blog (March, 2004)
19 days out; refrain
Beginning tomorrow-April 1, I'm cutting out coffee and alcohol for a few weeks. Lent? No, the Beantown Marathon.
The race is in nineteen days, and with my last long run finished, as of yesterday, the proverbial money's in the bank.
Well, the little that I've invested, that is. Come raceday, I'll have been training for four months, compared to the two I put in for Dublin, the only other m'thon I've run. And I'll have more long (>20 mile) runs under my belt this time. But I haven't been nearly as dedicated as I'd hoped, and my overall weekly mileage has been weakly, overall.
Those are the breaks, the brakes, the breakers. Berserker shirkers, soda jerkers and basement lurkers.
We'll see how it goes. I've gotta cool down the calorie consumption now that I'm getting into taper mode and'll be running less. I just put down a 1200 calorie tub of peanutbutterchocolate soya ice cream this morning, and it was wonderful. Last cup of coffee now. Tomorrow will be headaching and tea'tea'tea.
emotional disrobing and blather
Among the beliefs that he and I shared was a conviction that making public the intimately personal is a revolutionary act in an atomized society where many feel compelled to play so close to the chest that they can't read their own cards. Being emotionally naked before strangers extends to them a permission for self-revelation they badly need if they are to loosen the shackles of their own quiet desperations. It is a blow against the pursuit of loneliness.
John Perry Barlow, Hecklers at a Funeral blog entry
This was nice to read tonight, in discovering Barlow's weblog. I try to act accordingly. Being "emotionally naked," though, also opens you up to more criticism from without and within.
I'ven't much to say here, though. Too much emphasis on cohesion, regret of past remarks... I talk too much, anyway. Everyone's talking, talking, talking and there is so much great stuff to listen to, but I hesitate to add mostly uselessness to the blab.
dorris and her oats
The weight has lifted itself off nicely, almost completely. And suddenly the sun is out again and the grass muddy green.
A few of my plants need repotting, but not all of them. A bit more-attentive care and feeding and their leaves lift with renewed life.
grindstone
Something in the hallway near my doorway smells like body odour. Odour du jour. I grabbed an incense stick outta the authentic tibetan (nirvana-in-a)box and, in my haste, broke it in half. A cursory search between the ruffles of my floor blankets and rugs turned up nothing, and I had to get outside and run, so clip, torch and in went the surviving smellguy and out the door, I.
When I first looked at my watch, I'd been running 41 minutes, 24 seconds. Which meant it was already 9 something o'clock. Having planned to be back by ten past nine, and being still several miles away from home, I stretched out my stride and charged uphill to try and get back in time to get to the Cinematheque for Baraka at 9:30.
I ricocheted in and out of the shower, toweling off the soap, but finally gave up hope at sight of the clock.
So, I'm still at home. And still trying to breathe and cool off my hurried agitation.
Well, I renewed my search for the incense stick. It's somewhere on the ground, I swear. Out of the box I thunk, and, crouching nose to the ground, ass to the sky tried smelling for it around my dresser feet.
At first I used deep breaths, but learned quickly that the long exhales required I pause my search. Dogs know what they're doing. They've got the sniffing bit down pat. I tried it in!ex^haling as quick as I could, but still got held up having to expire a whole lot of air after a bit. Anyway, if you've never closed your eyes and sniffed vigorously for something, burrowing under blankets and around furniture... well, you've just not been that close to feeling like a doganimal.
I used to talk to a dog when I was a little'un. Not just talk, but mimic, and pet and try my utmost to see if we could break down the barrier of communication. She would just look at me and lick my face. I love when girls do that.
Last weekend some chick asked if I had ADD. Juicay said I was just "very curious."
I still haven't found the stupid stick. I am incensed.
Let us speak...
Let us speak, though we show all our faults and weaknesses, - for it is a sign of strength to be weak, to know it, and out with it - not in a set way and ostentatiously, though, but incidentally and without premeditation.
-- Herman Melville
a hobby a day
A hobby a day keeps the doldrums away.
-- Phyllis Mcginley
link droppings
I can't translate thoughts right now. Here're a few reads that've interested me lately.
Bios & Logos (Mark Pesce)
For all of evolutionary time, information had to travel the slow route through biology - through the bios - before it would be coded into our DNA. Now we had this additional process - which we call the logos, the Word - which was a completely new thing, and not something that the bios had any time prepare for.
...
Things may look as though they're going fast now, but this is nothing - literally, absolutely nothing - next to what's about to happen, because (and now we have precedent for it) we're about to see a technological acceleration on a similar order to the acceleration we saw when the logos separated from the bios. In this case, techne, our ability, is about to be freed from logos, our ability to describe it.
-- Mark Pesce, Bios & Logos
Sadhus, Holy Men of India (Dolf Hartsuiker)
The Evolution of Societal Intelligence... (Tom Atlee)
Wikipedia : Caloric restriction
To lengthen thy life, lessen thy meals.
-- Benjamin Franklin
The Masters of Memory Lane (Michelle Delio)
To do that, Hagwood, who gives seminars on how to improve memory skills, advises people to use their non-dominant hand in daily chores, do crosswords and puzzles, play chess, take a different route on your daily commute, learn to tango, play an instrument and speak another language.
-- Michelle Delio, The Masters of Memory Lane