Day 144: Ahui Ho Santa Monica!

Today is my last day at work. To honor that, I decided to do one last run harder and faster than I should. Which I did. I ran my 9.55 mile run to the end of the bike path in 66:06, or at roughtly a 6:56 mile pace. Not bad, but not great, considering I ran the first 3 miles at a 6:30 mile pace. I bonked to high heaven, but it was worth it.

I have come to this office practically every day for the last 6 years, 1 week, and 1 day. I've gone to the CO-Opportunity, the local organic food store for lunch longer than most people would ever dare to try. It is only in the last 2 years that I ordered something other than bread and cheese. In my first couple years here I was somewhat obsessive. E.g, I spent an entire month listening to the Bob Dylan song, "Shelter from the Storm." I OCD out on Bob Dylan often, though. From the same album, Blood On the Tracks, I've listened to Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts for weeks on end. I one time drove from San Francisco to Los Angeles listening only to that one song. There is so much to be learned from it! It is, hands down, the best "story in a song" song ever. I challenge anyone to pick their favorite and battle me.

Today's a big day for me. I had my Starbucks coffee and I'm finishing my chai right now. I will go to Bobby's coffeeshop down the road and order a red eye, for old time's sake. This is what happens when I get sentimental. I load up on caffeine.

Here's to the last day of the old and the start of something new!

Day 141: An LA type of morning

This morning I feel so LA. I wore sunglasses on my drive to work at 530 because it was sunny out. I did my 9.5 mile run along the beach. It is already 75 degrees out at 8 AM. When I returned from my run, I showered and then immediately tended to my hair. I went to the local organic store still wearing sunglasses and bought 4 ounces of wheat grass, for its cleansing ability. I also ordered a Pirate's chai, a special all organic chai drink made by the Coop. Then I ordered the hot plate special which was eggs, potatoes and black beans. All items were completely organic according to whatever laws passed by the FDA that ignore the fact that anything with carbon is considered organic, by definition. The eggs and milk from my chai came from a hormone-gmo free range chicken and cow, respectively. In total, my meal cost me 16 dollars. I remarked to no one in particular since it is taboo to talk to strangers that the meal tasted like, well, food. I am currently in shorts, a v-neck t shirt and rainbow sandals, which is acceptable business casual.

I am seriously going to miss this place.

Day 139: define nerd, please

When did the definition of nerd shift? I swear it used to mean someone who was so intelligent that they were awkward socially. They dressed poorly because other things drove them. They were savants, right??? I thought.

Now a nerd is a comic book collector, a slob living in his or hers (haha, just kidding, its never a girl) parent's basement, aka, a fanboy, who thinks it's important to understand, or at least debate, the validity of the new Transformers movie or . Hellboy? Really? I've opened a comic a handful of times in my life and could never fathom ever actually reading one. I've tried. I really have. But i couldn't get past the pictures.

We, as a nation, need to tell the fanboys that it is high time that they are ashamed of themselves. I have waited 20 years for many things. But it was never to make a movie out of a comic I read as a child (AND STILL READ?!). I sat with disgust in a free viewing of the new Tranformers. I couldn't believe that 1., that movie made any money, and 2., people clapped, yes CLAPPED, when Optimus Prime identified himself.

I'm pretty sure most "nerds" have better things to do than talk about Iron Man. There is still cancer to cure and peace to spread.

I'm not against this procomic book movie world we live in, but it is out of hand. Go back to your room, play with legos, and sulk that it was me who went to the Winter formal in 7th grade instead of you. Then imagine you are spiderman. Yeah. Then you'd get to go to prom. Yeah.

ARGH. When did I get passed over as the target demographic in this country???

Just a few more days!

I'll be moving by next Friday! I'm excited, but starting to get sentimental about leaving Los Angeles. I'm trying to be more conscious of my actions as I do them. I am constantly reminding myself that "this will be the last time I do X." The other night I drove home along Olympic Blvd from the Westside to downtown. "This will be the last time I take the long way home." I'm going to Cafe 50's tomorrow morning -- Last time. I'm seeing the LA friends one last time, having my goodbye dinners and taking off. As much as I'm ready to go start a new chapter in life, I'm going to miss my life here.

Plus, I just found out, we have the smallest "eco footprint" in the continental US!!!

Can someone teach me to C walk?!

Day 130: Karma

Good morning.

I want to take a quick moment to discuss something near and dear to my heart. Karma. Or, the west co-opting the term to fit some definition that doesn't make a lick of sense. It's akin to the McDonald company making Ronald McDonald look like Jesus. Its slander of the worst kind and yet its upheld as a term of virtue. This is a very common theme in America, but I don't want to talk about that issue. I'd rather stick to karma.

At my high school in Hawaii there were a number of students who had children at a young age. It surprised me that these women were not outcast from society and their peers. In a good way, I mean. The women were embraced and they would come to school pregnant until the week of giving birth, they would leave while giving birth, then come back shortly thereafter. Often the women would bring their baby to school during the school day. Growing up in a more traditional atmosphere, this was quite enlightening for me. The upside to this lifestyle was the encouragement and support given by their friends. The downside was that it made it acceptable and something that many young women were doing. Perhaps one of the most horrific things I ever saw was a young pregnant teen in a gang fight on the ground holding her belly as another girl kicked her repeatedly in the stomach. Not only were we not aware of the long term consequences of our personal decisions, we also didn't think too hard about the effects of our actions on others.

On a lighter note, one Army BRAT who did drugs to fit in, got pregnant during one of her acid binges. She didn't realize she was pregnant for some time and continued to do drugs until she took the time to take a pregnancy test. By that time, the damage had already been done and her child ended up a bit loopy. I remember talking to one of her friends the first time she brought the baby to school.

His eyes looked like the novelty eyes on puff stickers of sesame street characters, particularly cookie monster. He had no control over his eyes and the normally just sat at the bottom of his sockets until he was bounced or lovingly shaken. Then, those baby blues rolled around his head using the basic rules of physics, specifically centrifugal force. You jump up with him too quick and the eyes would bounce straight up. Swing him around and they rolled around at the edges.

Now who's fault is that?! Who had bad karma there? The child? The mother? Both? I don't think we could be able to judge in this situation. The term karma is defined on dictionary.com as an "action, seen as bringing upon oneself inevitable results, good or bad, either in this life or in a reincarnation." Western civilizaation added the "in this life." Before we got ahold of it, it was a way of life and understanding one's actions. It wasn't, "I saved a baby, so I won the lottery." Or, "I don't litter, therefore I'll get a job." 1. We are a Christian based society, therefore reincarnation can not apply. Therefore, no karma. 2. We can not be our own judge and jury. Ascribing any positive or negative event to karma like so many do, we are trying to objectify something that is much greater than we understand.

When Jason Lee sits there telling his life is based on karma or whatever the heck the television show is about, he is lying.

One of the funniest things I've ever seen in LA was at the third time I saw Grandaddy at the Henry Fonda Theater a couple years ago. Jason Lee was there, pre-scientology, post-mall rats. I saw him at a couple shows around town, but this was the first time I ever him try to get backstage based on his own recognizance (recognition?). Denied! He wasn't let backstage and the bouncer flat out denied him. It was very satisfying to watch him slink up the bouncer to get away from the common folk, acknowledge to the guard that he imagined he was better than most, and then have the bouncer shut him down. He mosied back into the crowd and a couple of us jeered him. That was instant karma. My own personal karma was getting hit by a bus an hour later, but thats another blog altogether.

Notes on a half marathon

Please click on the title of this link to see how my run went, with a description of my right foot. My dominant foot is my right, but its smaller than my left. That means its always fucked up after a good run. Its sliding around in my shoe. I don't ever complain about it, but my feet are some of the nastiest you have ever seen. Which is why I keep them covered and hidden away. Here is a caption for the picture: Big toe = Hang Nail, 2nd from right = blister on left side, 4th from right = drained blood blister.

Like my foot, the run was incredible. There were bumps along the way. The lead became wiser, stronger, and ultimately, ended up victorious. I ran the exact same half marathon as I did a year ago. One second faster, actually. 1:40 and 0 seconds was the official time at a 7:42 mile pace. To my credit, it was about 10 degrees hotter this year, so I probably would have done significantly better had the temperatures faired about the same as last time. One second. It is still a PR, no?

The race itself was extremely grueling. It was essentially 3.5 miles downhill, 6.5 miles uphill, then 3 or so miles of up and down. I charged the hills incorrectly so that by the time I reached the peak, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I was questioning whether or not I should have run the race and if physically I would be able to finish. I'm sweating right now just thinking about it. (Side note, I was also sweating profusely as I finished the last chapter of "Once a Runner" from anticipation and being in that last half mile.) The end of the race crept up on me last time and it did it again this time. I was dogging it the last couple miles when suddenly its all "downhill finish, now sprint!"

There is something so existential about running a race. It's pain that that will not end until you cross the finish line. Imagine the gun going off as birth and the finish line death. At the same time, the act of running the race is futile to begin with. Its a hell of sorts that begins and ends, but is completely pointless as it is going on. I suppose everything is existential in some regards, if you are depressed enough. Thats what was going on in my head as I was dry heaving in mile 7.

Also: I won my age division. And came in 22nd over all.

The run was yesterday and I tagged out for the rest of the day after. Today I ran another 2 miles in the morning to keep the streak alive. Some say race day is the hardest, but I'm a believer that it is the following day that is more difficult.

I was kind of upset this morning on my run. Irritated, actually. I sold my car this weekend and bought a couch at Macy's for our new apartment. I'd show it to you, but I would prefer that you would just come up and see it for yourself when you visit. Moving takes a lot of effort. And i was overwhelmed with all of the tasks needing to be done. Since Traci was wonderful this weekend, I really didn't feel like being upset until I was faced with the prospect of going back to work. Therefore I got irritated during my run. Before I finish this rant, though, I want to point out that I finally have a bit of savings in the bank and I'm looking forward to going back to school. Its just the moving part that is difficult. Whoever said that money can't buy happiness may be right, but it sure feels less fragile.

In just a few moments of my run my thoughts turned to those poor souls who work at running shoes stores. I have a hard time with them. You see, I used to venerate runners and running. I still do. I still think it is one of the best self imposed questions a man or woman can ask themselves. What does it mean to run? Because of the philosophical aspect of running that is one of my main draws to the sport, I used to hold good runners as priests and priestesses of a sort. The truth is though, they are athletes. Like most athletes, they are dim witted. Or more aptly, not as intelligent and thoughtful as myself.

Traci and I went to a running shoes store near our house this past weekend and a 20 year old assisted us. I just wanted to talk shop about shoes and gear, but he made it very clear during our conversation that I should respect him for his knowledge. Thats what upset me. I weigh 172 pounds. I don't look like a runner but I can run faster than just about anyone I've ever met. Yet, everytime I go into a running store I get treated like an amateur. A beginner. On my runs, even the short ones, there is a moment where I imagine myself as a professional runner and what I needed to do earlier in life to attain that goal today. Now its impossible. But then, had I not started smoking for a spell, had I not begun a 6 year love affair with alcohol, had I red shirted the cross country team in college, then I might be much closer to that dream today then as it stands now. I probably wouldn't have been the best. But I would have been better than I am. I have the honesty to say that out loud. I admit that it hurts to look in the mirror sometimes when I realize these things. That doesn't give some kid going to a community college working part time who will fair better but never make it to the top of the ladder to treat me like an amateur. It seems to defeat the whole purpose of what I set out to do. I don't know what that is, but it sure isn't that.

Which is why I'm glad for the internet. I can write on blogs about my running abilities and my numbers make me look rail thin. I can pass those thin guys during races and they can be shocked. Then I can go home and order everything I need online instead of at a running store.

An FYI moment for all of you out there. Remember what Ben Franklin taught us: You bleed a cold, not a blister.
Good night!

Day ?!: Thoughts on DC

I was at EPA headquarters in Washington DC this week. I continued my daily running that included a roughly 5 mile run in 80 degree weather with 99% humidity. Everyone was looking at me as I ran, which I had imagined was because of my form. When I returned to my hotel I realized it was because there was no use for my shirt. It was completely see through from all of the sweat. Thats how I get down.

I had a moment during the run, though. Every couple years I complete a run that ends up blowing my mind. This was one of them. The last time i had a run like this was in philadelphia in September 2006. I was running along the river that cuts through philly, past the steps Rocky Balboa ran up, watching the college teams practice crew on this river. The thames? The charles? Idk. The sun was sweating and the sky turned from blue to pink during the run. The air was moist but cool. Its part adrenaline, part time change, part the welling of emotion, part me. But I realized I was alive during the run. It was the first time in years that I didn't feel anything except joy. I mean, I had my ups and downs, but it was the first time that I felt like my life wasn't a succession of fixing screws ups or dealing with the past. It was about moving forward.

I started in Arlington, past the national cemetery, across the memorial bridge, past the Lincoln memorial, through a park, past some bronze statues, around the Washington monument, to the white house, then back to the hotel along Constitution ave. I passed the federal reserve and the department of the interior. During the run, sometime around the White house, I had my moment and realized I was exactly where I was supposed to be. The city was running the country and I was a cog in the wheel participating in making this one of the greatest countries on earth. There was so much history and I am proud to serve our country in my own personal way; through protecting the water supply rather than killing for oil. This work is just as noble, although mostly overlooked.

Then I ran home and almost passed out from the heat. But it was worth it.