watched any of the NBA playoffs... barely saw any pixels on a computer screen... barely saw the inside of the house. CC always talks about these "away from technology" days, and man, it felt good. Definitely gonna do it more often.

M and I grabed rakes, and ho's (insert Don Imus joke here... ) and went to town on the disaster that is the backyard of the meth lab. Years of being ignored turned it into a briar patch of raspberry vines (thorned tentacles of death if you ask me), dead grass, dead trees and general broken-down things. Put in a solid afternoon of it, and it looks somewhat respectable now. A trip to purchase green, pretty, flowery things will make it look that much better.

Then I washed off most of the mud, cleaned up my raspberry thorn wounds, and took off on a 20 miler. Felt great, used CarbBOom gels instead of Accel, and they were so much more palatable. I'd link to CarbBoom, but its late, and you can google search it instead.

20 miles in 2hrs 44 min. 4-5 miler scheduled for tomorrow at noon... will be good to stretch out tired legs and brighten up my day.

I Feel Fine

2007-04-15T22:46:00.000-07:00

Wasn't going to post tonight, but tonight is one to remember.

Rained all day today. Rained for 80% of Saturday. Grey skies have become the norm for the last few weeks (literally), and I am stunned when I see the sun - If only for a second.

That Black Lab lyric that came through so clearly on this week's episode of Phedippidations really sums up the state of the union right now: "I can't see the sun anymore, but I don't mind, you're by my side, and I feel fine."

The "I feel Fine" bit is starting to wear a little thin. The forecast is calling for the sun to break through on Friday of this week... and if not, I'm just going to break down and sue. I'm going to sue the weather network. I'm going to sue Al Gore. I'm going to sue Mother Nature... because this ain't right.

Today's rain stimulated a day of couch surfing. Watched two horrible basketball games, and then caught up on some TV shows (Lost and Jericho). Before I knew it, it was 10pm... and as I went to slowly get my running gear together, my iPod battery was flat. Left it to charge, hoping the rain would miraculously let up.

By 11pm, it was charged enough - and I ventured out, for what I had bargained down to a few miles. It was supposed to be 12 miles, but my mind had decided that I had a slight hamstring pull and that my soleus was tight. My throat had made up a dry feeling, bordering on what some might consider to be the early stages of the signs of oncoming illness. My stomach felt too hungry to run 12 miles. And I think my dog had eaten my homework. Excuses ruled the day. And it wasn't raining anymore... it was snowing. It really was.

I started out, and before I knew it, 10 miles were in the books. I pushed on, ice pellets stinging my eyes and face. I was soaked to the core, my hands too cold to move. As my Garmin beeped for the 12th time, I killed all the music. I walked home, staring at the snowflakes in the against a blue black sky.... like frozen fireflies dancing in the rising mist. The streetlights cast an awful glow against the wet asphalt, but its lonely orange colour, was reminiscent of that burning star that has forsaken us for so many weeks.

I still can't see the sun, but I'm alright, and I feel fine.

Slow Down!

2007-04-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

Next time I ever start to think that my old shoes are still comfortable - shake me until I come to my senses. The next time I wax philosophic about the worn treads being one with the pavement, the holes in the upper allowing the shoes to breathe like a true organism, or make a witty homophonic comparison of soles and souls (no, the homophone is not some metrosexual version of the iPhone.... look it up).... remind me...

My new shoes have wings. I swear.

5 mile run tonight, and it was a struggle to keep my splits slower than 7:30/mile

I <3 Mizuno Wave Creation 7

One week later

2007-04-07T16:54:00.000-07:00

What a differnce a week can make. Last week, I was in the midst of the inpenetrable blahs of a recovery week, and this week is cruise control. I shouldn't speak too soon, as most of my mileage is ahead of me, but so far - things are looking up.

5.5 miles on Monday, a 10 miler on Tuesday (6 with flicker), 5 on Wednesday, and an endorphon laced 45 minute tempo on Thursday. The weather has been as bad as was advertised... cold and rainy. The average high for this time of year is 10 C, and we're sitting at a balmy -2 C. Hey Al Gore .... I believe you and everything... but send some of your warming this way.

10 miler on tap tonight, which will take place indoors. New shoes + treadmill feels like running on clouds.

20 miles tomorrow look daunting, but more because of the weather than anything. High of 4C and snow in the forecast ... how motivating.

The meth lab is no longer a meth lab... went on a serious metro binge the last two days... yesterday was cleaning and laundry. Today was spending - dishes, curtains, clothes. Necessary.

The snow accumulating on the roof outside my window makes me feel like watching baseball. Not really. Jays are up early against the D-Rays... If its this cold in Iowa, I hope Shoeless Joe has a warm jacket.

Soundtrack tonight is a heavy dose of Placebo. Started with Black Market Music, and letting it shuffle from there.

Mid-program drudgery

2007-04-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

Today's run was so blah. Unbelievably blah. So blah that, under any other circumstances, I would be disappointed. But, based on the circumstances, I'll just let it slide.

4°C and rainy, one week after a 30km race, did 800m repeats on Friday... that all adds up to seriously blah conditions. I hammered out an unremarkable 10 miles and came home to recuperate. Opened up iCal and mapped out the weeks to come, all culminating in the day I get revenge on Ottawa... May 27th.

I'm slightly nervous about being overtrained right now. The weather forecast for this week doesnt look overly promising.. cold and rainy straight through.

4 day week at work coming up... gonna take advantage and get some extra sleeeeep. 20 miler next Sunday... sleep is my biggest ally right now.

Also - gonna start breaking in a new pair of Mizuno Creations. Right now they feel like plastic.. but the old ones feel like mush. I should just pay someone to walk around in these things all week. Any takers?

God Bless You Iceland

2007-03-26T21:00:00.000-07:00

Sekk, is she icelandic? I think she's half. Half Italian too. Emiliana Torrini is murdering my iTunes tonight.

The first record - Love in the Time of Science. jacked the Macbook Pro into the new Aquos... 32" visualizer is taking me away.

If i could stay awake long enough, I'd probably hit up some Portishead, Bjork and then finish things off with K&D and Bonobo.... but who am I kidding. I'll be asleep in 10 minutes.

Asleep From Bay

2007-03-26T20:16:00.000-07:00

The title says it all. Pretty wiped from a weekend on the road - but the race went really well. Drove up to Hamilton on Saturday afternoon, after stopping at G&G for some supplies. Took a new approach to the run this year, and I have no idea why this didn't occur to me earlier.

I ran strictly based on pace. Flipped the Garmin to pace for the flat sections, and focused on running slower - not faster. Kept it around 7:45, even when I could have pushed it. When I got to the hills (which this year didn't feel nearly as steep as last year), I flipped it to HR. I only saw my elapsed time at the relay checkpoints, and even then, I had no idea what my chip time was.

The result? I ran what might be my first negative split. My legs were very fresh at the end - maybe not fresh enough to do another 12km for a full marathon, but I was definitely not taxing the system. Threw some coal in the fire for the last mile and a half - did the last mile in 6:50 - just to prove to myself that it was there.

Result? I ran 2:26 .... slightly slower than last year, but very good practice for the ultimate goal, which is the second assault on Ottawa.

Took tonight off, but tomorrow we start anew. Kingston half in a month

17 slow miles

2007-03-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

Very productive weekend, but alas it has ended. Weekends tend to do that... Doesn't help that I have been yawning and tired since about 7pm tonight. Ran 17 miles this afternoon, and after that, I am a vegetable for the rest of the day. I took it really slow though, since next week is Around the Bay. Based on schedule, it should be a rest week next week and a Sunday 12 miler, but the 30k will be good race experience as we prepare for a second assault on Ottawa.

The only thing that made today difficult was the wind. The temperature was hovering around freezing, but the sun's warmth was fleeting when the wind picked up. Running west, my jacket billowed like a sail, slowing my split times horrendously. At the Lemoine's Point turnaround, the wind suddenly disappeared. So instead of having my jacket-sail to fly me home, I had to actually propel myself with my legs. My nutrition was pretty much as it should have been, so I didn't hit the wall like I did last weekend.

I will have to take this week somewhat easier towards the end, to stay fresh for Hamilton. I don't think I can hope to beat last year's 2hrs 17 - as I have no 20 milers under my belt so far this year. But it will be a good test - and once the weather clears up, I will be able to pump up the quality speed work on the after-work weekday sessions. Might even start to run *gasp*, before work. Nah

Less than one week left

2007-03-17T14:56:00.000-07:00

Bum Rush The Charts

March Madness

2007-03-15T22:11:00.000-07:00

Each year, I look forward to the month known as March Madness. Those two words conjure up so many memories of heroes, idols, dreams and heartbreaks that only a fellow addict can relate.

Today was the day.. the day the 64 start their dance. Unfortunately, I spent my day doing a dance of my own. A dance of fury and frustration; first scrambling all day to get a project out the door ASAP, and making some pretty art in the process.... and then pulling it all down due to a confusion in the ranks of my superiors. It was a true Fatboy Slim tune - Build it up, Tear it down.

Had to stay at work late to make sure that it all came down properly. It was like detonating an old building - you can light the fuse, but you still should stick around to make sure no one gets buried in the rubble. In the end, I worked 9-6:30, with no lunch. In the rush of it all, I only managed to catch the end of the VCU Duke game, but seeing the white boys on the blue devils lose in the first round made it a worthwhile day 1.

After a long day of minimal food and an overall lack of sleep, I felt zero motivation to run. I did a 16 miler on Sunday, and some resulting discomfort forced me to take a couple days off. Ran 4 miles last night, and tonight was almost another miss. But I made it happen... slowly but surely put on the running gear, and dragged myself out the door. Listened to the latest Phedippidations and knocked down 6 miles...

The afterglow was fantastic - making the rest of my day seem insignificant, but after a bit of a cooling down period, I am ready for a night of black, unconscious sleep.

Tomorrow is Friday - and it can't get here fast enough. Bring on the Madness, but keep it out of my head.

This Transmission Is Coming To You....

2007-03-03T17:21:00.000-08:00

From the meth lab. No - painting is not yet complete, but I moved my stuff up anyways. The increased space is fantastic, I want to yell - just to hear the echo.

The subtitle to this post is

"SWEDEN WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME"

Spent a good hour disassembling my desk and bringing it here.. up the stairs, around every 90 degree corner. Had it all laid out on the floor, ready to go at it, when I realized that this is IKEA, and the particles in particle board must be all the same charge... as they seem to repel eachother at every juncture where cohesion is important. After several attempts to resurrect the formerly freestanding desk, I was reminded of the density of particle board - and the strength of my own skull. The desk that had served me so well, for so many years, finally came crashing down. On my head.

Since every artist formerly known as a screw-hole is torn to shreds, the desk remains in pieces.

But - its a new meth lab, its a new era, and there is now a new desk that will serve as the console of the future. A sweet pine table. And a new soundtrack - the new Fountains of Wayne... Traffic and Weather. oink!

Bumrush the charts

2007-03-02T21:40:00.000-08:00

A user submitted promo for BRTC. wicked.

March 22nd, purchase the song "Mine Again" by Black Lab. One Day, One Song, One Voice.

BUM RUSH THE CHARTS

the Gramma's

2007-02-11T21:16:00.000-08:00

Stadium Arcadium? What? First item of business tomorrow - listen to that album again (damn, its a double LP) and figure out what all the fuss is about. All along, I thought it was just another album by the Chili Peppers - another iteration of the formula they got right 2 albums ago. Californication got it right... By The Way pushed it a bit too far, but moments of Frusciante brilliance (read: "Can't Stop") made it tolerable.. but Dani California? Its a Tom Petty hack, note for note. Snow (Hey Oh) is like an early working version of "Otherside", before it became awesome.

How did this album just rake in 4 Grammys? I know, I know - the Grammy's have sucked for a long time. But, why was this album even nominated? Is it a career payback sorta thing?

Going to rack up the iPod with some new albums tomorrow and pray for sunlight. Spring is coming, I can feel it. Its hiding somewhere behind the grey skies. Buried beneath snowbanks, trapped in the frozen soil. At moments, I can feel it slowly coming to life. The water leaking from the glittering snowbank. My jacket zipper's 3 inch descent at noon. The blinding sunlight replacing blinding darkness on those few days when I make it out of work on time.

February is nearly half over, thanks to its lack of days. D'you think February was ever made fun of in public school for being short? I doubt it.

Why Don't You Radio Home?

2007-02-05T21:01:00.000-08:00

Another late night post to keep the habit. I have a good post bouncing inside my brain, one like those carefree days of two summers ago when it seemed like creative ideas poured out of my brain with every new experience.... but I promised myself I would go to bed early tonight. It was one of those promises that begins just before the lights go out the night before - an oath that this won't happen again: no more listless clicking and scrolling, more dreaming and snoring. At the crack of the alarm clock, the promise begins anew. This time, the early-to-bed promise is coupled with a new dedication to a post-work nap. Napping is sort of like flossing, nothing but a good intention.

But before long, the mid-day sun, and the cold walk home causes eyes to open. After work projects, commitments and schedules cause even the best promises to be forgotten.

So tonight, with this post - the promise begins again. The definition of a cycle is something that can be broken. Otherwise, its infinity. And this isn't infinity. Because tonight will be different.

Music: Craig Cardiff - Judy Garland (You're Never Home...). buy it.

Snowshoeing

2007-01-28T21:26:00.000-08:00

I am officially a survivor. Made it through week 1 of training without collapsing, dying, or quitting in the process. its always hard to get back into a routine; the drudgery of bad days drudges a little bit more when there is a prescription involved. The 5 mile run on Tuesday night, after a long day of work, might as well have been cough syrup. But, like Buckley's, it tasted bad, but it worked. Felt great to get through it.

Thursday was frozen, and the hills would have been treacherous, so that workout was postponed, leaving a threepeat that will seem pathetic in a few months time. A few hill repeats on Friday night, a 5 mile pace on Saturday and today's 10 miler. I was pleased with today's run though - 85 minutes, in the cold and wet. The snow was bipolar, hardpacked and slippery in some areas, fluffy quicksand in others. Either way, my legs will be sore tomorrow.

Got some good work done tonight on the tri site... hopefully that will continue. I think another union meeting with Mr. K is required later this week, but maybe a change of venue, with better scenery.

The artist formerly known as the meth-lab is now *nearly* complete. Can't really believe it myself. I have a few photos from the night that I first had the crazy idea of re-doing it. Once we finish the floors, I'll snap some after shots.... May be able to move in next weekend!

So everything is going well. Somehow managing to keep all the plates in the air. Need to find some more time for the D80.

Tired and Wired

2007-01-25T22:04:00.000-08:00

When did winter get here. -21 C tonight, -29 when you include the windchill. Nixed the hill workout tonight, Friday's rest day will have to involve some mountain climbing.

Updates to come... but now sleep is at hand, for the traveling man

You must be crazy...

2007-01-18T23:11:00.000-08:00

Tonight started as a struggle - frustrations about the meth lab, as I paint like a possessed man, and other things don't get accomplished. There is a lot of work that needs to be done, beyond the painting, and it just isn't getting completed - or even thought about. Right now, the walls are beautiful tones of off-white (I couldn't bring myself to put dark colours on the walls that were previously so filthy).. and yet the space is far from an apartment. I left a note for the person-de-resistance tonight, and I hope something can be worked out tomorrow.

Even my run started as a struggle. My legs were tired from last night's escapade in the snow. The winter and its lack of friction is back - meaning my anti-slip and anti-slide muscles are tired. I did a quick loop around the block, thinking that I would just turn home if things didn't improve. Instead, I dialed the iPod to an old marathon playlist - random - and let it take me where it may.

I pushed through the initial mile-de-resistance, loping through the dark and empty streets. Somehow ended up downtown, but the streetlights and creatures of the night pushed me back to the more quiet residential streets. Did a loop around the rink at market square - hoping that the midnight hockey game that was so entertaining last night would be back. No luck. Instead there were men on cranes, either fixing street lights, or stealing lightbulbs. They waved, so whatever their purpose, I am on their side.

As I came upon the building that will be my new place-de-resistance (read: job), my eyes wandered, as my mind scoured the imaginary hallways on the 2nd floor, wondering which office might be mine. 4 weeks ago they thought I was too crazy. Over the iPod's symphony, I heard a voice. Someone calling me crazy. Must be just the Ghost of Pirsig in my mind. I'm really not crazy at all. Thats the funniest part.

I turned and saw a real person next to me. A student, walking home, not drunk. Maybe out late studying, nah - its January. No one studies until at least mid February. As I pulled off my headphones, he repeated his phrase:

You must be crazy....

I looked at him, wondering if I had been speaking my thoughts without knowing it. I admit it, sometimes I will sing along to the words without knowing, but thats usually many miles in. But I don't think I ever verbalize the thoughts that crystallize on the road.

He must've noticed my confusion.

You must be crazy to run at this hour ... he repeated.

I looked at my watch. It was 1:15 am. And it was snowing. I guess the man had a point - and in saying it, he had paid me a great compliment.... the piece-de-resistance. Crazy like Karnazes is a good thing. I laughed and shouted over my shoulder...

Gotta fit it in sometime. And I'm the least crazy person I know...

PS - huge congrats to Chazzy - king of the valley.

The first coat is the deepest

2007-01-15T23:53:00.000-08:00

The snow did arrive, but brought with it ice pellets and dark skies. The whole day was blustery and cold - not that I'd know really, I spent much of it inside. Got up at the crack of 10am and started the day by sanding windows and doors upstairs. It used to be all bare wood, not "nice" bare wood, but the dark ugly wood stain that was cool when it was cool to have wood panelling on everything. Aka: it was ugly. So I sanded, washed and primed until my hands were raw... finally taking a break for a late lunch and a nap on the couch.

Went out tonight with R-Mac and M to look at kitchen things... and not much was accomplished. May or may not happen. We bought 3 cans of paint though, swiss coffee for the living room and some "romance" for my office. I dunno who named the paint, but their romance was a shade of white/grey...

Came home and fully intended to relax, but with the Golden Globes occupying that small black thing I never turn on (te-le-vis-sion), I was lured upstairs to paint some more. Got a full coat of the sweet swiss coffee on the living room, and not a speck on the blazing white ceilings. Looks great.

Tomorrow will be more of the same - sanding, washing, and painting my office. Bring on the romance.

God Said No

2007-01-14T23:42:00.000-08:00

Just a quick post tonight, before the eyes close for the day. Its apparently snowing outside - wish i could see it. Subterranean windows don't allow me to see, well, anything. If I get really close to the wall, I can look up and barely make out the color of the sky against the angle of the neighbour's roof. Not so glamorous. The forecast is calling for 10-15cm tonight, which will make tomorrow's run a bit of an adventure. Might get up early and go shoot some photos, depending on the amount of snow that actually makes it to the ground.

The bipolar temperatures that were surprisingly positive have now returned to their deep winter depression. What was +6 two weeks ago is now -6. And thats the high. The 14 day forecast is terrifying, as the predicted temperatures plunge off the charts... Weathermen are never right.

Went out last night to see Craig Cardiff play at Clark. Dragged K along with me, guest list, and hanging with Craig and Nathalia before the show... you know how we roll. The show was spectacular: acoustic guitars, lasers, light shows, spandex and fencing masks. Personally, my favourite song of the night wasn't even Craig's. A cover of "God Said No" by Dan Bern. Kicked off the show, and stopped the collective hearts of everyone in attendance. It was stunning, haunting, surreally perfect. And it was just beginning.

Came home and bought the original tune from iTunes (search, dan bern). Equally brilliant, but far more fragile. Hopefully I'll have the cover recorded and it will be posted somewhere soon.

Time for sleeping. Midnight is where the day begins - so I guess i'm 3 hours in. Happy tomorrow.

Antz

2007-01-11T00:33:00.000-08:00

3 am, and no sleeping is happening. Maybe it was the 5k run at 1am.... or maybe its the hot water running through the pipes, which is apparently powered by a 50 year old tractor. At least that's how it sounds.

Winter suddenly arrived today. The -7 C chill slapped me in the face, but the sunlight was much appreciated. Wasn't too cold for running tonight, wore two Nike Pro long sleeves and a light jacket....ingeniously had the headphone cable running between the two shirts, eliminating its natural inclination to turn into a coat hanger in subzero conditions.

Winter didn't arrive alone. Winter brought with it some friends. Friends of the six-legged variety, who suddenly decided that my apartment was their new home. The kitchen, once a peaceful land of tofu and veggies, is now the horrifying site of the great ant massacre of 2007. Send me to the Hague - this is getting vicious. If my poisons don't work in the next couple of days, the big guns might have to move in and institute some big gun tactics of insect genocide.

Spent much of the evening painting, finally finished the base-coat of white upstairs. After some touchups, I may be able to apply some colour to the situation within the next few days. Hopefully things start to roll after that. My move-in goal is Super Bowl Sunday... but, I don't know how realistic that is.

Music tonight:

Aqualung - With Apologies To Anyone Who Is Actually Broken Hearted. live, and mellow. and perfect for 3 am.

Blogging 101

2007-01-05T22:37:00.000-08:00

This is not a lesson, a lecture, or frankly anything more or less educational than the typical chattering of fingers across a keyboard.

Just realized that my previous post was number 100 - is that some sort of an anniversary? I think so... 100th blog post, is definitely an aluminum anniversary. So maybe a macbook pro? Hopefully new ones next week, and if things fall in a particular way, then maybe.

Listening to a good mix of coding music tonight. Took so long to get into the necessary frame of mind to get anything accomplished, but once I got the soundtrack dialed, I realized that at this point in the project (link to come when its done), its really just a matter of copying and pasting and a bit of database stuff. Nothing revolutionary. The stylesheet definitely needs a good spring cleaning though, starting to look cluttered.

The soundtrack tonight started with a little Oxide & Neutrino to get my brain into the digital realm. The Execute album really reminds me of those early heady days, when we were the jilted generation - The Prodigy, The Crystal Method, The Chemical Brothers, Fluke and those crazy compilation cds...

Finally landed on Portishead when it was time to wind down and return to an analog state. Nearly through all of Dummy now, then it will be time to sleep.

For fans of good music, hop over to Craig Cardiff's Tour Podcast page. We set it up last night, to prepare for the Canadian tour that kicks off very soon. The idea: a new song performed for every city on the tour - will be uploaded into the podcast feed, so by the end of the tour, fans will have a new live album, delivered via the magic of RSS. very very cool stuff. I am very excited about the prospects of this, there will certainly be some genius moments that come out of a project this ambitious.

Where boys veer to tread

2007-01-02T23:28:00.000-08:00

In the words of Al Gore - the days lately have been Inconveniently Warm. This time last year, I was bundled up to the eyes with polar fleece, feeling the cold all the way to the core, sneaking out and racing the wind, risking frozen facial features for the joy of the chase. This year, the digital mercury on theweathernetwork.com has been dyslexic - infused with the antidepressants of cilmate change, numbers are typically overwhelmingly negative are suddenly consistently positive.

Despite one day of white covering green, snow has been missing without leave. So scarce in fact, that I was startled to find the roads and sidewalk frosted with a thin layer of silver under the stars tonight. Started out lightly, first testing the brakes and treads. Legs don't come with anti-lock anything, and one false sense of security can easily turn a brake to a break, and thats the last thing I need.

As my breath warmed the air in front of me, the frost seemed to part - making traction possible for speed. Speed is a relative term, but long strides make anyone feel like a cheetah.

The cold air lent itself well to acoustics. The sounds of action up ahead steered my course away from the usual midnight miles. Voices and cheers reverberated off of a building and into my airspace. Came across the culprits, the usual suspects. Deuce, DJ, Evan, Luke and Tbird... mini football in the frost - sliding across the asphalt, trying to out-ronaldinho eachother without giving into gravity. Stayed and watched for awhile, wanted to join in, and play all night - but tights (real men wear running tights) and worn out mizunos didn't fill me with confidence.

Finally took off, and did a circle of the campus, making a point to climb the hill that was once my nemesis in the fall. When getting back on my feet post-op, I insisted on climbing this hill as a part of my rehab. Looped back home, a block from the makeshift soccer field, hearing the ball echo off brick over and over, as the score surely rose into the hundreds....

New Year's Revolutions

2007-01-02T23:01:00.000-08:00

Whoa. and just like that double-oh-six was gone. The only positive I can take from that, is that its officially double-oh-seven. 2007. the year of the ninja - because we all know that James Bond is a British ninja - they just make their ninjas wear badass suits, to keep up with their posh national image.

I thought about the last 12 months and realized how much of my year was derailed by the ruptured appendix action that took place. I think when you're a distance runner (and no, i'm not even a good one), you spend so much of your time building up, that when the event never happens, you're left in suspended animation. Without the pay off, you're left spinning your tires and watching the world go by.

Or maybe thats just me.

But, it happened, and, unless my appendix somehow regenerates - it won't happen again. So lets move on.

Revolution #1 - get back in shape to run run run all over 2007. The same targets are set from last year for the spring.. Around the Bay, Ktown Half, Ottawa Full. It worked well last year, and will provide a nice metric to compare to. Fall is still undecided. Maybe the double that i wanted to do this year. Prince Edward County + West Palm. Who knows.

Revolution #2 - blog and podcast more. i think the blogging won't be an issue... can't say just why... but idle time to kill might have something to do with it. The podcasting will come along as well - lately haven't had the studio set up properly, but once #3 happens, that will solve itself.

Revolution #3 - convert meth lab. In the fall, moved into the basement apartment. We dubbed it the meth lab - not because this place was bad, but the place upstairs was in shambles. Spent the last few weeks putting serious hours in upstairs, making slow progress. Threw on a gas mask tonight, and painted like it was the end of the world - literally. Caustic, white, liquid toxin... slowly making the smoke kissed walls into pristine, shining, practically rubberized, cleannnnnnn. Its still a long ways out, but the available sunlight up there will make it all worth it come springtime.

Revolution #4 - Re-do this blog scheme. Do it up twosix2 style. maybe custom written, but def. custom designed.

Thats all for me for now. revolution #5. sleep. more

Lonely Boy

2006-12-05T13:19:00.000-08:00

Black Lab

Reinvigorated

2006-12-05T11:42:00.000-08:00

Summer - gone. But for the next few weeks, I won't mind. I'm all about winter, and snow, chasing my frozen breath for frozen miles. Until new years . After that, I will be counting down the days until things start to melt.

The last few nights, I have been out on the roads again. Temps dropping into the single negatives make for clear black skies, meaning my sojourns are lit by the orange glow of streetlights. Luckily, my lungs remember what winter is - I was afraid for awhile that they would react with rejection, triggering that not so pleasant taste of blood, metal and cold. My soleus is also somewhat repaired, as I only felt a touch of tenderness near the end of a 40 minute "long run" on Sunday.

Woke up this morning to a dazzling display of white. Stayed "asleep" until the coast was clear, for fear that beginning the day's activities would result in a phone call. And morning phone calls mean day job. Once the coast was clear, I stared at the snow through the basement apartment window, and the snow stared back. The reflection of the low sunlight on white was electric, burning all mental noise away (my retinas somehow survived).

And so it began, a day of completed projects (Lonely Boy Video Premiere), and major progress on others (links to come), and the potential for more. And of course, the soundtrack for new beginnings, buried in fresh snow?

Trip hop of course.
Morcheeba - Who Can You Trust?
Prefuse 73 - Surrounded By Silence

The future sound of .... uncle seth?

2006-11-25T23:12:00.000-08:00

After hearing about it repeatedly on my new favourite podcast Managing The Grey, I beamed into the virtual U-Turn cafe tonight to catch the Uncle Seth concert.

Rolled in with a few songs to go - and found no one in sight. CC messaged me and let me know the show was downstairs. Damn. Attendance was decent - for a saturday nightt - everyone having a good time. The girl next to me had fluorescent pink skin and no hair. Halfway through the show, I changed into a new pair of pants.

A virtual concert in Second Life - this is either the geekiest thing ever, or the future sound of a lot of cool things.

Then Mr K showed up, and we had a dance-a-thon. Don't believe me? I have pictures

One more setback

2006-11-24T22:01:00.000-08:00

Compared to an appendix, this is nothing. Maybe thats why its so frustrating.

Went out for a few really good runs between the last post and this - really felt like progress was being made. The rust was flaking off slowly, not to the point where I would say I was polished - rather, I was entering a state of decreased tarnish. Just over a week ago, I out for a slow, easy run - but, the November night felt far too warm for its Novemberness. I blame the night, the weather, the global warming - for that night misrepresented itself as a summer evening. My legs reverted to summer mode, my lungs followed suit. As I pushed through the three mile mark, I caught up with another runner - made some small talk - ended up doing 3 miles together. Being a cross country runner, our 6:30 mile pace was easy for him. Being out of shape, the 6:30 felt like hell for me. Being a tough guy (read: idiot), I kept up. No sweat.

At work the next day, I felt good about myself. After all, I had just run 7 miles - way ahead of any sort of schedule I could have dreamed up in my head. And the pace! The pace was back to those ethereal nights of August, when I logged carefree mile after carefree mile.....

What was that sensation in my calf... muscle tightness... certainly nothing to be alarmed about...

I was prudent, and cautious, and skipped that day's run. I was saving up energy, and dreaming of a short run Saturday, and the first long run in months would take place on Sunday afternoon.

Saturday came, and after a day of getting some work done - I couldn't wait any longer. I laced up, and rushed out to search for that fleeting feeling of just two nights earlier. Within one block, I had it. Within 2 blocks, the feeling decided to redefine its fleetingness.

What was that sensation in my calf.... pain... soleus pain... certainly something to walk about.....

So thats where we stand now. A strained soleus. Haven't run in a week. Dying to run, and breathe the cold air.

Patience is virtue, glasshoppa.

Music to Fall To

2006-10-29T23:16:00.000-08:00

I always associate music with seasons. In fact, I think that more important than album title, song names, track order or even band name, the season in which the record is released (or discovered) is the most important aspect of the entire process. Sure, if you have a catchy name (start it with a "the", throw in some !!!!'s, and drop in a phrase in brackets, and thats a start. ie: (Oh My God!) Its The Pitchforks!!! ) thats a good way to get a marketing kick. Write some good songs, and you might stick in someone's head for a week.

But - if you can nail your sound to a season, the music will forever be popular, in a cyclical rhythm, in the mind's of the addicted. I guess the season that most people focus on is the summer. Those annoying hip pop tunes that become the "hit of the summer"... or the acoustic strummings that inspire lifelong campfire memories... they are all seasonal affairs.

However, the other three seasons are where the gems lie. Spring albums bring you out of a snowy hibernation.... guitar riffs melting icebergs with their face-melting sunshine. The Tragically Hip melt snowbanks - its been proven. Winter albums keep you warm, yet conjure up haunting sensations when reflected upon out of season. Sigur Ros - Agaetis Byrjun. Yeah, now you're shivering.

But best of all, I think, is the fall album. I think the dark has something to do with it.... its not yet cold enough that going outside invokes a second thought - yet its often dark enough to trigger a reflection upon sound that is not possible with the distractions that come with daylight. Also, headphones under hoodies just sound better. Bury your hands in your pockets, keep your face out of the wind, spin your thumb around that iPod dial - and find the volume that resonates with your season. Falling leaves do it too. The crunching of leaves underfoot, synchronized with a snare or cymbal, is as natural as surround sound is gonna get.

So here begins a list of fall albums... albums that I crave when the leaves fall, and albums that leave me craving when listened out of season.

The Streets - A Grand Don't Come For Free
U2 - The Unforgettable Fire
The Tea Party - Transmission
David Bowie - Hours
Death In Vegas - The Contino Sessions
Leftfield - Rhythm & Stealth
Fountains of Wayne - Welcome Interstate Managers
Bjork - Vespertine
Mercury Rev - All Is Dream
The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
The Watchmen - Slomotion (disc 1)

thats all for now. add your fall albums to the comments, and i'll add them to the iPod. zzz

Tomorrow Starts Again

2006-10-24T00:10:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I will start again. Bought a gym membership, going to get back onto this rehab kick. Damn running and its reliance on lower abs - the location formerly known as my appendix was a little tender after the few miles last week - so I am going to have to mix in the stationary bike. Gotta start somewhere.

Couldn't sleep earlier tonight - so i woke up and had a go at a design that wasn't working earlier. Nothing to show for it yet, in code, but the mock is looking much nicer. More work on the folk singer front. New one is gonna be tight. and posh. Splash going up tomorrow.

Had a chat with Mr. K about big ideas, being a big deal and taking over the world. Nothing new there. Its gonna happen - whether lawyers like it or not.

Tonight's soundtrack: Gabriel & Dresden.

Have a ton of albums to pod tomorrow.

Stars of Track and Field

2006-10-18T22:18:00.000-07:00

New (and old) albums have been making my world go around lately.

Stars of Track and Field - Centuries Before Love and War
The Tragically Hip - World Container
Imogen Heap - Glittering Cloud
The Hold Steady - Boys & Girls In America
Ratatat - Classics

have a few more loaded up that i will pod tomorrow. Lots of work to get done - that means sleep.

MSTRKRFT's remix of Metric's Monster Hospital... yes... its good to be running again.

Don't Call it A Comeback...

2006-10-18T22:01:00.000-07:00

Its time to get back to normal. Its been such a strange trip, its hard to remember what normal is. Was just moving into the new crib (the converted meth lab) when the organ 'sploded... then a full month on the shelf. Its been 3 weeks now and I decided that due to certain circumstances, it was time to find normal again.

I laced them up tonight. An obvious sign that its been too long? My running shorts - the ones that sit on my floor at all times... the ones that I am wary of washing in fear of not having them handy when the urge to run away becomes too strong - yeah, those ones - they were nowhere to be found. The shoes were right where I left them, and despite the miles and miles of damage that they have incurred, the lack of cushioning that was slowly stressing my feet towards fracture, the encrusted mud and dirt from the hidden puddles that ambushed me many weeks ago... nothing could have felt better.

Somewhere along the way, autumn arrived. Shorts were still in order, especially after searching for a good half hour to find them, but a longsleeve was a definite requirement. My dad came along too... another requirement. My stomach felt like I was at the starting line of the marathon that I missed - nervous - those studies on VO2 and bedrest are not pretty. But I ran. and I kept running. Scar felt odd - but nothing bad. After a mile, I stopped. Probably around 8 minutes. I could've kept going, but I was feeling so good, about not feeling bad, that I didn't want to risk feeling bad, about not feeling good. Walked for a few miles, and talked about the day - what it brought and what it didn't.

It was only 8 minutes, but tomorrow will bring more. Its supposed to rain, but that never stopped me before. Grit your teeth and get it done. Hey normal, how are ya... its been awhile, i'm glad to be back.

Reinvention

2006-10-10T13:19:00.000-07:00

When I last posted, I was less evolved. You see, human beings, as a product of evolution, contain many parts that serve no function besides that of helping our former selves survive. I don't mean former selves as a therapy term, or even in the witness-protection-sense of the word... I am talking about the former selves that once swam in oceans, swung from trees, hunted and gathered. Scientists have estimated that there are as many as 180 extra pieces in the human puzzle. Research is slowly decreasing the number of "useless" parts, as physiologists determine new functions for previously unknown organs. In the last 3 weeks, I have also reduced my allotment of useless parts. Here's a riddle for you:

What is the difference between an encyclopedia and a ninja?

Answer? The former has an appendix, the latter does not.

Midnight is where the day begins

2006-09-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post, to keep up the habit.

I am having a neildiesel night - well, not really... but I am watching a replay of West Ham vs Aston Villa. Just checked bbc to see when the game actually took place - and i saw the score. whoops.

Did my peak long run tonight. A 22 miler, 3 weeks out from marathon day. Did the first 8 miles solo, then grabbed Flicker for the final 14. Got the nutrition bang on - 3 gels and some of those delicious jelly belly sport beans ( think of salty gatorade flavoured jelly beans.... ). Finished in 3 hours flat, with no wall hitting to speak of. Temperature was perfect, no humidity - can't wait for the real day. Glad my 60 mile week is over too.

Tapering now starts slowly - recovery run tomorrow if my legs will take it. Surely they will be ok.

Soundtrack - New London Fire - Digital EP 2 (its free online, and its awesome. 2 new songs and 2 album songs. go get it).

I know there will be no more goals tonight, 1-1 draw... whats that they say about kissing your sister? oh ya, its gross.

PS - great post Sekk. keep on pedalling, my icelandic ninja brother

neildiesel

2006-09-09T07:54:00.000-07:00

thought the title was accurate... as I am having a huge jd morning. Lets see if i can post like him.

Up at 7:45, on a Saturday.. didn't sleep well last night - new mattress and bad allergies. Cable guy scheduled to come between 8 and noon, but I forgot to pick up the digital box. That means a 15 minute drive to pick it up... place isn't open til 9:30.Grabbed some soy and a banana for the drive. First spot they told me is no longer renting units - damn. Wasted 10 minutes getting there.

Got home as the cable guy is showing up. Didn't look like Jim Carey, more like my friend Mike from public school. As I'm agreeing to their terms of service, he tells me what speeds I should expect from newsgroups. Who needs newsgroups, I like oink.

grabbing a new talib single, the legends, some pete yorn EPs and that damn killers song, remixed.

1-0 Boro at the half. I have faith in Henry. After all, I'm neildiesel. Gunners for life.

Summer? Where did you go?

2006-09-05T15:45:00.000-07:00

Somewhere, back there... in those weeks and months gone by, summer disappeared. Today was the first day of school for many - which means that in what feels like a few days, it will be winter.

I'm still wearing shorts, but I'm not gonna lie - as I sit here right now, my ankles are cold. Feels like its too soon to give into the option of jeans. Suffering through cold days in shorts in the spring is heroic - you serve as a beacon to others that better days lie ahead. Suffering through cold days in the autumn is also a role to be respected - you show others that things aren't that bad. Summer is still here. If that guy is still wearing shorts, then everything is alright.

Yes. I am that guy. The guy wearing shorts and flip flops in April and October.

But when I sit on the couch, I hide in a blanket.

Sweatblog: Last night was a 5 miler that turned into 6... Cruise control was in order. Tonight is scheduled for a minimum of 10 miles, but I feel like doing more. This is the last huge week (close to 60 miles) before a taper begins in earnest next week. 25 days to go. can't wait.

Happy Trails

2006-09-01T23:02:00.000-07:00

Wow - holy sweatblog batman. I was digging through some old blog posts, not for the sake of retroactively reading my own mind, but more for ideas on how to layout archives in a CMS, and I realized that the sweatblog nature of this blog isn't such a bad thing. I am more than aware that this often spirals into a recounting of repeated footsteps, strung together to somehow achieve some sort of universal meaning... but in re-reading posts, I am able to see where I was at last year, preparing for the same marathon as I am now.

So until further inspiration inspires, lets recount the paces in the sand.

This week, with recovery in mind, I hit the trails. There is something about chasing rabbits and jumping roots that makes things more interesting. Is it possible to maintain a recovery week pace when a wooded trail of rolling hills suddenly leads to a lake-reflected sunset? I haven't found any evidence of this possibility, nor have I felt the effects of overzealous pace during a stepback week. Both Wednesday and Thursday were trailbound... and for tomorrow's 10k, I may well go back.

That is, unless, the tropical storm formerly known as "Ernest goes to hurricane camp" rains on my parade. My Mizuno's are nearly in their afterlife, treads worn from a summer of hard work... there are fresh ones waiting in the box... but I don't think I am ready to subject my dear friends to deep mud.

Soundtrack: runcasts.
Phedippidations
Running from the Reaper
Endurance Radio
Burning Twenty

chaz - lets do up SB.

5 weeks...

2006-08-27T23:04:00.000-07:00

5 weeks from now ... I will be sore. But I will hopefully have a new PR under my belt.

Did a 20 miler tonight... hard after last nights 10 mile pace run. hit the wall at 18 miles, chugged a can of Fruitopia and chowed a fruit bar and finished with 4 laps of an 800meter loop. After I got the nutrition sorted out, I felt surprisingly good. Miles 19 and 20 each under 8 minutes... weird.

Anyone wanna run beside me with a cooler in the next marathon?

Music lately: I'm From Barcelona - Let Me Introduce My Friends (obviously)
Sean Lennon - Friendly Fire
Live- Throwing Copper (why can't songs from black mountain sound remotely like this?)

Tomorrow holds a day of php, painting, and assembling IKEA. A 5 miler too, if my legs will take it.

I built a tree house

2006-08-25T00:06:00.000-07:00

Have you heard this album? I'm From Barcelona - Let Me Introduce My Friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

god damn. its perfect.

I also built a back end. Its fugly right now, but CSS will fix it. I guess its not a back end... its about 1/10 of a back end. but hey, it changed the articles on the page. hell yes.

I also ran hills. 8 of them. Runners high is like no other. I wish I could live there.

and then I slept

PS - Sorry Pluto

Another Night, Another Raccoon

2006-08-22T23:10:00.000-07:00

Tuesday night. 10 miles. Wasn't so hot - Lately I have been digging deep to find the burn, looking for every ounce of lactic feedback to remind me that I'm improving. Tonight, I didn't have to dig deep at all. In fact, vietnamese vegetarian pad thai induced heart burn left me looking for a shallow grave. Those red chillis that tasted so good at dinner hours earlier proved evil upon second inspection. I knew it would happen, its happened before... I suppose I shouldn't ask for burn anymore. Bring me solitude and sweet disassociation, let my mind wander far from my lungs, my penchant for burn has been cured. For now.

My 10th mile concluded with a showdown. This showdown was not unlike one that you may have seen in a handful of old western movies. First I felt the stare, seeing a looming shadow swagger into the middle of the road, blocking my path. The beady eyes glowed an ominous yellow, reflecting sudden and previously unnoticed moonlight. I took one step forward, out of the shadows, to make my adversary aware that I would not back down. He tottered backwards, stumbling slightly, his dark mask hiding his expression. I calculated my chances in such a battle, weighing the pros and cons of an attempted confrontation. I realized that I was outmatched, as this stealthy ninja of a creature would surely slice and dice me to shreds. I turned my back, surrendering to fate. Would he attack or show sympathy and revel in my surrender. He did neither. As I slowly paced away, with one eye glued over my shoulder, he crept along the curb, mirroring my movements as only the most trained assassins can. I quickened my pace, further demonstrating my desire to avoid any disturbances.

My rival must have sensed my resignation, causing his innate adrenaline charged challenge sensors to lose interest in stalking. Just as quickly as he had emerged in my path, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows. Minutes later, I heard him topple a garbage can.. surely accomplished with an effortless and unexpected attack... this was definitely a warning sign... that garbage can could have been me.

Let this be a warning to you. Despite what you may have been told... just look at their masks, their gleaming eyes, their ability to appear out of the night's blackness unnoticed.

Yes, raccoons are the ninjas of nature.

$i Doesn't Look A Lot Like Jesus

2006-08-22T00:20:00.000-07:00

WOw its late again. Remember, the time on this blog is cali time, meaning i am i+3.

Realized its been almost a week since the last post, and I don't want to fall into the Uncle Travelling Matt Forever persona again. Zen and the art of paint scraping is now over - the kitchen in the new place is painted, and looks hella good compared to the "agent orange" theme of yesteryear.

Running is still on an upswing - last week's recovery was a beautiful change of intensity... but the 800m repeats on Thursday night injected the well needed pain to keep the evolution going. Saturday's 6mile pace was fueled with frustration on a few fronts, meaning it turned into a 40 minute search for the depths of legs and lungs. On nights like that, I become a hill-seeking missile, searching out every source of added resistance - and Saturday's run was predominantly on an incline. Legs burned, I was near crosseyed by the end, making it more of a tempo run, but Sunday's slow 12 miler cleansed away all memories.

So whats with the $i ... $i am learning the whole php/mysql thang. $i had a problem that $i couldn't quite figure out tonight. $i called out for help. mattiek came to my rescue. $i++. Thanks dude.

now that its solved, $i can sleep

soundtrack tonight? The Killers - When You Were Young.... I can't resist its Springsteen hooks, Meatloaf bridges and U2 riffs... unoriginal, but damn good song.

also Matisyahu - Youth .... orthodox jew reggae? only in Brooklyn. I think diesel plays the drums.

Sleep is for the Weekend

2006-08-16T00:07:00.000-07:00

Last week, I wrote that 2 am was invincible. Here I am at 3am - I suppose 3 am is an insomniac. I figured I'd update, just to keep the few faithfuls up to date.

This week is a mega recovery week - last week's speed was tempered during Sunday's long slow distance. The last few miles were ugly, with that feeling of impending muscle breakdown creeping in. Every marathoner knows the feeling; the mild ache that accompanies each footstrike, the tightening of hamstrings, deadening of quads and numbness of mind. Ah, the wall; the brink of meltdown. When approached with slow controlled pace, you can balance on the edge and stare deep into its abyss without its deleterious and devastating effects. When approached in Ottawa last May, we all know I took a fearless nosedive into its blackness, landing on my knees and crawling through its grasp. Each time I get there in training now, the extra experience will hopefully prevent further meltdowns from happening.

Monday was a 4 mile recovery run, which ended up being more of a 2 mile run + extra useless jogging. Dead legs. Tonight's 6 miles happened, nothing fast, nothing special... legs are slowly coming back to life.

Tomorrow looks like it will be a day of XHTML; hopefully a design will take shape. Fun new project, I will disclose more later. For the work, I needed a new soundtrack. How's this for balance:

The Roots - Game Theory
The Decemberists - The Crane Wife

Also - a new microphone has arrived. Podcasting will take on a whole new life. Sleep is for the me.

Teach Me How To Fly

2006-08-12T23:18:00.000-07:00

This is turning into a sweatblog lately - my brain isn't functioning enough to wax philosophic. But, there isn't much to wax about anyways... most of what i see is paint. Can you paint philosophic? hmmm...

Seriously, the last 5 days have been all about paint. To be precise, its more like anti-paint, which is the paint equivalent of a positron. If i were to wax philosophically, my title would be "zen and the art of paint scraping". What started as an art; precision and perfection, not leaving a speck unturned quickly degraded to something less precise. Is there a law that says that walls should be flat? Sure, most walls that you see are flat, but that doesn't make it the rule. It was once believed that the world was flat - and we all know how that one turned out. So, as I make my pronouncement that walls needn't be smooth and planar, I accept that I may be burned at the stake, but I see myself as a great mind ahead of its time. Besides, I like to think that the wall of the kitchen now has some symbolic meaning; a long lost braille dialect of irregular shapes, that will someday be decoded to reveal the secret of the universe.

Ok - enough pseudo philosophy. 10 miler tonight. I hesitate to say this, but it was nothing short of effortless. If only marathons were run at 10pm, in 16C temperatures. Averaged a 7:45 pace, but my mind was everywhere else. As mile 9 elapsed, my Garmin woke me from my revery, meaning there was 1 mile to go. As I couldn't remember the miles that had taken me 5 miles from home and nearly all the way back, I decided to tune in for a mile; to actively breathe and see what life was like below my shoulders. So I dug deep, and looked for pain. I tried to light my lungs aflame, to feel the burn, but steady breathing put out the fires. I tried to churn up some lactic acid to remind my legs of mile 23, but my chemical efforts were buffered. In no time, the Garmin beeped again. Mile 10: 6:45/mile.

This week has been unbelievable. Tomorrow is a 20 miler. I can't wait.

Tonight's soundtrack- Loveless - "Go"

Threshold

2006-08-10T23:24:00.000-07:00

Something had to give. For a few weeks, everything was drenched in the oppression of humidity. Sleeping was uncomfortable, leading to days of sleepiness and nights of wakefulness. They say people in the south do everything slowly - from slow paced steps to the characteristic slow enunciated spoken drawl. For those few weeks, I didn't do things slowly; it was as if I didn't do anything at all. Even running was brutal.

Somewhere in the past few days, that humidity is gone; the thick curtain of air that was perpetually rubbing me the wrong way was lifted. Suddenly, everything felt easier. It was like I was a fish, struggling to breathe the wet stagnant air, being thrown from the water only to realize that I didn't have gills after all. The air made things movable, breathable and liveable.

Training this week has been almost too good. I feel as if I am reborn as a runner. 4 miles monday, 10 miles tuesday, 6 mile trail run yesterday, and a 6.25 mile lactate threshold run tonight. Splits on the fast sections were as low as 6:19/mile. Heart rate hit 192, and then rebounded back to normal.

Other projects are coming along nicely too, after weeks of wondering. Got some great feedback on one, a great idea for another, and an interesting proposal in the works. The good news came like a shot of EPO - my lungs tonight felt endless. Despite irregularities in training, fitness or the events in your life, sometimes the only things weighing you down are your own thoughts. Lose your mind and you grow wings. Tonight I flew.

Oh yeah, new shoes arrived in the mail today. 500 miles have done their worst to the old ones.

Music tonight? Kano - Sometimes (Remix feat. Kaleshnekof). From the Brown Eyes CD Single. So smooth.

Bulletproof... I wish I was

2006-08-07T22:03:00.000-07:00

I have always thought that 2 am was the perfect time of day. Each night, I would go to sleep, hoping to wake up at 2 am. I would lie awake and stare at the stars on my cieling. No matter what had happened the day before, or was to come the next day, 2 am was invincible. Nothing can touch you at 2 am; deadlines lose their looming, failures fail to fail. If you lost everything, had nothing left to your name, you would still have 2 am.

Went for a midnight 4 miler tonight. The moon was almost full, casting a metallic glow on the lake. I turned the volume down low, so I could hear my feet crunching and my breath breathing. I realized that its not 2 am that is invincible. Midnight can be invincible too. If you lost everything, and had nothing left to your name, you would still have you.

Tri and 19 miler

2006-08-06T22:50:00.000-07:00

Seems like a yearly thing - watch triathlon in the morning, then run until it hurts. Well, not a forever yearly kinda thing, but I did it last year and this year, so as far as the blog-readers are concerned, this has been going on since the beginning of time.

So, woke up at 7:20 (there's a 7:00 in the MORNING too? jeez, who knew)... and ate a quick bite. Out the door to watch the Ktown Tri. The bug has almost caught me; maybe next summer. I wanna get a solid marathon under my belt first - preferably not finishing on my knees. The whole purchasing of bike gear may be a hurdle, but I fear that when the bug catches, it will bite hard.

The tri was awesome, enough visible pain to get the endurance sport spidey senses tingling.

Spent a long day walking and swimming in the sun, and then got home exhausted for a quick nap. Probably slept for 45 minutes, before rolling out of bed to put on the runners. 19 miles. First 10 were smooth, then some ugliness, then rocked a couple of 7:45's, and then the last couple were just about survival. Home for a quick meal, soaking in ice water, and now its time to crash.

Three posts in two days... I guess I'm back!

Play-List

2006-08-05T22:23:00.000-07:00

Music needs to be updated too... so lets do it. quickly

New London Fire - I Sing The Body Holographic
Antony & The Johnsons - self titled
Rhymefest - Blue Collar
Jurassic 5 - Feedback
TV On the Radio - Young Liars EP

done

Back By Popular Demand

2006-08-05T21:38:00.000-07:00

Whoa. time warp. its been awhile. Late at night now, but at the urgings of a faithful reader, the time has come to wipe the dust from the control panels in the underwater base, flip the switch and power up.

Its been over a month since the last post. I got back from the alternate reality of European vakay, and hurled myself back into heavy training. Although I kept somewhat in running form, via some sojourns deep into the hills surrounding Cestin, Serbia.. the days that will forever be known as "contamination of 06", the required diet of bread and iced tea, and the resulting feelings of maximum exertion coming around mile 3 - lets just say that getting back into a serious regime was less than rewarding.

The first few weeks back, it was as if my legs had never known how to run. Perhaps their last memory was the meltdown at the finish line in Ottawa, and they were simply resisting training for fear of repetition. Despite the frustrations of slowness and decreased fitness - the back of my mind remembered that after 3 weeks, it would all be back. Every time that my perceived effort screamed redline - my GPS yawned 8:00/mile. Every time my lungs wanted to fly, my legs howled to stop.

But, all the research says 3 weeks... so I trusted ... and counted down the days.

This week, things have come around. Put in a 4 miler on Monday (was scheduled for 3, but the weightlessness took over). 9 miler on Tuesday, reaching a sweat-drenched equilibrium with the monsoon humidity. 5 miles on Wednesday, cruising. a 6 mile hill workout on Thurs went so well that it prompted me to register for the next marathon...

October 1st, 2006 - The Prince Edward County Marathon. The same course as last year's 3:39:00, lets see what a year has done.

Tonight was a 9 mile pace run. Felt like crap. Something was off, and the legs were screaming. My mind was running faster than me, trying to figure it all out. Why was I running so slowly? What happened to 3 weeks? GPS doesn't lie... the military made it... they can hit a target from 30 000 feet.

As I walked in my door, I recalled a few times when military GPS wasn't so accurate. Every now and then (unfortunately, more often than that), those bombs hit villages....

As I stood in the kitchen, my brother came in the door from his run... swearing at his GPS. "Damn cloud cover - GPS is useless tonight... this thing lost me like it was its job!"

.... Three weeks :)

Uncle Traveling Matt

2006-06-30T16:22:00.000-07:00

Now that I am back on my own Powerbook, I have the time to write more than the cryptic internet cafe posts.

We're back in Serbia now, after spending 10 days on the beach in Greece. Like the previous post mentioned - the traveling was a bit of an adventure. Sort of like Amazing Race, Balkan Edition. We left on a bus to Greece, after being assured that Canadians had no problems with visas for the trip. At 3 am,we were awakened by the Macedonian border police - apparently a visa was of prime importance. So we found ourselves sitting on the side of the highway, stuck in no-man's land between Serbia and Macedonia, feeling like a chameleon of Tom Hanks characters - part lost guy in The Terminal, part lost guy in Castaway and definitely Sleepless (but not in Seattle).

At 5 am, we flagged down a bus headed to Belgrade, and after 6 hours, our trip began back where it started. We figured out a bus heading to Sofia, Bulgaria via Nis. Spent the night asleep on the tables in Sofia, as lying on benches was verboten. At 7 am, we boarded a bus to Thessaloniki, Greece..where we finally parted company with some similarly stranded (and infinitely helpless) Hungarians whom we picked up on the Macedonian highway. After 40 hours of travel, we got to our apartment in Pefkhori Greece - a new town of beautiful beaches with streets made of interlocking brick and enough roast pork to fill the bellies of any meat eating animal (myself not included of course).

First thing I did was find a doctor - as my stomach was having convulsions that were beginning to feel as if I was preparing to give birth. As I had suspected, I had been drinking liters of bad water every morning in Serbia before and after my 5 am runs. I was put on a strict diet of bread and ice tea (I may yet write a diet book - the Adriatic Diet ... how to lose 5 lbs in 5 days), and given some antibiotics and within a few days I was back to normal.

The days and nights at the beach were spectacular - sun, sand and salt by day, World Cup football by night. The town was full of English tourists, and my Lions (despite Michael Owen's accordion knee trick) played through to the quarter finals, so the atmosphere was perfect. There's something about watching soccer in a different language, where the commentary serves to heighten the excitement without distracting from the action - watching the final on home soil will definitely be a shock.

Our trip home was less eventful than the trip there - bus to Thessaloniki, midnight train to Sofia (with some nice north american companions). Relaxing ride, with Jose Gonzalez acoustic guitar juxtaposed against the metal on rails soundtrack of the night. Caught a 1pm train to Serbia, and, despite the dirty Bulgarian women smuggling clothes across the border and 37 degree temperatures, we survived.

Flying to Paris on Saturday - will be there in time to see England vs Portugal. Will fall asleep to Brazil vs France, dreaming of the bread that awaits me for breakfast, along with the newly decimated field of the Tour De France.

1-0

2006-06-25T10:57:00.000-07:00

Back at the internet cafe. Just here to get some juice in the iPod and check mail. Was out running the other night and saw some amazing clouds rolling in on sunset at the beach. Ended up being lightning and mad waves - so naturally i kicked off my shoes and used the new Casio to snap some photos. Photos are great. One wave came right up and licked my Shuffle - apparently iPods and water do not mix. Stopped playing, and even though i killed the power, the lights started blinking randomly. GOt really hot too. I think i shorted it out. Letting it dry for a few days, and then I'll see what happens when i plug it in to a USB port. Charging up the 5G iPod now, as the indefinite amount of hours of traveling back to serbia await us on Tuesday.

We seem to have the route all planned. - going to leave Thessaloniki on a midnight train to Sofia, Bulgaria - leaving us timeto find the quickest route to Belgrade/Nis - and once we are there, its all downhill.

If anyone is wondering what my soundtrack is - I have fallen in love with the new "The Long Winters" album. not released til mid July, but for those of you who have access to magical pigs, do it now. the album is fantastic.

Spent today at the beach - walked nearly 5km to Hanioti to find that one stretch of beach where no one goes - the one with the beautiful sand bars 30m offshore - the one where you can see the sandy bottom no matter how far out you go. the one without sea urchins - the one with the fish that nibble your toes like nemo. y'know that one? yeah, thats the one. perfect.

walked back to the apartment in time to shower off all the salt. M walked into town to get the necessities - drinks and grinds for the game. came back with fanta and watermelon. perfect.

England vs Ecuador - scoreless for 60 min. camera zoom on posh in the crowd. Becks bends it like he knows how. England 1, Ecuador 0. after the match, came down to the internet cafe to kill some time before the fresh corn arrives at the market. Cafe full of brits wearing red and white, flags everywhere. Everyone singing God Save the Queen.

Perfect.

The Amazing Race(s)_

2006-06-23T06:43:00.000-07:00

has to be a quick post - only 5 minutes left at the internet cafe!

Currently sitting in greece - was in serbia. got thrown off a bus at 3am at the macedonian border, despite what travel agents say, canadians DO need visas to get through. picked up 2 stranded hungarians as well, and flagged down a bus heading back to belgrade. Then bus to Nis, then bus to Sofia (Bulgaria), then spent the night at the bus station. Sleeping with heads on tables, butts in chairs. 7am train to Thessalonikki, then bus to Pefkohori. Home sweet beach.

36C every day. hot sand. warm clear water. beautiful photos coming. wait til i'm back on broadband.

running is good. except for the gastroenteritis picked up from some bad h20 in serbia. Doc gave me drugs. drugs kill bugs. all good now.

England moved on. No more owen. Crouch is my man. out

Too Close For Missiles, I'm Switching To Guns

2006-05-27T03:20:00.000-07:00

6:20 am ... bus leaves at 7. Only a couple buses per day heading to ottawa, so i'm grabbing the early ride and i'll spend the day at the race expo and relaxing.

For those of you who are interested in tracking my progress, the race starts tomorrow at 7am. Results are available here
I think you get three split times as well as final time.

Thanks for the help with the playlist... the actor has been cast, the soundtrack is now complete. All thats left is watching the plot unfold.

Its about that time again;

when there's nothign left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.

Just a few days to go...

2006-05-23T21:11:00.000-07:00

Every time I stop to collect my thoughts, its dark out. The hours of daylight are increasing, but my perception of them is fleeting. Maybe this means I'm busy. Maybe I shouldn't try to collect my thoughts; maybe better to just let them float away. On that note, peaceful warrior is being released in select cities next week. This just might be the best movie I've ever seen... or it could be the most disappointing. Whatever you do, read the book... screamer has never been the same :)

The weather forecast for Sunday, which of course is marathon day, is lookin' hot. It has been unseasonably cool lately, so the temperature change will hopefully not shock the system too much. Seems ironic, after training diligently for 20 weeks, most of them spent wrapped in infinite layers, braving snowstorms with ice-covered pavement being pulled out from under me... only to face the final test in a sauna. No problem though, extra heat will just make it easier to set myself on fire.

On the running front, the mileage is way down this week. Taper time. Did some middle distance speed work on the weekend, just to keep my legs awake, but now the mileage is down to a pedestrian 3-4 miles per outing. Crisp air tonight, the night was strangely quiet. Wore leggings and a longsleeve. Left at dusk, and hit that zone where running is the status quo, where walking seems oddly inefficient and sitting still not an option. Legs had a mind of their own, moving over sidewalk squares memorized months ago. Mind was wandering, but not hovering on anything in particular. Big ideas, small ideas, no ideas at all... not poetry in motion, just motion.

I am completely focused on the 42km on Sunday. The hours spent at work seem painfully still; looking forward to being painfully active in a few short days.

Sounds:
Bill DeRome - Liquid Light. Played this guy on my podcast, and can't get over it. The full album available for free. Life with You and New Years Resolution are stunners.

Pheidippidations - the ultimate podcast

Seventh Standard - Slow Burn... definitely a marathon song.

Eagle*Seagull - Photograph. Arcade Fire + Wolf Parade sound, from Nebraska. can't go wrong.

*NOTE* Marathon playlist is still wide open. Add songs in the comments.

Ottawa Pod

2006-05-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

Its almost here. Amazingly, 20 weeks of training have been reduced to one. Thats right, one week from TODAY, I will be running the ING National Capital Marathon in Ottawa Ontario.

So you know the drill, the playlist is open source. I have continued this project on my podcast, Podsafe Revolution, with the goal of finding 3 hours and 20 minutes of podsafe music.

But for you, because you read this blog... you can post whatever songs you want, and I'll add them in... and its not just one song per person, add as many as you want.

A new soundtrack

2006-05-06T13:19:00.000-07:00

Wolfmother's new album is detonating my brain today. Equal parts Led and Zep, with a dash of White Stripes thrown in. Just when you start to crave it, the cowbell hits.

Buy it or oink it, whatever you do, just listen to it. and turn it up loud

Checkpoint 2

2006-04-30T20:04:00.000-07:00

Today was the Kingston Half Marathon. Run under perfect conditions, clear skies, peak temperature of around 18C (64F for the imperialists) and not too much wind.

My goal was to run sub 1:35, to prove to myself that fitness is increasing, without totally devastating my legs and ruining an entire week of training. Goal accomplished, a new PR of 1:34:00. Felt good through most of the race, although at the top of the biggest hill, at the 16km point, I felt as if my stomach was slowly eroding, meaning that famous wall was ever so close. Had to scale it back for half a kilometer, and then had at it again.

Next up is Ottawa, the real deal. The next 4 weeks of training are mapped out. This week will be my peak mileage of the entire program, then I will slightly scale it back the following week, and then taper for two weeks. Last fall, the taper was too long, and I got bored and stale. And Don scolded me :) Lesson learned.

So, the first two objectives have been completed, 28 days to go.

Anyone who wants to join me, you've got 4 weeks of training ahead of you... any takers? Mattiek? Diesel? Tobbi?!?

Well deserved sleep ahead, tomorrow morning's workday will come too soon.

HalfPod

2006-04-29T08:21:00.001-07:00

Half marathon tomorrow - starts at 9:30 am. Weather forecast is beautiful, high of 16C, not a drop of rain anywhere in sight.

I need a playlist. Open source. Bonus points for podsafe!

The Boston Miracle

2006-04-16T20:37:00.000-07:00

So, today is Easter - a day when all sorts of miracles were said to have happened. Well, I guess you could argue that they happened a week from now, if you're following an orthodox calendar...but thats all semantics; temporal inflation of a few cents on the dollar over the course of a few thousand years. The stories are pretty mad when you think about it. Agony and pain and coming back from the dead. Pretty heavy stuff.

Its all become pretty detached though - I mean, the whole thing got twisted and somehow bunnies started laying eggs made of chocolate. Not to say that bunnies are bad.. or that religion is inherently good... its just all mixed up. Its all so distant that some might argue its easier to believe in a magic bunny than it is to believe in crosses, carpenters and angels.

Tomorrow is the Boston marathon. And for me, tomorrow will have more images of agony, pain and coming back from the dead than Easter ever has. That might seem blasphemous to some, but hey, this is a digital age. I'm going to take a creative commons artistic license, and just let my metaphor be.

Religion talks about purity, peace of mind and devotion to a single cause. The runners tomorrow will fulfill each of those criteria, mile after painful mile. Regardless of pace or form, each will be so dedicated to their sole (soul?) purpose that they will go to the extremes of their ability to achieve their objective. In front of thousands of spectators, runners will bare it all, revealing far more truth than could be expected in confession. They will strip away any social masks to reveal the human animal that lives within us all, and use all that they are to make a pilgrimage to Boston.

Now I could end this with any number of clichés, comparing a runner's high to heavenly bliss... or the doldrums of hypoglycemia to the darkness of hell, but this is a blog post, not a t-shirt slogan. And, while there will be plenty of slogans to be seen on t-shirts tomorrow, the truth will be read from faces. There we will see the Easter sentiments in the flesh: The fast start, full of promise; the pain and suffering on heartbreak hill; the exultation of coming back from the brink.

You often hear athletes talking about God; a deity who has somehow become as wrapped up in touchdown dances and slam dunks as it has with chocolate eggs. Marathoners, however, are a different breed. The runners tomorrow will be praying to anything they can get their mind around. Because at mile 23, whether its God or a magic chocolate egg-laying rabbit, you need all the help you can get.

Good Luck Runners

Warm and Cold

2006-04-13T17:11:00.000-07:00

Its warm out. Its warm everywhere. Except for my nose.

After making it through the entire winter, spending days surrounded by 4 walls and virus infested young people without becoming afflicted with their various plagues... my immune system has finally taken a vacation. The last two days have been sunny outside, but cloudy in my head.

Ran in shorts on Tuesday night for the first time since October... then took last night off because there was no chance of breathing. Good thing its a recovery week. Gonna get all fixed up and then get rockin' again for the Ktown Half and then Ottawa.

Gonna try to head out for a run tonight, maybe I'll find some nasal clarity.

Music lately:

The Radio Dept - Pet Grief: indie popsters from Sweden channel the spirit of The Cure's Disintegration without the overwhelming darkness.

The Streets - The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living: Mike Skinner is a genius. Although the record seems slightly formulaic, with two sappy/grimey ballads, sounding like the Naked Chef in therapy... when the garage beats heat up and Skinner starts dropping those British phrases that North American hipsters ain't never heard, (pranging out? thats sooo grimeposh), it really rips.

TV on the Radio - Return To Cookie Mountain: Anything they touch is gold... indie rocker barbershop never gets old! Check the track "Wolf Like Me"... sounds like an anthem for something... haven't quite figured out what for.

Wow. it works

2006-03-30T09:58:00.000-08:00

My plea to the google-gods worked. Woke up this morning, gmail widgets working like a charm.

hmm... lets try something else.

HEY GOOGLERS! DESTROY BARRY BONDS' KNEES BEFORE 714

More Sounds For the Sun

2006-03-29T20:39:00.000-08:00

Is it safe to say that the snow is gone yet? With April 1st looming around the corner, I am close to extinguishing the torch of winter 2006. I ran today, again without a jacket, mits or hat. We're not in shorts and tshirt mode yet, but its a far cry from the days of triple layers, balaclavas and frozen eyelashes.

Another record for spring ears.

The Secret Machines - Ten Silver Drops.

Check out the single "Lighting Blue Eyes" for your new anthem.

Why isn't my gmail checker dashboard widget working? Doesn't google own blogger? Maybe if I shout loud enough, the google people will hear me.

HEY GOOGLERS, FIX MY GMAIL WIDGET. Thank You

Around the Bay, Bay-Bee

2006-03-26T20:59:00.000-08:00

Today was the day... race #1 of the 3 race plan for the spring.

Hamilton, Ontario's Around The Bay 30km race. The oldest roadrace in North America... 112th annual, for those who are counting.

For you Americans, 30km is a metric measurement, used by most citizens of the planet Earth. It roughly equates to 18.65 miles.

Beautiful day, sunny and 7°C (45F Yankee temp)... ran pretty consistent splits, and heart rate didn't really fluctuate by more than 2 beats per min.

Final time: 2hrs 17min 35sec.

I am pleased.

Next up, K-Town Half: April 30th, 2006.

Now, some well needed sleep.

Open Source Playlist

2006-03-24T22:48:00.000-08:00

The time has come again... running a 30K on Sunday. iPod shuffle will of course be running with me.

time to open source the playlist again.

IF you have a song to recommend or that you wanna request, drop a comment. as many as you can think of.

Lets call it, the podzilla project.

stellar weather

2006-03-23T11:52:00.000-08:00

The sun has come back. And with new sun, comes new music.

Expect a flurry of new album rants in the coming days/weeks.

Today's MUST have album:

stellastar* - Harmonies for the Haunted.

First caught this on the Morning Becomes Eclectic Podcast with Nic Harcourt... and shortly thereafter, iTunes'd the album.

Its like... take Interpol, U2 and the theatrics of the Killers (minus Brandon Flowers' ego)... and shake thoroughly.

Check out the podcast or just acquire the album, iTunes or uhh..otherwise.

Has the ninja ever led you astray? Thank me later

Haiku

2006-03-21T19:44:00.000-08:00

Internet busted
Sending a tech on Thursday
Second time this month

Just one blinking light
riding the neighbour's wi-fi
I won't pay the bill

if i had a gun
I would shoot all the squirrels
No more eating wires

Besbol

2006-03-19T21:20:00.000-08:00

A couple months back, I had a little post on here regarding the rules surrounding Cuba's participation in the inaugural World Baseball Classic. After (far too much) deliberation, they were, of course, allowed to play.

When I saw the tournament set up, the possibility of a USA vs Cuba final was very apparent. However, as has been the case in several recent world sporting events, the idea of North American (well, in this case, American) domination being a foregone conclusion proved to be oh so very wrong. The rest of the world has indeed caught up. With North American media focusing on glitz and celebrity, those practicing sound fundamentals have lapped the stagnant field. The US was sent home, with a collective batting average that would send most ballplayers for a vacation to play on teams in the middle of South Carolina, Iowa or Kansas...aka: the minor leagues. Special props go out to Mark Teixera... nice job going 0-for-the-whole-damn-tournament.

It feels as though many people haven't paid much attention to this event. Perhaps they are caught up in the NCAA tournament and only have an attention span for so much sports. Maybe people just aren't in a baseball mindset so early in the spring. Although the American team was, frankly, boring... the rest of the games have been quite good... The passion that the majority of the players bring to the games is a refreshing change from the monotony of the 162 game Major League season. Its like October came early... or maybe late.

Loved the Venezuela vs Dominican matchup. The Korea vs Japan series (played 3 times!! Maybe the format could be tweaked next time to prevent this?) has been epic. And Cuba has not disappointed.

Tomorrow night - Cuba vs Japan. Going to be awesome. This ninja is rooting heavily for Cuba... in a climate full of steroid shooting, lazy millionaires, seeing a team composed entirely of non-Major-Leaguers crowned as baseball's finest will be more than a breath of fresh air; it will be a hurricane force gale of blissful refreshment.

24 can wait, thats what bit torrent is for. My TV will be watching the besbol revolution.

Maybe Less Cheeba

2006-03-15T22:48:00.000-08:00

In 2005, Morcheeba released The Antidote, and I was excited. Ever since hearing their seductive trip-hop beats over the whirr of the dishwasher during a summer in a downtown restaurant, I was hooked. With the exception of Fragments of Freedom, which eschewed some of the trip hop tendencies for pop music... the albums were gems.

The Antidote was a disappointment. Something was missing. Out of nowhere, lead vox, Skye Edwards had been replaced. I don't think I have listened to the album more than once.

I have now discovered the true antidote to Morcheeba's bad medicine. After being unceremoniously given the boot by the brother's Morcheeba, Skye has released her own album, called "Mind How You Go". The voice is still there... perhaps some of the hop has been taken out of the trip, but its still dark and swirling when it has to be.

Sure makes the boys back in the Cheeba look silly for ever dropping her... too much cheeba can do that to ya.

Run to the sun

2006-03-12T20:19:00.000-08:00

Last two days have been amazing weather - almost makes you wonder if spring is here early. Temp hit 7C or so yesterday, and probably up another degree today. Did a 10 mile run yesterday on tired legs. Took a good 6 miles to warm up. Today was scheduled for 20 - and waking up to gray and rain did not add to the motivation. I debated just going out in the rain, and trying to make the best of it, but, for the sake of my iPod Shuffle (who does not know how to swim), I decided to wait it out. The staring contest lasted for several hours - me watching the raindrops trickle through the leaves on the tree outside my window, the rain stopping and starting every few minutes in an attempt to lure me outside.

Finally, at 3pm, the clouds started to part. Apparently the sun was having a day-long staring contest with the rain as well, and coupled with my efforts, the clouds had met their match. The first slivers of sunbeams hit the streets seconds before I did, vaporizing the puddles in front of me as if I was someone important. Rather than a red carpet, dry pavement was unfurled in honour of the arrival of each step. Apparently, the other runners received invitations to the VIP sunshine event, as they flocked into the oncoming sunbeams in ever increasing numbers.

The run was only supposed to last 20 miles. Twice as many as yesterday. You'd think that twice the distance would come with twice the effort, especially considering the legs' ability to remember past events. That, however, is not always the case. The first few miles were average, but once I left town and hit the long stretches of highway - the miles just melted away with the last few swatches of snow. Perhaps it was the refreshing 5 degree temperature change between the tops of the hills and waterfront valleys in between, perhaps it was the fresh air, or maybe just the combination of endorphins and the thoughtless mind, but rather than doing the practical thing and turning around at the ten mile mark, I kept going. The road ahead held more hills, and the sun was close to dropping out of the sky, whether I was still on the highway or not. But I kept going, until I felt like turning around (after a while, the brain does engage, if only to prevent the tendency to migrate like a buffalo).

Upon returning to town, I hit a gnarly hill that I often use as a gauge of fitness. Its about half a mile to the top, with a deceptive flat section about halfway up. After 21 miles, I would have forgiven my legs if they had simply said no. But they didn't. We made it. Because of the elevation, each steep step literally made the evening air warmer. Got to the top just in time to catch the sunset over the city.

I'm just hoping that my legs continue to say yes, for more important events, such as getting out of bed tomorrow morning.

From A Balance Beam

2006-02-24T14:49:00.003-08:00

Sometimes when you're preparing for something, you can get so caught up in the short term, that you lose focus of what is going on around you. The mind zooms in so close that it can count every fiber of the task at hand, an intensity in focus that is sometimes required for a project to be completed. The problem occurs when the body becomes absorbed into the high definition of the task at hand, and loses the perspective provided by the rest of the world.

Lately, I've been preparing for an interview - a health gig, concerning physical activity. After hours of research, writing and refining, I hit that point. The point where the mind has hit the maximum zoom, the point where no matter how hard you concentrate, you are devoid of new ideas. Like a cheap digital camera, once this point is hit, the more you try to zoom in, no new information is gained - you just have the tendency to blow things up.

My computer screen sat in front of me, tempting me to edit, refine and work late into the night. My shoes sat by the door, still muddy from a weekend run. The two objects could not have been more different. The screen, its bright lights and microprocessors promising speed and efficiency, trying to seduce me with billions of operations per second. The shoes, beaten up and silent, offered nothing more than companionship: unable to perform even one operation on their own. I was presented with a binary decision, the computer's power and task oriented 1's, versus the shoes' unpowered 0's. The choice was easy.

Before I knew it, I was outside. Save for the cold breeze rustling frozen trees, and my shoes keeping time, the world was silent. Perhaps hypnotized by the complimentarily rhythmic pattern of foot strikes and breathing, or maybe simply relishing in its newfound lack of responsibility, my mind was quiet. Despite having been sitting for most of the day, these miles were the most effortless action of the day.

Legs after all, are designed to move.
Lungs are designed to breathe.
A heart is designed to beat.

The feelings of silence continued for several miles. Although a watch was on my wrist, its ability to keep time went unnoticed. A watch after all is much like a computer; able to do work for us, its measurements unfailing in their digital precision. There is nothing digital about running. Each apparently effortless movement actually overflows with effort. Each step is slightly different than the last, these slight imperfections serving to perfect the movement.

Running is analogue, running is human.

Suddenly, without even noticing, I had reached that point. The point where no matter how hard you are working, you are full of new ideas.

I knew then, that I had found it. It is often written about, but never accurately captured. Undoubtedly physiological, and yet inherently spiritual, it is the moment where everything clicks. It is the moment where everything is interesting and anything is possible. It is the moment where time stands still. Rational logic, the kind that governs watches and computers, dictates that time cannot stand still. My shoes, however, governed only by my ability to make them move, do not believe in logic - they only believe in it.

I moved through the streets as if on autopilot. Before I knew it, I was standing back where I started. Apparently my shoes and I were done for the day. I walked around the block, appreciating my final few moments with it. It, you see, does not often follow you inside. As I took off my shoes, the noises of the world came back to me. My watch beeped instinctively, to remind me of the hour that had passed and the new hour just beginning. The computer screen flickered in the dark room, reiterating its promise of billions of effortless calculations. I took off my watch, and turned off the screen.

I knew everything I needed to know. The document I had prepared was now complete. It contained the same numbers and figures, the same objectives and plans of action as it had when I left it. What it had needed, were spirit and life. Spirit and life are not digital. Spirit and life exist only when we step out of our daily lives and remind ourselves what is important. It is important, and it is available to each and every one of us.... if only we would stop thinking and stop searching long enough to let it find us.

Looj

2006-02-15T13:52:00.000-08:00

Y'know how cyclists sleep in altitude tents to improve their VO2? I'm just wondering... do two man luge teams sleep on top of each other, to improve their... coordination?

And is it against to rules to have a team member that isn't named Wolfgang?

When I grow up...

2006-02-07T22:39:00.001-08:00

Rolled into a dollar store today to pick up some balloons for a demo i was doing at school. Y'know the usual, setting up some hydrogen filled balloons and blowing them up with a candle on a stick. Nothing like some fireballs to liven up chemistry.

As I'm buying the balloons, I grab a lighter frrom the rack next to the cash. Just in case there is no fire-making-equipment available, having a lighter around would definitely make the whole blowing things up scene a lot more lively.

The woman behind the cash looks at me. Stone faced. Serious. "You got ID?"

I look back at her. Trying to stifle an "are you kidding me" smile.

So, i take the "she is kidding me and rocking a killer poker face" approach, offering her enough money for both the balloons and the lighter. I realize my mistake immediately. The odds of her kidding me suddenly dropped like an assymptote approaching zero - in a hurry. Her glare suddenly resembled that of a hostile lizard crossed with an aggressive bull on the streets of Pamplona. "DO YOU HAVE ID?" - the question repeated. I think it might have actually echoed.

Of course, I had no ID. I tried, in vain, to push my money forward and be on my merry way, but she would have none of it.

I realized, with the aid of the bulging vein in her forehead and steam coming from her ears, that I had one final shot at this, before she pressed a secret security button to haul me off to jail. "I'm using these for a demo today..teaching, at a school".

That was it. Apparently one of the words I had used was the magic angry word of the day. Her volume rose, as quickly as my desire to live fell. "THESE, SIR, are TOBACCO PRODUCTS... and YOU are a MINOR"

Seeing as how my chances of rationalizinig with her were sinking fast, I opted to avoid rational avenues of negotiation.

"Well, what about matches"
"NO, those are tobacco products sir!"
"Ok, is there anything else you won't let me buy?"

(at this point, I am paying for the balloons, fearing that she might actually throw me out of the store in our battle of wits)

"You cannot buy rolling papers either"

"Awww, thats a shame. The lighter I can deal with... The matches... fine. But, how do you expect me to smoke these balloons without papers?"

What have you done with winter?

2006-01-28T21:48:00.000-08:00

So its January. And its 8 C. Well, not right now its not. But it was. My dashboard still has the numbers to prove it. Felt good to lose a few pounds of clothing layers for the run today. In the end, I probably even chickened out a bit - wore a toque and mits, but after a mile or so, they were nothing more than thermal ballast. I was tempted to hide them behind a tree, or in a backyard along the route, but I sensed Jack Frost hiding somewhere behind the weekend, and thought better of the potential loss. Thermal ballast this week may well become the only thing between my fingers and ears and inevitable amputation, should the weather gods realize that they March isn't spelled J-A-N-U-A-R-Y.

But it was nice for a change: avoided the treadmills and ice that have been standard fare for the last couple months. The sensation of dry, solid pavement was foreign for the first several hundred meters. The soles of my feet had lost their touch with the laws of summer physics - the texturized conversations with Sir Isaac himself, discussing the equal and yet opposite points of view that shoes and pavement are meant to have when free of slippery distraction. Forces of opposition often get a bad reputation, but with pavement, I live for nothing less. Today's run was like a heavyweight fight - each jarring blow delivered to my concrete opponent matched, breath for breath, step for step, with the end result of sacred, beautiful propulsion.

It was only seven miles today though. If I had a crystal ball, and i knew what the weather would have in store for me tomorrow, I may have chosen to double today's distance, take advantage of the warm weather and get the heavy lifting out of the way. That would have definitely made things easier for tomorrow - especially if the skies come to their senses and go back to pelting me with snow, sleet and rain, and literally pulling the ground out from under me. But, this isn't about making things easier. What it is about, is taking things as they come - putting one foot in front of the other and getting things done. After all, tomorrow is the last Sunday in January, the first Sunday since autumn without an afternoon of football awaiting me. Without that to fill the day, what else is there to do on a Sunday afternoon?

Shiny Toy Guns

2006-01-07T00:46:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, the way things work out is too awesome to put into words. So I will keep this short.

It all started back on the folk singer front. Podsafe'd a track last week, and its been met with great reviews and played on some very cool shows. Should give them props now Cast-On, a knitcast... Podgy's Tokyo Talk - a talk and music show from, obviously, tokyo... and most recently a very cool show from the UK called Things Reunited. Listened to episode 15 of Things Reunited, where they played the new track, and came across a wicked indie band called Shiny Toy Guns. After only hearing one track - Rainy Monday - i bounced to iTunes and purchased the album.

Been listening to it in the last couple hours, and its quite damn good. Interesting mix of indie pop/rock + synth dance vibes. Hmm... maybe the best way to describe is taking the vocals from Creeper Lagoon (for the male vocalist at least), and dropping it on top of a bouncy synth riff from The Sounds. When the female vocals drop... it scales back, to ethereal pop.

Very cool disc.. check it out on iTunes or their myspace

lizzo. out

Totally Krossed Out

2006-01-01T00:45:00.000-08:00

Seeing as its New Years, I took the time today to listen to an old classic... timeless music of which I will never tire. Ok, scratch that. I listened to Kris Kross - Totally Krossed Out. I didn't listen to the whole disc, just a few tracks. Just enough tracks to make sure that I still know all the words. I might have to put that on my resume!

Excellent Memory - capable of reciting an entire album of rap lyrics from the year 1992 when required. Includes memorization of difficult words such as wiggidiwiggidiwhack. Also willing to wear clothes backwards if necessary.

My history with this album is pretty deep. It must've all started in the summer of 1992... there was this really cool kid at a science camp. No, it wasn't me. He made me a tape of Totally Krossed Out - and changed my life. There was also a girl - and she knew that they spelled their names Kris. She thought she was really cool, because she knew all about them, but in retrospect.. she was not cool. She was a groupie, for a pair of 12 year old kids wearing their pants backwards... thats wiggidiwhack indeed.

I remember dropping that tape into my bright yellow Sony walkman, and hearing the sounds of the ghetto!! Maybe for a second, I thought everyone in the ghetto sounded like that... they sounded so raw? no... thats not it... it was... rough! Nah...they were... castrated? Maybe thats it. But that didn't matter - cause this was hot. My cousin quickly remarked "Oh, I used to listen to Chris Cross! That guy rocks." But no, this wasn't that Christopher Cross... that weird dude that somehow won Grammy Awards back when a sax solo made girls melt... these guys wore their pants backwards and spelled their names Kris. Yeah. Me and my walkman - we were rad.

Later that fall, my birthday rolled around. A good friend got me a legit copy of the tape (see RIAA, sometimes piracy does work out). Man, that album cover was off the hook - their pants were on BACKWARDS! Damn. The quote still echoes in my ears: "It was a tough choice... it was either this, or Shakespeare's Sister. But I thought you'd like this one more. Shakespeare's Sister seems like a bit of a fad.". Thanks Joel, you made the right choice. Although that track Stay was stellar at the time, 14 years later, it can't hold a torch to I Missed The Bus. I also got the tape of U2 - Achtung Baby that birthday... that album was ok, but they didn't wear their pants backwards or anything.

I guess I sort of grew away from Kris Kross over the years... That second disc "Da BOMB" just wasn't very good. I think I might have gotten it from Columbia House for a penny or something. I got ripped off. There was a flicker of hope one night, when I heard some high pitched voices rapping on 93.5 FM... the voices were so similar! But alas, it was Salt-n-Pepa. Years passed, and I didn't even think to Jump Jump... but like all good romance stories, we found our way back together. I was working at a restaurant one summer in high school. One of the cooks asked me if i could help him move on a Saturday morning. The dude was named Mouse.. and he looked like a Mouse... yknow, how the biggest dude in prison is called Tiny? Yeah, he was Mouse in that sorta way. Like 6'6", 260. So, we did the moving thing, and instead of paying me for the help, he let me raid an old shoe box of CDs. There was some crap in there... but then at the bottom - there it was. Totally Krossed Out. on CD. Although digital, it still sounded the same... we had been re-united.

Quickly thereafter, the world of music opened up. MP3 became a part of the lingo, and CDs started to gather dust. Those old tapes were practically growing plants out of the ecosystem of dust that had built up on top. My walkman had been stolen years before, and my discman skipped a lot. Soon enough, iPod and thousands of songs at my fingertips. Although some nostalgic classics were mixed between the pitchfork hipster indie playlists (Michael Jackson - Dangerous, anyone???) there was no Kris Kross in sight. Maybe I was paranoid of playlist judgment, that terrifying moment that occurs during a headphone-jacking when you might curse that choice of adding Celine Dion to your iTunes (no, I've never been there... its a metaphor, i swear).

But today, through a generous friend, on the far side of the globe, whom I have never met, and the beauty that is Bit Torrent, we have again been reunited (RIAA, i own the tape and the CD... just a reminder... you've got your dime...)... again, we have been reunited. The voices are still too high, the sound effects sound pretty dated... and Jermaine Dupri mumbling in the background sounds, well... like a pedophile, but the album is a classic. i will add it to my iPod, and I won't be ashamed. Because anything less, would be wiggidiwiggidiwhack.

So This Is The New Year....

2005-12-31T23:40:00.000-08:00

This is gonna be short, because its almost 3 am, but a few more updates will be coming in the next few days. It must be the holidays, cause i'm up late! Not having to wake up at 6 am to wait for work is a nice relief. Definitely less cash, but more sleep for sure.

On the folk singer front, got a new demo posted over on Dre's site, and its been getting some pretty good feedback so far. Bounce over and check it out. Lots of new stuff coming in the next few months for them, so its gonna be exciting! We also just podsafed the track - so it will hopefully be getting some spins shortly... got my fingers crossed for DSC.

This week has been full of music, and that will explode all over this ninjabase in the coming days. More than i've had time to listen to. I'm following diesel with the recommendation for the new Arctic Monkeys album. The bootleg demo tape has been rocking my pod, and the album is continue that trend. Also got the new Saint Etienne record, Tales From Turnpike House, on the recommendation of Wired.

Big Brother

2005-12-26T23:16:00.000-08:00

Big Brother watched me run today. Satellites followed my every step... well, it screwed up a few steps... they thought i went left, when i really went right. I guess ninjas are even able to dodge satellites, which is good to know should I ever find myself trying to skirt the authorities.

Testing the Garmin ForeRunner 301, and i am very impressed. GPS, heart rate... hell, it even has a stopwatch!! Because the included logbook software has Win 98 listed in its minimum requirements, the included CD might as well be a frisbee to me. But a simple google search reveals several open source and shareware GPS software solutions for OS X. Haven't tried any yet, but tomorrow I will. I wanna try out MacGPS Pro, but they have no demo. I'm not gonna pay $60 for something based on screenshots... I'll have to test some different ones first.

The possibilities here sound too good to be true. If you pair up Google Maps with these GPS programs and handhelds.. you get caches of running routes! Going to a city? download a bunch of new maps before you go... test out the route with the most stars in the user review, or the best hills around. Is this already happening? I freakin' hope so. Point me in the right direction!!! If not, then damn...might as well make some anti-freeze iPod headphones while you're making this mapping solution happen... and again, i'll see you in court!

The Cuban Baseball Crisis

2005-12-15T23:24:00.000-08:00

There is a famous Abbott and Costello comedy sketch detailing the occupants of each position on a baseball field. Endless questions and equally endless non-answers lead to exasperation and frustration of hilarious proportions. As the baseball world prepares for the inaugural World Baseball Classic, sixteen nations are engaged in such debates concerning their national squad. Breaking news from Washington: finally a definitive set answers to the old line of questioning. Who's on first? What's on second? The response is startlingly clear: if you're Cuban, it doesn't matter. Because you're not allowed to play.

From an athletic standpoint, the decree makes little sense. Regardless of political differences, Cuba shares the Latin American passion for the game. If baseball is America's national past-time, it is Cuba's present tense; one nation under beisbol. And yet, one month following President Fidel Castro's unexpected and celebrated acceptance, the invitation has been revoked. In the opinion of the US Treasury Department, Cuban participation in the event would be in the best interest of the the socialist government, and therefore falls prey to the 1962 embargo imposed upon the country by John F. Kennedy. How the mandated distribution of profits between minor league baseball organizations could be remotely related to political gain, however, has yet to be revealed.

What was discussed however, was an act of international diplomacy to quickly resolve the debate. Not wanting to completely dash Cuban baseball ambitions, the United States responded with an insulting gesture of generosity. On the same day that the Bush administration trumpeted about democratic elections in Iraq, free of American influence, it was suggested by several politicians that the United States compile a team of American players with Cuban heritage, on behalf of the island. Ironic, isn't it? Imagine a Canadian hockey team was assembled in the same fashion. If there was ever one cause grand enough to motivate a consensual attack on our southern neighbours, that would be it.

Even in politics, there are exceptions to every rule. After watching the clamoring of Major League general managers to sign Cubans Jose Contreras and the brothers Hernandez (Orlando and Livan), it is clear that, despite public policy, there is no embargo on the importation baseball players. Once a Cuban player renounces their affiliation with Castro, they become worthy of playing baseball with Americans. Suddenly, with their axis of evil status voided, they become incredibly desirable. Desirable enough, in fact, that three Cuban ballplayers were signed to the Texas Rangers under the ownership of one George W. Bush. It has often been suggested that if Elian Gonzalez had been found with a baseball glove and a fastball, Major League owners would have ensured him a home on American soil.

The most pressing question is, what is the American government afraid of? The climate at hand is different than that of 1962. This is no Cuban Missile Crisis, we're talking about a game. There are no political systems or contested territories at stake. A Cuban victory would not miraculously stifle American democracy any more than an American victory would threaten Cuban health care. If anyone can be accused of stockpiling arms, the guilty parties would be the American Major Leagues. The arms would belong to Cuban pitchers. If there is a concern about illegal weaponry, one needn't look further than the borderline bionic body of Barry Bonds (USA) or Sammy Sosa's corked bat (Dominican Republic).

The way the American Treasury is posturing, one might envision Castro on first, Guevera on second, and Osama on third. Word around the oval office has it that Kim Jong-Il has a mean curve ball. Despite the public hysteria, the free world needn't despair - the aforementioned won't be there. Since Fidel has announced that not even Cuban defectors will be eligible to play for their country, the lineup in question will consist of players who are relatively unknown off of the island. Not even the blessed purity of baseball is at risk, neither Joe Jackson or Pete Rose have anything remotely resembling a Cuban passport.

Regardless of your stance concerning Cuban politics or American foreign policy, a Cuban entry into the championships would be a breath of fresh air into a sports market dominated by big name players with even bigger pay cheques. If America wants to truly defend its past time, the competition should include the best the world has to offer. If that includes a sunny island off the coast of Miami, so be it. If it takes baseball to bring parties together and leave politics behind them, let's make it happen. After all, that's what our games are for.

The Ninja Edit

2005-12-06T20:51:00.000-08:00

The past few days have been busssssy. Between teaching and coaching, time to write on here is scarce. However, busy is good. Walking to and from practice has provided ample time for listening to podcasts. The early darkness and cold air brings the hood up and the toque down. Gotta stash the headphones deep in the layers of clothing, at least under the jacket - otherwise the frozen cord makes it feel like I'm listening to music through a coat hanger. How difficult would it be to produce headphones with a freeze-proof plastic? Maybe not cost effective - but I'd pay for it. Anyways, let the record show that I thought of it first... you can go work on it, invent it, try to market it. Proof of concept is here, I'll see you in court.

Walking to practice means music - walking home seems to be podcasts. Podcast-wise, its been Endurance Radio, Daily Source Code, some Accident Hash for indie podsafe music, and D&D for mindless entertainment. Any suggestions for podcasts - drop a comment.

Music-wise, its never been better. Grabbed a copy of this year's Grey Album ... Green Day vs Dean Gray - The American Edit. American Idiot is a great album, I never thought I'd be listening to Green Day in 2005... but they proved me wrong. Yet, the album is rife with influence - some obvious, others not so much. The mash up puts the missing pieces back into some songs, Bryan Adams and Johnny Cash sing their own parts on American Jesus (aka: jesus of suburbia)... and in other parts, new pieces are added to the puzzle to create a more interesting picture. I don't know if I'll ever be ever to listen to "whatshername" without a helping of The Bangles' Manic Monday. I'll post more about music later... its hard for anything to compete with this album right now.

Lets face it, we live in a remix culture. The best new ideas are old ideas, with a new spin. Retro is always coming back, to the point when its not retro, its gone again. The best marketing departments understand that the best slogan is one that you've already heard, applied in a new way. If you've heard something a million times, and on the million and first, its associated with something new, its clever - its novel - it makes you smile. It never makes you hate the original. It pushes things forward. With that being said, the aforementioned mashup album has been banned. If you combine Cease and Desist, you can roughly form "Disease" - the plague of legal involvement in anything progressive. The same Grey Album that was banned, was later named Album of the Year by Time Magazine. Its propagation was helped by online activism - the famous "Grey Tuesday". Rallying behind the Dean Gray album, a new "Dean Gray Tuesday" is being organized. Download the album from the links provided here. Burn discs, throw it on your iPod, enjoy it.

If you like it, buy the Green Day album... If you really like it, you might follow in my footsteps... I still can't believe it, but I just bought The Bangles' track from iTunes. Long live Mashups!

Failure is Imminent

2005-11-21T09:19:00.000-08:00

No work today... its a short week, so I'm not counting on too many days. Maybe some more time to write nonsense on the inkernet. Definitely more time to check out new records.

The topic of today's post is failure. I was thinking about this the other night, and then RSS summed it all up. Wil Shipley, of delicious monster writes an ode to failure... pushing yourself to the limit, without fear of losing yourself in the process.

In the spirit of laying it all on the line, I have pretty much decided my spring running schedule. Might as well put it down in pixels. If anyone wants to run these as well, let me know (i'm lookin at you mattiek).

March 26 - Around The Bay 30k in Hamilton, ON.

Early May (TBA) - Kingston Half Marathon

May 28 - Ottawa Marathon in Ottawa, ON.

Bring on the cold... let it snow... til there's no sunlight left at all... looks like we're setting ourselves on fire again.

iPod Therefore iAm

2005-11-17T13:25:00.000-08:00

Another week, another collection of frequencies bouncing around the ninja lair. Lets get right to it, shall we?

Kano- Bars and Beats Mixtape: Call it grime, call it garage (no no, not that garage, this is garridge, mate), grab the mixtape. Looks like its a promo only deal, but its worth the effort. The smooth vocals are still there, but the pace is quickened and the rhymes are tighter.

New London Fire - I Sing The Body Holographic: Not necessarily groundbreaking; there are no boundaries being pushed here... you can hear the influences changing with every song. The Killers are in there, Keane is lurking, a heavy dose of U2 on "we don't bleed". When you can write melodies and hooks this well, a little bit of nicking your contemporaries can be forgiven: this is an extremely solid disc.

Eisley - Trolly Wood - Another headphone gem, courtesy of Shuffle. Telescope Eyes ruled this album for a long time, but the lilting harmonies on this track are just...well.. fun! Any song combining pop melodies, female vocals, country twang and the word hallelujah are cool in my books.

Grandaddy - Nature Anthem. Sometimes, commercials get it right... choosing the right song, and using it in just the right way. The song is actually enhanced by the corporate imagery. The last car commercial that grabbed me used The Flaming Lips "Do You Realize"... people were happy and smiling, apparently because of their car. This time Grandaddy has written a pop chorus so catchy that it doesn't need a verse... standard pastoral nature imagery, only without the usual odes to broken appliances. Its on the "Below The Radio" compilation - a custom Grandaddy authored mixtape... iTunes it.

I'd Like To Buy A Vowel

2005-11-16T17:04:00.000-08:00

A word is a powerful thing: a collection of letters that when added together in combination can describe anything imaginable. When words come together, meaning is invoked, stories are told and lessons are learned. However, a word only becomes meaningful with a mind present to interpret its symbolism. Rhetoric, stimulates the mind to sense meaning deeper than what is actually on the page. The style of writing brings forth imagery and emotion in the reader, with the letters on the page simply serving as the vector between the writer's thoughts and reader's imagination.

The ability of the mind to wander into the beauty of text is limited only by the energy that must be devoted to decoding the letters themselves. The rest is easy. Authors may use eloquent vocabulary, prose vibrant as the brightest colours, symbolism thick as molasses, or carefully crafted communication to stimulate the mind of the reader. Words need not be long, as short words work just as well. It jst nds 2 mk sns, 2 b undrstd.

Witness the power of the mind. Certainly, based on prior experience, context and pattern recognition the human brain can infer meaning from even words that are incomplete. In a world where paint peels off of signs, coffee spills on magazines, and printers improvise document margins, this ability is an incredible evolutionary leap. However, hand in hand with this realization of supreme decoding ability has come a staggering decline in the ability to encode language; to write, with both meaning and style.

The internet and mobile devices have created an infrastructure that puts communication at our fingertips; the world of instant messaging. The incredible ease of data transmission, coupled with small screens and limitations on data length, has fractured conversations into a culture of soundbytes, with both sentences and words truncated to their smallest possible forms. Look around, the signs are everywhere: Diddy and J-Lo on the cover of magazines, shipping with Fedex, paying with Amex. In the pursuit of greater instancy, the message suffers. Because the mind must focus on decoding the words themselves, it decreases the ability to read between the lines and find the true meaning. To see this, one must simply look at the two greatest poets in literary history. Dylan (Zimmerman, not Thomas), would not relate, as L8 is not a simple twist of fate. If Shakespeare could text us now, he would surely tell us that "2 b is not To Be". The removal of vowels leaves words unable to sing, scream or shout. As the mind struggles to piece together appropriate sounds, metaphors and similes go unfound, like buried treasure with an incomplete map.

The use of shorthand and abbreviations is nothing new, as the lecture notes of any undergraduate student will demonstrate. Nor are they limited to the realm of the young, text messaging masses, as any medical journal will demonstrate. However, in each case, they serve a higher purpose: simplifying extraneous information so that the message is not lost for the sake of details. Certainly, the risk of losing literary style in a mundane text message to a friend is not anything to lose sleep over. Its true: the screens are small, and although thumbs are opposable, they are simply not built for typing. The invention of punctuation-based faces and emotional cues have similar merit when space limits the ability to fully express sarcasm and humor.

However, outside of this limited scope of utilitarian communication, a real world exists. A world of pens, paper and pixels without 150 character limits: a world where anyone can state a message, but everyone searches for meaning. Recently, worlds have collided and writing has suffered. For the keen investors out there, put your money into shares of Wheel of Fortune, for if the world revolves around a balance of supply and demand, current market research shows the cost of vowels is soaring. Whether through habit, laziness or a false sense of creativity, student work seems more at home in the world of Nokia rather than that of academia. With the multitude of words in existence, each and every person can surely devise something more creative than a phonetic remix of proper grammar. If humour is indeed humourous, one needn't instruct the audience to laugh out loud. And with all the typing, texting and telecommunicating, surely the musculature and dexterity of the human hand is capable of the endurance that is necessary to construct every letter in a word, every word in a sentence.

Languages are in a constant state of flux, with slang, jargon and new styles continually penetrating the collective lexicon considered as proper. As our interaction with computer and electronic devices increases, perhaps the current trend towards explicit emotional direction will be necessary. Even the most creative work will require a tag or emotional cue to trigger the proper response from the digital audience; the best joke ever told will go over like a lead balloon without the requisite (lol) to indicate humour, the sarcastic comment requiring a wink to prevent misunderstanding and subsequent meltdown. Until then, take into account the humanity of the audience, embracing the rhetorical devices that have stood the test of time. The following statement may also serve as a guideline when communicating with other human beings, a philosophical concept that no computer could ever understand:
If a collection of fractured words sit on a page, and no one is able to read them, do they make a sound?
The simple answer? No ;).

Sonic The Substitute

2005-11-12T13:21:00.000-08:00

Been working more lately... maybe different is a better word than more. Working hours that are usually worked by normal people; sleeping for most of the hours that normal people sleep. Still on a bit of a vampire schedule, trying to fit everything into a day is sometimes worth keeping eyes open for a few extra hours. The new site is finished: so everyone go and show the rock star some love.

The more consistent work in the outside world provides ample opportunity for Podding new music. I've gotten so much new stuff lately that shuffle isn't gonna cut it, gotta listen to these ones all the way through: the way it was meant to be. Wrote another music post while working last week, and that will be posted soon. Here is today's update:

Hooverphonic - More Sweet Music/No More Sweet Music double album. The old albums are classics (New Stereophonic... and Blue Wonder Power Milk) ... staples... they never come off of the iPod.. this one continues the trend. More like Portishead than ever, this album is the liquid of cool. The lead single "Wake Up" sounds a million times better when the sun goes down and the subwoofer is up... bouncing beats off the moon and back to my waiting ear drums. If you're working on perfecting the late night bus/train playlist (one of my life goals...) give these tracks heavy consideration.

On that note, what ever happened to Portishead? Their site redirects to Beth Gibbons' site. Did she Beyonce Timberlake the group?

The Plastic Constellations - Crusades. Spun this one this morning... its brash. You know an album has a lot to live up to when the first song begins with the power chord that kicks off "Killing in the Name"! Some call this punk music... but the lines are blurring so quickly. As boybands with axes like Sum41 Blink182, Blink183 and Blink184 take on the punk mantle, this sorta stuff becomes indie rock. Parts of this album have the ferocity of a hard Dave Grohl vocal on top of the blitzkrieg re-bop of Bloc Party. Sounds angry and exciting. Count me in.

James Blunt - Back to Bedlam. Is this popular? Isn't that the best feeling... when you cut yourself off from the machine that tells you what is supposed to be popular. without watching music videos, without listening to radio... i can hear a melody like this, and wonder... how popular is this guy... should i hate this? "You're Beautiful" seems like the sort of song that people might love to hate if they had to hear it a thousand times a day. It is the song that might be ruined by big playlist in the sky (*cough* ClearChannel)... the puke reflex that comes from having something incessitantly shoved down your throat doesn't happen when you're left to discover it yourself... it's suddenly turned into an iPod masterpiece. If you hate it, then you hate it... but at least you're not hating it because someone told you once an hour that brussel sprouts are good for you.

Who Are You, and What Have You Done With October?

2005-11-02T23:06:00.000-08:00

Its funny, how certain periods of time have a feeling to them: an unmeasurable quantity associated with the hours and minutes, like a massless weight dangling from the second hand of the ticking clock. This concept is easily noticeable when you think of the days in a week. The bleary eyed feeling of a Monday morning is perhaps the most widely agreed upon emotion on the planet. The stark contrast between the carefree Saturday and the looming dreadlines of Sunday would surely be detectable with a strong enough litmus test. Everyone can empathize with the schizophrenic nature of Wednesday, its morning feeling like an eternal temporal limbo, its afternoon rolling quickly towards Saturday. If time is the fourth dimension, then its feeling must be the fifth.

The feeling dimension is not limited merely to days, it appears in periods that are both shortened and lengthened. Perhaps the most current representation of this phenomenon of time-feeling continuum is the sensations of the passing of the months. The description of months passing is not altogether accurate, as not all months "pass" in the same way. The endless months of summer seem to pass all too quickly, the lengthened days bringing feelings of shortened time. Conversely, the winter months pass slowly, the shortened days bringing longings for the hazy days of August. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, in this case, our black sheep is October.

Advanced physicists have hypothesized for years about gaps in space and time. A further extension of this field of study brings to light a theory to which everyone can relate: holes in the time-feeling continuum. Case in point: October. Rather than the concrete emotions associated with other months, October exists as a contrarian force. Electrons have positrons. Matter has antimatter. Feelings have antifeelings. The eleven months have October. The elusive October bears such little feeling of its own that unless expertly scrutinized on a calendar, its very existence is often completely overlooked. October begins with the mourning of September, and finishes with the shock of November, with a yet unknown quantity existing between. Its as if November 1st awakens us from a month of slumber: the leaves are falling, the morning is chilled, a calendar is torn, and Christmas is close.

In hindsight though, October has a lot to offer. In the context of its timely siblings, its feeling is lost. However, when isolated under a microscope, it is teeming with feeling. Its days can feel pleasant, without the congestion of August humidity. Its nights can feel cool and peaceful, without the searing chill of December. Its events are associated with the feelings of new birth and approaching closure. Skates are sharpened by a biting north wind, bringing with them dreams about what may yet be. The World Series brings a sudden urgency to the seemingly inconsequential summer engagements, as dreams are held onto like a tree's grip on its final few leaves. Given the proper amount of consideration, October surely has its share of proponents. A random sampling of people on the street would surely choose to replace the cold winter days with October's warmth, or trade the suffocating July nights for October's chill. The problem then becomes not a lack of feeling, but rather a lack of reflection on the month's merits.

Whatever force it is that causes our collective loss of time, we may never know. Perhaps October's sand is just ever so much finer, so that it slips through the hourglass at an imperceptibly increased rate. What matters though is that our attention is diverted from our primary three dimensions, for all they can measure are the places and things that cause our ever increasing hurry. It is the newly captured continuum that matters most. October may be gone again, leaving nothing more than fallen leaves and the vapors of frosty breath, but I know it will come again. And when it does, I will be ready: armed with the knowledge that when all of the window dressing is stripped away, October possesses the only two constants of our own existence: feeling and time.

Dead and Screaming

2005-10-29T16:19:00.000-07:00

Someone sent me an album once... it was titled "Dead and Dreaming; a Tribute to the Counting Crows". I never listened to it. Through the magic of iTunes shuffle, the same magic that brought me such gems as last week's "Losing Haringey" by The Clientele, some of the songs on this compilation made themselves known to me over the last several days. Now, sometimes a song makes itself known to you by whispering sweetly in your ear, some songs plant a seed in your mind and let it slowly grow and finally blossom into your consciousness. And yet other songs, typically the so-called popular ones, plant a rusty, overused hook into your brain and repeat themselves over and over and over and over. Each of these strategies seem to work, as each type of song seems to end up in my head.

And yet, the songs on this compilation used none of these strategies. They starting to slowly nag me, to beg for sympathy. Look at us, they said...we're pathetic... please like us. I ignored them. The strategy changed midsong: the vocals starting to whine. Why don't you like me? it pleaded... are we not as good as your other songs?? . I cringed, gritted my teeth and continued to ignore.... hoping for a change of pace. After all, they were cover songs... I had heard (and loved) their original siblings... something had to click. Then it happened: the strategy shifted again. From plead to whine to scream. The same simple chords were repeated as the narrative continued, but the song suddenly threw a tantrum. So, you don't like me? I should've known... you're just like everyone else... no one likes me! So, this is what they call emo.

This will undoubtedly bother some people, after all, there are tons of people who love this music. Or maybe they love to hate it. Or maybe they just love feeling hated, shunned, and ignored... and need a soundtrack for their pain. But there are some things that should be examined in this whole emo thing; some questions that I need answered before I can ever play these songs again.

We might as well start with the most pressing question first: do all of these bands share the same lead singer? Is this some massive collaboration, like how in 2003/2004 every hot single had Pharrell Williams in the background playing marimbas and shouting "Ho!" during the chorus? If so, who is this mysterious emo king? Is he the son of the guy that announces ads on the radio and the woman on 1-800 navigation menus, continuing a family tradition of vocal ubiquity? This is the only plausible reasoning behind the undeniable fact that the(se) singer(s) all have identical voices. I mean, is there something in the water in southern California that causes skinny boys to whine like cats fighting and develop a schizophrenic paranoia that nobody likes them? If so, the affliction appears to be more widespread than the similar vocal disease that caused all the alt-rock bands in the early 2000's to sound like Eddie Vedder's overpronounced anguished vocals (see Creed's pronounciation of the word open: oh-paaahhhhhn). Either way, the solution will eventually make itself known. If there is indeed (as I suspect) only one vocalist for all the bands, the emo king will eventually die, and the genre will cease to exist. Otherwise, if the tainted water situation is true, in 50 years, senior's homes will be populated with extremely whiny men, who will do nothing more than sit around and lament arguments on the swingsets and playgrounds of their youth.

My second question, simply put... what are you screaming about? If you want your anguish to be heard, wouldn't it be easier to just kick and scream in the middle of a busy city square? If nobody likes you, why do you think that screaming into a microphone will change that? I mean, a second ago, I didn't know you existed (hmm..I guess thats more ammunition for future songs), but now you're screaming at me - how does that make friends? If you're still so angry, maybe the music business just isn't for you! What about other emotions. Where are the happy songs, the surprised! songs, the loooooove songs? Why isn't the genre called "tantrum with a few chords"? I hope that someday, one of these "emo" bands nails the full spectrum of human emotion, an opus of experience and observation; equal happy and sad, anger and beauty... maybe even mix in some fully changed male vocals. Until then, even the songs about unrequited love and social issues (common staples in any genre of music) are reduced to foot stomping odes about fights at the swingset.

Finally, these band names are hilarious! I remember back about 10 years ago, there was a website that would generate a "wu tang" name based on your own... (Thanks Google... mine was 8-legged-DJ. Has someone made one yet that will generate emo band names? To do it, its quite easy. You just combine a month of the year with an adjective. lets try it: "Early October" "Screaming November"... orrrrr... you could go with the emotive choice: "the misunderstood".... "me against you"... "nobody likes me". I made those ones up, so feel free to use them. My favourite one, that seemed to sum it all up was : "and then i turned seven". Its a great name! But, it doesn't provide much room to grow! What if someday, you grow tired of singing songs about when someone stole your milk at lunchtime or how you always seemed to get cut from the team... I just don't see it as a headlining act!

In the midst of my musing about the genre, I have fully recognized that this is an extremely popular genre of music. Some of the bands that I enjoy listening to have ridiculous names; some of them get upset sometimes; some of them are even skinny and wear black hoodies and converse from time to time. Maybe these emo kids (or the emo king, if he truly does exist) have, through an extensive selection process taken all of the popular attributes from other genres and melded together into a stomping, crying, tantrum of a super genre. If so... I'm getting on board. From here on out, I'm keeping track: if you step in front of me in line.... if you blink the wrong way when you look at me... ignore a text message or forget to return a call.... you will be my anguish; you will be my album.

I've already come up with a band name:
"Thats it, I'm taking my sandbox and going home" - you can bet I'll be kicking and screaming all the way to the bank.

Ninja, where you been?

2005-10-22T10:47:00.001-07:00

yo, so i'm back. where've i been? who knows. after the race, time just passed... but we're gonna get things rolling again. How about we kick things off with a rebirth version of Sounds. This might be long; its been awhile. But it will be worth it, there are some discs here that you've just gotta go out and buy (or otherwise).

Stephen Fretwell - Magpie. If you like Damien Rice or David Gray or music in general, do not hesitate... get this album. The standout track is apparently "Emily"... but this is an album. spin from start to finish > repeat.

Wolf Parade - Apologies to the Queen Mary. Again, just get it. Its Montreal ok? If you've gotta sample one song, 'Grounds For Divorce' or 'I'll Believe Anything' will win you over, and then you will want it all.

The London Apartments - Romanticism Aside. Ok, so, its not really London... its Windsor Ontario. And it sounds like it was recorded in a bedroom, while hiding under a bed. But, if you stop, and listen, you'll hear that an entire sonic world lives under that bed... sort of like Sigur Ros, but less soaring and more fragile vocals. I love this album.

Bright Eyes - Digital Ash in a Digital Urn. A few years ago, I listened to Fevers&Mirrors, and found it sort of weird. Everyone was saying how prolific Conor was, but I just wasn't feelin' it. So when the twin albums "Digital..." and "I'm Wide Awake Its Morning" came out this year, i resisted the urge to try them out. Screamer sent me "Digital..." and I am hooked. This is The Cure for the new millenium. "Easy/Lucky/Free" reminds of a re-worked "Jupiter Crash"... "Arc of Time (Time Code)" reminiscent of "Caterpillar'. very very good disc.

Mama Cass Elliot - Make Your Own Kind Of Music. Yeah, i am a LOST kid. The hook hooked me. I already let Fresno know about this, but, this song is the next big hip hop sample. Tear it down, mash it up. I won't even ask for royalties. Just remember, when you hear the next bangin Kanye or Jay Z track, and it drops Mama... you heard it from a ninja.

Dre - Another Casualty. Had to get back into the Dre vibe. After the songwriter kick a few weeks back, this is a natural progression. Another record you should try to get from cdbaby.

The Clientele - Strange Geometry. This is worth a repost... way back, i jumped the gun and raved about "Since K Got Over Me". As Pitchfork pronounced, K must've been some chick, as she got two songs on the record. But the true gem made itself known to me, via the iPod's genius late night shuffling. "Losing Haringey" is the hidden masterpiece on here. brilliant.

off to bury my head in javascript. i broke something, and must fix it. before the folk singer kills.

look deep into the soul of a ninja. you think you see nothing. you're looking at the universe.

-ninjasoul

Survival

2005-10-06T20:23:00.000-07:00

Settin' Myself On Fire

2005-09-30T20:19:00.000-07:00

Working on getting the perfect playlist dialed in iTunes...entitled "Marathon Man" of course. Cast your vote in the comments section if you want your song to get played :)

A full debrief will follow, after the main event. Clyde, Cali Agents, Screamer etc... i'll text you.

... all those nights on the open roads.... all those bugs in my open mouth... the kindling has all been used... we're down to the heavy stuff. We've got nothing left to burn... its time to set myself on fire.

Bug in Mouth Disease

2005-09-20T14:55:00.000-07:00

Pheidippides proved that it could be done. Following the epic battle of Marathon, the Greek hero ran to Athens to announce the victory of the Athenians over the Persians. 42km, 26 miles; of running. To end the famous tale, Pheidippides died upon arrival. Although the greek legend transpired nearly 2500 years ago, the distance is still routinely traversed on foot. Although running has now become the battle itself, one aspect of the bittersweet event still rings true with runners everywhere. Despite endless hours of training, seemingly space age advances in technology, and scientific research, I routinely experience near death experiences out on the roads. Cause of death would not be reported as vehicular or accidental.... not suicide... not homicide.... it would be an incurable case of bug in mouth disease; the rarely reported death by insect: insecticide.

The next section should be read with caution, as many runners will cringe and cower from the graphic descriptions about to be presented. Insecticide begins with impairment of vision: the view ahead, of otherwise sunny space, becomes murky and forboding; like a dirty thumbprint on a contact lense. As you approach, you notice others emerging from the smog, waving yet unseen objects away from their face. When the light hits the smog in just the right way, you notice the definition among its objects; a cloud of insects swarming like a plague of locusts, rising like a geyser into the heavens.

Although the objects are now defined, there is little escape, for it is already too late. Because of an innate sense of the perfect annoyance coordinates, the insects have staked a claim to your destined sidewalk square, and there is nothing you can do about it. You can swerve, sway or duck, but there is no avoiding; momentum's a bitch.

Like the first raindrop splashing on a windshield, the first insect splattering on your forehead primes you for the imminent assault. The body's response is a clear case of evolutionary adaptation, every species has one for their most feared environmental afflictions. Like a camel battening down the hatches during a sandstorm, the human runner purses the lips and squints the eyes in the face of a bugstorm. Depending on the severity of the attack, a scientific property known as swarm-depth, the body can switch into a fight or flight state of survival: holding the breath and running at breakneck speeds in order to escape the cloud.

Although, I loathe these insects, and their affinity for my lungs, I cannot help but respect them for their persistence and courage. Thats right, I said courage. From the research I have conducted, it has become apparent that these flies live for a very short period of time, and spend the majority of their lives reproducing; an ethos of peace and love. To them, my heavy footsteps and unwavering trajectory must be an equally forboding image, as I approach their heavenward spiral of copulation. Now I ask you, if a giant of Godzilla-like proportion was bearing down on your peaceful society, would you be throw your body into the face of the beast? It is as if each fly that I remove from my hair, nostrils and eyelids following a run is like a fallen soldier in an ongoing war to preserve the ways of their society. How can one not be in awe of their skills in combat; the ability to single-handedly take down a giant foe unseen since David felled mighty Goliath with nothing more than a slingshot.

Legends are rife with poisonings and deception, destiny and divine intervention but, in retrospect, Pheidippides was most definitely struck down by this same affliction. An Athenian warrior, unscathed in battle, and able to traverse the distance to Athens, suddenly falls dead. Like another famous Greek, poor Pheidippides possessed a vulnerability, foretelling of his unfortunate demise. The lesson to be learned: don't be too quick to proclaim your victory to others, opening your mouth too wide can trigger every runner's achilles heel; don't let a fly through the lung be the cloud on an otherwise sunny day.

iToons

2005-09-20T12:49:00.000-07:00

The past week has been a whirlwind combination of new tracks, rediscovered old tracks and some frighteningly regular soundwaves around here (damn you, Kanye!). There have been a lot of late nights lately, something that is not uncommon in a Ninja Base. After all, ninjas generally come out at night, because thats when the crime fighting action is at its best... and if ninjas were spied emerging from an underwater base during daylight hours, said underwater base could hardly be called "secret" anymore, now could it.

Late nights filled with crime fighting and source code have turned the soundscape into one of alt-country and songwriters:

Ryan Adams & The Cardinals - Cold Roses and Jacksonville City Nights... the first two albums of Ryan's 2005 trilogy...

Aaron Booth - Transparent. Huge thanks to fellow ninja, DT, for this one. Sparse and acoustic, reminiscent of Ben Gibbard, without the whine and Ben Folds, without the tendency to write bad songs.

Chad VanGaalen - Infiniheart. Again, DT came through on this one. Imagine if in some cosmic shift, Ryan Adams ended up fronting The Flaming Lips (Wayne Coyne could wear one of the bunny suits)... you'd end up with something resembling these songs... Blood Machine especially.

Gillian Welch - Revival. More country folk music.... wow.. are the ninjas going soft? Public Enemy to Gillian Welch? Nah... Billie the Kid was just as bad-ass as Chuck D...

Annie - DJ Kicks. No songwriters here. The same electro-pop princess who Pitchfork'd last year's #1 song (heartbeat) and has become a staple on my iPod Shuffle adds to the DJ Kicks series (K&D and Thievery Corporation)... this playlist is crazy awesome. Fav track: Death From Above 1979 - Black History Month (Alan Braxe & Fred Falke Remix).

There is no joy in Mudville...

2005-09-12T21:12:00.000-07:00

I can remember the night that Mario Lemieux came back from his retirement and Michael Jordan's famous "I'm Back" press release... initial excitement and disbelief, followed by hesitation and nervousness about icons not living up to their past selves. But the nervousness would subside, as soon as the first game rolled around; seeing that familiar face in a familiar place brought back all of the initial enthusiasm. I have the same feelings about Lance Armstrong, who has only been gone for a little over a month now... I can't wait to see him ride again (yeah, its gonna happen).

So, tonight's the night. But it doesn't feel the same. A supposed icon of our time, has stepped to the plate, and returned to the stage from which he should captivate the hearts and minds of fans everywhere. But does anyone care? The feeling is not one of elation or intrigue, rather it resembles the courtesy smile that you might give an old friend at a party; an old friend whom you hoped you would never see again. A friend who did something that you can never forgive, but you only found out while they were away. A friend who doesn't quite understand why no one is happy to see them. Oh. Its you. Great.

I could be listening to the Giants game tonight; the magic of streaming audio could bring a digital San Francisco night into my bedroom. But I'm not. I could care less that if the NL West pennant race was re-enacted with horses, they'd all be sent to the glue factory (a sub .500 team will likely make the playoffs); there is always a certain feeling with games on the west coast, ( while your neighbour's are sleeping, they are still playing baseball.. somewhere) that allows me to enjoy any matchup as I fall asleep. You'd think that the return of perhaps the greatest hitter of all time would make a dent in my universe... but your thoughts would be wrong. The hard truth, is that I just have no desire to watch an admitted cheater break a record that doesn't deserve to be broken. And, in this respect, I don't think I'm alone.

Maybe the feeling isn't the same because Barry never retired... never officially gone. Where was he anyways? Hiding? I read scientific journals regularly, in search of the link between fear of steroid suspensions and swollen knees in left fielders. But I find no evidence. Funny thing, how evidence can seem so obvious, yet be so elusive when tests are administered. Maybe the feeling isn't the same because Barry should have retired...should have just disappeared. Should have recognized that the scam was over, and the secret was out, and called it a career. Instead, the career will probably live on as a technicality, sealed testimony protecting his admission of guilt as if it never happened.

The perfect comeback wouldn't be complete without a heroic introduction. And so, Barry stepped up to the plate, looking just as fans would remember him (with his protective football equipment strapped to his elbow) and in his first at-bat, launched a ball deep into the San Francisco night. Ironically, that first hit was not a home run. Instead, the story twisted...the first hit was a a ground rule double; without a doubt the most unnatural statistic in the sport. Awarded second base..on a technicality. My perfect version of the comeback, of course, would have been characterized by strikeouts and slumps uncurable by the greatest of biblical miracles. However, the lack of enthusiasm and the wealth of skepticism makes my perfect comeback complete... there is no joy in Mudville, for in the hearts of fans, Mighty Barry has already struck out.

Runblog part deux

2005-09-11T19:07:00.000-07:00

Had the race today. Ran without a watch, didn't want to race against myself. Went well, finished in 19:16. Considerably better than day 1 in March; and they actually lengthened the course this time! Added the equivalent of a couple blocks... so, all in all, a good morning.

Grabbed a new David Gray live at KCRW and the new J5 album. Oink. I'm out