The Oakland Running Festival Kicks Ass
I ran the Oakland Half Marathon today with two friends.
It was the farthest I'd ran since CIM 2011.
I expected a sopping wet, raining, run-walk slodge of a race from an event that is only on its 3rd anniversary.
Instead, I was rewarded with some of the best crowd support, community pride, local home-made entertainment, and just general awesomeness I've ever experienced at a race (and this one is *tiny* compared to some of the large races I've run).
The weather's cooperation (overcast but dry) coupled with the environment encouraged M and W and I to push ourselves to a much faster finishing time than we had planned with smiles on our faces. If that isn't the sign of a good race, I don't know what is.
Today's half marks 26 half marathons completed for me. Less than the numbers reported by hard core runners, but, enough that I have a clue about what your average runner likes and enjoys.
My prediction? If they stay on track (and perhaps manage to mediate the elevation in the full marathon), the Oakland running festival will build an awesome community experience that rivals some of the best and biggest local pride running events in the country.
I'm already blocking off next year on the calendar. I can't wait!
March 24, 2012
California Nachos
At 5 PM last night, my phone rang. A good friend from NYC and his partner were in town and had time to go to dinner near SFO if we could fit it in.
I offered two options:
1. El Super Burrito -- a classic California taqueria that's been around since 1977, complete with orange booths, Mexican tile tables, pinatas hanging from the roof and a swiss-style roof.
2. Shanghai Dumpling Shop -- Xiao Long Bao. Need I say more?
Good California-style Mexican is hard to come by in NYC for some completely inexplicable reason. So, they opted for El Super Burrito.
Mmmm.... I love me some Mexican food. In a show of strength and discipline by me, this would be only my 3rd Mexican meal of the week.
While standing in line, we saw that they had a special titled, "California Nachos."
I *love* nachos. I order nachos for lunch from my favorite taqueria entirely too often. My version of nachos has no sour cream, no meat, just cheese, black beans, salsa, guac, and lots of jalapenos and salsa. I think this sounds fairly Californian -- vegetarian, with an avocado component, that's what Californian food, is, right?
After a brief discussion, we decided we needed to order California Nachos for the table. I tossed out the idea of avoiding the refried beans but was shot down. I didn't even bring up the sour cream or the carne asada.
We ordered and sat, enjoying the time to catch up.
When our order was ready, I laughed hysterically.
At El Super Burrito, California Nachos means carne asada, cheese, sour cream, refried beans, salsa, and guac, all over... wait for it... some of the greasiest french fries I've ever seen instead of chips.
It was delicious.
And painful about 15 minutes later.
I think I may have cured my insatiable need for nachos.
At 5 PM last night, my phone rang. A good friend from NYC and his partner were in town and had time to go to dinner near SFO if we could fit it in.
I offered two options:
1. El Super Burrito -- a classic California taqueria that's been around since 1977, complete with orange booths, Mexican tile tables, pinatas hanging from the roof and a swiss-style roof.
2. Shanghai Dumpling Shop -- Xiao Long Bao. Need I say more?
Good California-style Mexican is hard to come by in NYC for some completely inexplicable reason. So, they opted for El Super Burrito.
Mmmm.... I love me some Mexican food. In a show of strength and discipline by me, this would be only my 3rd Mexican meal of the week.
While standing in line, we saw that they had a special titled, "California Nachos."
I *love* nachos. I order nachos for lunch from my favorite taqueria entirely too often. My version of nachos has no sour cream, no meat, just cheese, black beans, salsa, guac, and lots of jalapenos and salsa. I think this sounds fairly Californian -- vegetarian, with an avocado component, that's what Californian food, is, right?
After a brief discussion, we decided we needed to order California Nachos for the table. I tossed out the idea of avoiding the refried beans but was shot down. I didn't even bring up the sour cream or the carne asada.
We ordered and sat, enjoying the time to catch up.
When our order was ready, I laughed hysterically.
At El Super Burrito, California Nachos means carne asada, cheese, sour cream, refried beans, salsa, and guac, all over... wait for it... some of the greasiest french fries I've ever seen instead of chips.
It was delicious.
And painful about 15 minutes later.
I think I may have cured my insatiable need for nachos.
March 20, 2012
Some Linguistic Laughs
Tonight marks the first night of Mandarin lessons where I was able to both tell and laugh at jokes. Egregiously silly jokes. Obviously basic jokes. And definitely nothing too complex given my ~70 word vocabulary.
But, even so, it felt great. I actually had some spontaneous un-scripted conversations, for the first time. Poorly (of course), but I did. Up until now, I really haven't been able to freely converse about anything, and it has been frustrating.
It's felt like it's taken longer to get to the functional conversation place in Mandarin than any other language I've ever studied. This is probably because with Japanese and Arabic I was purely CD/listening based for at least a year before my first conversation, so by then, I had many tools to draw from.
Even so, I'm shocked to learn that the tones aren't my biggest issue. The rigid sentence structure and grammar is much more difficult than I realized. Tones? I can handle the tones. And all this time, I put off Mandarin, as a *tonal* language thinking this would be the big problem. And here I am, floundering through grammar, which is usually my place of superiority. Comedy.
I can't even explain how lucky I feel to have friends who are willing to come to my house and speak Mandarin and go over my lessons and explain all the nuances (even if they weren't in my lesson). This week, all I had to do was cook pork chops over brussel sprouts (covered in a fancy dijon taragon mustard olive oil and rice vinegar sauce to be cooked down).
I feel so blessed and happy -- as if there's confirmation that I did something right with my life choices. Bonus, This is what my fridge looks like after tonight's lesson:
Apparently, in terms of conducting conversation, one of my biggest issues is time-related nouns: Last week. This weekend. Tomorrow. Next Year.
So next week, if all goes well. I'll be able to talk about last week, last weekend, next month and next year. Wish me luck!
Tonight marks the first night of Mandarin lessons where I was able to both tell and laugh at jokes. Egregiously silly jokes. Obviously basic jokes. And definitely nothing too complex given my ~70 word vocabulary.
But, even so, it felt great. I actually had some spontaneous un-scripted conversations, for the first time. Poorly (of course), but I did. Up until now, I really haven't been able to freely converse about anything, and it has been frustrating.
It's felt like it's taken longer to get to the functional conversation place in Mandarin than any other language I've ever studied. This is probably because with Japanese and Arabic I was purely CD/listening based for at least a year before my first conversation, so by then, I had many tools to draw from.
Even so, I'm shocked to learn that the tones aren't my biggest issue. The rigid sentence structure and grammar is much more difficult than I realized. Tones? I can handle the tones. And all this time, I put off Mandarin, as a *tonal* language thinking this would be the big problem. And here I am, floundering through grammar, which is usually my place of superiority. Comedy.
I can't even explain how lucky I feel to have friends who are willing to come to my house and speak Mandarin and go over my lessons and explain all the nuances (even if they weren't in my lesson). This week, all I had to do was cook pork chops over brussel sprouts (covered in a fancy dijon taragon mustard olive oil and rice vinegar sauce to be cooked down).
I feel so blessed and happy -- as if there's confirmation that I did something right with my life choices. Bonus, This is what my fridge looks like after tonight's lesson:
Apparently, in terms of conducting conversation, one of my biggest issues is time-related nouns: Last week. This weekend. Tomorrow. Next Year.
So next week, if all goes well. I'll be able to talk about last week, last weekend, next month and next year. Wish me luck!
March 17, 2012
March 13, 2012
My Best Shopping Day
I hate shopping for women's clothing.
First, it takes time. I'd rather be doing just about anything on my list of things to do.
Second, I'm short, as in too short for many petite sizes, so many things that I'd love to wear are out of the question.
Third, I have extremely broad shoulders and I'm barrel chested. When I'm fit, I'm built like a giant cone cut off above the point and mounted just above two small half-spheres (my bubble butt) and two relatively small legs. When I'm at my least fit I'm built like a giant cylinder perched atop two larger half-spheres that hover over two medium size legs.
Lest you think I'm exaggerating -- when I had to order my lab coat at University, I was an NCAA division 1 athlete and my lats and shoulders and pecs were so big I needed a 42 so it would button across my chest. This meant I had a larger lab coat than most of the men in the lab. Of course, the sleeves were ridiculously long and I had to roll them up into a 2-inch thick cuff, because, as I mentioned, I'm short.
You will note that neither of the geometric configurations I've described is common for female mannequins. So, generally speaking, women's clothes look much worse on me than on the hanger. Add florescent lighting, my general dislike for smalltalk, and a generalized feeling like I just don't understand women in groups and you can understand why shopping is not my idea of a party.
This is why I'll put off shopping until it's unavoidable. In fact, the majority of my wardrobe is composed of travel purchases. If I forget to pack something, I treat that as a need and I buy it. Then, when I come home, I donate the old version of whatever I forgot to Goodwill.
Today, after putting it off for quite some time, I headed to our local mall with a grim task -- buy a professional outfit to wear to a new client pitch tomorrow.
Thankfully, I've learned a few tricks over the years to ease my shopping pain.
The best trick is online shopping. But, that requires thinking ahead and actually committing time to shopping, which, even online, I dislike. Given that I needed the outfit for tomorrow, you can see that this was no longer an option.
The next best trick is to take a friend or family member that likes shopping. This one can backfire, though. I want to get in and out in as little time as possible. Friends that like shopping often want to linger. Also, I hate to trade quality friend/family time for less-awesome (for me) shopping time.
The third trick is going to a small store that carries a limited selection of stuff where I've liked stuff in the past. Assuming something they have works, I'll just buy it and be done. (In other words, unlike everywhere else in my life, when it comes to women's clothes, I'm a salesperson's dream. I just want to close the transaction as quickly as possible and move on.)
Today, deploying the last of my tricks, I headed to my trusted White House Black Market. They are the source of the last dress I bought (almost a year ago) and I've received tons of compliments on it, so I figured they would be a good option. I was shocked to arrive at 11 AM and find the store closed.
Turns out, this was a good thing.
I left White House Black Market and headed over to Ann Taylor, another goto smaller store where I've had some success in the past, which was open.
I picked out a few items and they informed me that today's special was 40% off any one item. Now that's something I can get excited about! If I have to buy a professional outfit, 40% off the most expensive piece helps.
Then, they informed me that they'd done mark-downs just last night. So, they encouraged me to check out the sales racks. Ordinarily, I hate sales racks -- disorganized collections of reject pieces desperately trying to worm their way into your closet when you really don't even want and definitely don't need them.
But, these sales racks were pristine. I was the first customer to have touched them since they'd been arranged -- identical items were grouped together and ordered by size.
Much to my surprise, I easily found several very cute sale items that fit me well and would be much needed supplements to my meager professional wardrobe.
I wondered, "Is this what it's like to be one of my friends who enjoys shopping? Is this how you go into a store wanting one thing and come out with 3 unrelated things?"
And then, I met Peggy.
Peggy enjoys shopping and thinking about putting outfits together more than anyone I've ever met. She announced to me that she'd looked at my selections before I got to the room and she felt like she knew me.
You trust me. I pick things for you. You will like.
Oh, thank you, Peggy.
20 minutes later, I was at the check-out counter with Peggy's recommended options: a gorgeous professional dress, a killer pair of heels, a necklace, my own-hand-picked sale items, and a very nice professional blouse that Peggy had insisted I try on.
The teller informed me that the on-sale sweater I'd been thrilled to see marked down to $29 was actually $9.
And there it was. The glimmer of joy. "This might be it," I thought, "This might just be why many women love shopping."
But wait, there's more. The teller asked me if I wanted an Ann Taylor card. I responded with my standard, "No thanks." She asked if I was sure, because I'd get 20% off of everything, even the sale items and the shoes that already had the 40% off. 5% back on everything. A birthday bonus. I did some quick math and realized that the credit card benefits maximizer in me had been hooked (plus, I love eliminating options.) So, I now own an Ann Taylor card and will likely go straight to them every time I need clothes until frustrated enough to change loyalties.
And that's how I walked out of Ann Taylor with a dress I love, some awesome shoes, a necklace, a long sleeve sweater, a tank sweater, and a professional blouse for $320.91 including tax.
Also, this may be the first time in my life I was happy about shopping for women's clothes.
I hate shopping for women's clothing.
First, it takes time. I'd rather be doing just about anything on my list of things to do.
Second, I'm short, as in too short for many petite sizes, so many things that I'd love to wear are out of the question.
Third, I have extremely broad shoulders and I'm barrel chested. When I'm fit, I'm built like a giant cone cut off above the point and mounted just above two small half-spheres (my bubble butt) and two relatively small legs. When I'm at my least fit I'm built like a giant cylinder perched atop two larger half-spheres that hover over two medium size legs.
Lest you think I'm exaggerating -- when I had to order my lab coat at University, I was an NCAA division 1 athlete and my lats and shoulders and pecs were so big I needed a 42 so it would button across my chest. This meant I had a larger lab coat than most of the men in the lab. Of course, the sleeves were ridiculously long and I had to roll them up into a 2-inch thick cuff, because, as I mentioned, I'm short.
You will note that neither of the geometric configurations I've described is common for female mannequins. So, generally speaking, women's clothes look much worse on me than on the hanger. Add florescent lighting, my general dislike for smalltalk, and a generalized feeling like I just don't understand women in groups and you can understand why shopping is not my idea of a party.
This is why I'll put off shopping until it's unavoidable. In fact, the majority of my wardrobe is composed of travel purchases. If I forget to pack something, I treat that as a need and I buy it. Then, when I come home, I donate the old version of whatever I forgot to Goodwill.
Today, after putting it off for quite some time, I headed to our local mall with a grim task -- buy a professional outfit to wear to a new client pitch tomorrow.
Thankfully, I've learned a few tricks over the years to ease my shopping pain.
The best trick is online shopping. But, that requires thinking ahead and actually committing time to shopping, which, even online, I dislike. Given that I needed the outfit for tomorrow, you can see that this was no longer an option.
The next best trick is to take a friend or family member that likes shopping. This one can backfire, though. I want to get in and out in as little time as possible. Friends that like shopping often want to linger. Also, I hate to trade quality friend/family time for less-awesome (for me) shopping time.
The third trick is going to a small store that carries a limited selection of stuff where I've liked stuff in the past. Assuming something they have works, I'll just buy it and be done. (In other words, unlike everywhere else in my life, when it comes to women's clothes, I'm a salesperson's dream. I just want to close the transaction as quickly as possible and move on.)
Today, deploying the last of my tricks, I headed to my trusted White House Black Market. They are the source of the last dress I bought (almost a year ago) and I've received tons of compliments on it, so I figured they would be a good option. I was shocked to arrive at 11 AM and find the store closed.
Turns out, this was a good thing.
I left White House Black Market and headed over to Ann Taylor, another goto smaller store where I've had some success in the past, which was open.
I picked out a few items and they informed me that today's special was 40% off any one item. Now that's something I can get excited about! If I have to buy a professional outfit, 40% off the most expensive piece helps.
Then, they informed me that they'd done mark-downs just last night. So, they encouraged me to check out the sales racks. Ordinarily, I hate sales racks -- disorganized collections of reject pieces desperately trying to worm their way into your closet when you really don't even want and definitely don't need them.
But, these sales racks were pristine. I was the first customer to have touched them since they'd been arranged -- identical items were grouped together and ordered by size.
Much to my surprise, I easily found several very cute sale items that fit me well and would be much needed supplements to my meager professional wardrobe.
I wondered, "Is this what it's like to be one of my friends who enjoys shopping? Is this how you go into a store wanting one thing and come out with 3 unrelated things?"
And then, I met Peggy.
Peggy enjoys shopping and thinking about putting outfits together more than anyone I've ever met. She announced to me that she'd looked at my selections before I got to the room and she felt like she knew me.
You trust me. I pick things for you. You will like.
Oh, thank you, Peggy.
20 minutes later, I was at the check-out counter with Peggy's recommended options: a gorgeous professional dress, a killer pair of heels, a necklace, my own-hand-picked sale items, and a very nice professional blouse that Peggy had insisted I try on.
The teller informed me that the on-sale sweater I'd been thrilled to see marked down to $29 was actually $9.
And there it was. The glimmer of joy. "This might be it," I thought, "This might just be why many women love shopping."
But wait, there's more. The teller asked me if I wanted an Ann Taylor card. I responded with my standard, "No thanks." She asked if I was sure, because I'd get 20% off of everything, even the sale items and the shoes that already had the 40% off. 5% back on everything. A birthday bonus. I did some quick math and realized that the credit card benefits maximizer in me had been hooked (plus, I love eliminating options.) So, I now own an Ann Taylor card and will likely go straight to them every time I need clothes until frustrated enough to change loyalties.
And that's how I walked out of Ann Taylor with a dress I love, some awesome shoes, a necklace, a long sleeve sweater, a tank sweater, and a professional blouse for $320.91 including tax.
Also, this may be the first time in my life I was happy about shopping for women's clothes.
March 3, 2012
Siem Reap & Angkor
The Angkor temples are the most impressive landmark I've ever seen.
The pyramids of Giza were amazing, but I felt like I saw enough to be satisfied in one day. After 2 days of visiting Angkor, I felt as if I needed to come back at least one or two more days to get the full experience.
The first day, our guide took us through the entirety of Angkor Thom and a couple smaller temples he selected.
Holy crap Southeast Asia is HOT! I was so thankful I'd done my self-imposed Bikram challenge -- the 95F and 80% humidity was *much* more tolerable than it otherwise would have been.
That afternoon, I went for spa treatment #1 -- a traditional Khmer massage.
That evening, E2 and I agreed to take the next day off. My stomach had been mildly cramping all day and I really wanted to relax and recover, which, in typical American form (as I was reminded by an Aussie on my Seoul layover tour) I hadn't actually taken a day to do since my arrival.
Unfortunately, E2 came down with an intestinal bug that night. So, after it became clear that she was sick enough to need antibiotics, I made a trip into town to the fancy pharmacy and picked up so German Cipro for the low low price of $6.20. (This fact is worth its own entire post.)
E2 took her drugs and slept, and I went to the FCC and then walked around 'til I found a spa where I had an amazing 90 minute Thai massage (the best spa treatment of the trip) for $28.
K also was coming down with some sort of intestinal issue, so, overall, we were quite the team of travelers. We acknowledged this reality and canceled our Saturday tour of the Angkor temples.
Saturday AM, E2 was feeling much better, so we headed out to Wat Bo.
We also walked around the elementary school (zoom in for the helpful larger than life diagram of proper uniforms!).
This part of the trip was probably my favorite cultural experience. Several monks stopped to chat with us as we walked through Wat Bo.
Much to our surprise, it was very clear that not many tourists made it to this part of Siem Reap. Everywhere we went in this area, school children in uniforms would yell to us, "Hullo!" "How are you?" "Wot is yur name?" They were so sincere and excited to interact with us, it was surprising. Their parents (if around) smiled with pride when we responded, obviously happy and proud that their children were able to speak English well enough to engage us. It was surprising given the masses of tourists on Pub street and markets less than 2 Km away -- but given what we saw and experienced, we could only conclude that very few tourists venture the extra mile from the tourism center to the actual functioning Buddhist monastery (we only saw 8 tourists during our visit to Wat Bo, *many* less than the monks and female construction workers).
To cap off the day with a proper indulgence, E2 and I walked through the heat 'til we found a local hotel that had just opened and enjoyed an indulgent reflexology treatment before calling for our tuk-tuk and dinner in our room.
Sunday, we woke at 4:40 to watch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. Later, we returned with a guide to get the full tour. Simply magnificent.
And then, much too quickly we were in a tuk-tuk ride to the airport and the trip was on its way to being over.
The Angkor temples are the most impressive landmark I've ever seen.
The pyramids of Giza were amazing, but I felt like I saw enough to be satisfied in one day. After 2 days of visiting Angkor, I felt as if I needed to come back at least one or two more days to get the full experience.
The first day, our guide took us through the entirety of Angkor Thom and a couple smaller temples he selected.
Holy crap Southeast Asia is HOT! I was so thankful I'd done my self-imposed Bikram challenge -- the 95F and 80% humidity was *much* more tolerable than it otherwise would have been.
That afternoon, I went for spa treatment #1 -- a traditional Khmer massage.
That evening, E2 and I agreed to take the next day off. My stomach had been mildly cramping all day and I really wanted to relax and recover, which, in typical American form (as I was reminded by an Aussie on my Seoul layover tour) I hadn't actually taken a day to do since my arrival.
Unfortunately, E2 came down with an intestinal bug that night. So, after it became clear that she was sick enough to need antibiotics, I made a trip into town to the fancy pharmacy and picked up so German Cipro for the low low price of $6.20. (This fact is worth its own entire post.)
E2 took her drugs and slept, and I went to the FCC and then walked around 'til I found a spa where I had an amazing 90 minute Thai massage (the best spa treatment of the trip) for $28.
K also was coming down with some sort of intestinal issue, so, overall, we were quite the team of travelers. We acknowledged this reality and canceled our Saturday tour of the Angkor temples.
Saturday AM, E2 was feeling much better, so we headed out to Wat Bo.
We also walked around the elementary school (zoom in for the helpful larger than life diagram of proper uniforms!).
This part of the trip was probably my favorite cultural experience. Several monks stopped to chat with us as we walked through Wat Bo.
Much to our surprise, it was very clear that not many tourists made it to this part of Siem Reap. Everywhere we went in this area, school children in uniforms would yell to us, "Hullo!" "How are you?" "Wot is yur name?" They were so sincere and excited to interact with us, it was surprising. Their parents (if around) smiled with pride when we responded, obviously happy and proud that their children were able to speak English well enough to engage us. It was surprising given the masses of tourists on Pub street and markets less than 2 Km away -- but given what we saw and experienced, we could only conclude that very few tourists venture the extra mile from the tourism center to the actual functioning Buddhist monastery (we only saw 8 tourists during our visit to Wat Bo, *many* less than the monks and female construction workers).
To cap off the day with a proper indulgence, E2 and I walked through the heat 'til we found a local hotel that had just opened and enjoyed an indulgent reflexology treatment before calling for our tuk-tuk and dinner in our room.
Sunday, we woke at 4:40 to watch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. Later, we returned with a guide to get the full tour. Simply magnificent.
And then, much too quickly we were in a tuk-tuk ride to the airport and the trip was on its way to being over.
February 29, 2012
February 22, 2012
In Transit
Yesterday was the first truly difficult travel day of the trip.
Nothing about it was extremely troubling, but nothing went exactly according to plan. Instead, it was filled with constant readjustments that were required due to cultural differences, third world realities, and lack of preparation on our part.
We made it out the door on time, and arrived to the chaos at the ferry port with plenty of time to spare. We were ambushed by porters who took our bags without permission and then we were stopped and aranged our tuk-tuk from the boat's landing station into town. It was only when he asked for money that I realized it was a scam.
I originally thought he worked for the boat company, as our tickets indicated that transport was included from the lake to the town of Siem Reap. When he tried to charge us money we walked away, annoyed. Unfortunately, despite the promise printed on our tickets, there did not appear to be any boat-related transport waiting for us at the port upon arrival. So we walked through the masses of tuk-tuk drivers hassling us and eventually convinced one to take us for free if we would give him additional work the next day. Upon arrival at our hotel, we saw the branded tuk-tuks of the hotel and realized transit was likely included with our stay, so we quickly dug into our pockets and paid him $5.
The boat was advertised as 5 hours. However, despite a 7:30 AM deparature, we did not arrive until at least 2:30 and we didn't check in to our hotel until 3 PM. On the boat, we were hassled by the porters who demanded payment for carrying our bags (despite our initial statements that we didn't want their help). I refused to pay, comfortable that my small bag had all of my valuable items -- I had had my fill of 3rd world money scamming at that point and was certain I could replace all of my clothes if my bag mysteriously disappeared. E2 and K were more generous than I was and paid the extortion fee. I should probably thank them as my bag arrived without harm as well. There was free water on the boat, so when they came around with sodas I forgot to ask how much (big 3rd world mistake). I enjoyed my coke but found myself being woken from a nap with a demand for 6,000 riels. Not an unreasonable price, just something I didn't expect since the water and bread had been *included* snacks and the soda was not (of course this distinction should have been obvious? right?)
The boat ride was long, but pleasant. Miles and miles of water and boats and fishing and river life unlike any I've ever seen. Between stints of gazing at the world speed by, I read IQ84 and found myself grinning. I don't know if I've ever read a Haruki Murakami book *except* when I've been on vacation. I love the otherworldliness of his writing, but it must be too hard for me to follow in my real life, as I completely associate his voice with the blessing of uninterrupted time and the parallel worlds of foreign cultures.
I'm actually here. In Cambodia. With friends. With access to the Internet everywhere we've gone. This modern world is the future -- I feel so lucky.
After the chaos of the ports and the boat, the dusty tuk-tuk ride bounced us over dirt and pot-hole filled roads through the country full of true Cambodian life. All types of construction on stilts to avoid the seasonal flooding. Lotus plantations.
For the first time in my life I saw a team of women laying roads. Beneath their conical hats they were wrapped from head to toe in fabric to shield their skin, eyes, mouths and noses while shoveling gravel and pouring tar in the 95F heat and ridiculous humidity. Sometimes, when I travel, I feel very close to my dad, knowing that he's with me in spirit. At that moment, as I stared in awe, I could feel him with me, watching these women manually doing the labor he used to manage with machines, shaking his head in amazement.
Finally, we arrived at our hotel and it is an oasis of calm and beauty. Good Job E2 on the selection. We ate a late lunch, relaxed by the pool, and once we were regrouped we went into town for our first experience of the frenzied collection of night markets, restaurants, stores, and tourists. I don't know if I've ever been anywhere with this many tourists. E2 claims there's only slightly less tourists than when she went to the Great Wall. It was overwhelmingly bright, loud, crowded, and bizarre.
And that was before the power went out.
Pitch black. A collective gasp from the crowds. I grabbed E2 and K's hands in case we needed to stay together. K, who's been traveling for 30+ days in Southeast Asia (and doesn't like to be touched) commented, "Oh, so we're holding hands now?" Perhaps my first instinct (that there may be a need to run together and/or keep in physical contact to avoid a stampede) was a bit strong. Apparently, the power goes out quite often here.
Upon our return to the hotel, the generator stopped and it went pitch black as well.
While reading last night, the power went out twice.
I'm an even bigger fan of my headlamp purchase than I thought!
Yesterday was the first truly difficult travel day of the trip.
Nothing about it was extremely troubling, but nothing went exactly according to plan. Instead, it was filled with constant readjustments that were required due to cultural differences, third world realities, and lack of preparation on our part.
We made it out the door on time, and arrived to the chaos at the ferry port with plenty of time to spare. We were ambushed by porters who took our bags without permission and then we were stopped and aranged our tuk-tuk from the boat's landing station into town. It was only when he asked for money that I realized it was a scam.
I originally thought he worked for the boat company, as our tickets indicated that transport was included from the lake to the town of Siem Reap. When he tried to charge us money we walked away, annoyed. Unfortunately, despite the promise printed on our tickets, there did not appear to be any boat-related transport waiting for us at the port upon arrival. So we walked through the masses of tuk-tuk drivers hassling us and eventually convinced one to take us for free if we would give him additional work the next day. Upon arrival at our hotel, we saw the branded tuk-tuks of the hotel and realized transit was likely included with our stay, so we quickly dug into our pockets and paid him $5.
The boat was advertised as 5 hours. However, despite a 7:30 AM deparature, we did not arrive until at least 2:30 and we didn't check in to our hotel until 3 PM. On the boat, we were hassled by the porters who demanded payment for carrying our bags (despite our initial statements that we didn't want their help). I refused to pay, comfortable that my small bag had all of my valuable items -- I had had my fill of 3rd world money scamming at that point and was certain I could replace all of my clothes if my bag mysteriously disappeared. E2 and K were more generous than I was and paid the extortion fee. I should probably thank them as my bag arrived without harm as well. There was free water on the boat, so when they came around with sodas I forgot to ask how much (big 3rd world mistake). I enjoyed my coke but found myself being woken from a nap with a demand for 6,000 riels. Not an unreasonable price, just something I didn't expect since the water and bread had been *included* snacks and the soda was not (of course this distinction should have been obvious? right?)
The boat ride was long, but pleasant. Miles and miles of water and boats and fishing and river life unlike any I've ever seen. Between stints of gazing at the world speed by, I read IQ84 and found myself grinning. I don't know if I've ever read a Haruki Murakami book *except* when I've been on vacation. I love the otherworldliness of his writing, but it must be too hard for me to follow in my real life, as I completely associate his voice with the blessing of uninterrupted time and the parallel worlds of foreign cultures.
I'm actually here. In Cambodia. With friends. With access to the Internet everywhere we've gone. This modern world is the future -- I feel so lucky.
After the chaos of the ports and the boat, the dusty tuk-tuk ride bounced us over dirt and pot-hole filled roads through the country full of true Cambodian life. All types of construction on stilts to avoid the seasonal flooding. Lotus plantations.
For the first time in my life I saw a team of women laying roads. Beneath their conical hats they were wrapped from head to toe in fabric to shield their skin, eyes, mouths and noses while shoveling gravel and pouring tar in the 95F heat and ridiculous humidity. Sometimes, when I travel, I feel very close to my dad, knowing that he's with me in spirit. At that moment, as I stared in awe, I could feel him with me, watching these women manually doing the labor he used to manage with machines, shaking his head in amazement.
Finally, we arrived at our hotel and it is an oasis of calm and beauty. Good Job E2 on the selection. We ate a late lunch, relaxed by the pool, and once we were regrouped we went into town for our first experience of the frenzied collection of night markets, restaurants, stores, and tourists. I don't know if I've ever been anywhere with this many tourists. E2 claims there's only slightly less tourists than when she went to the Great Wall. It was overwhelmingly bright, loud, crowded, and bizarre.
And that was before the power went out.
Pitch black. A collective gasp from the crowds. I grabbed E2 and K's hands in case we needed to stay together. K, who's been traveling for 30+ days in Southeast Asia (and doesn't like to be touched) commented, "Oh, so we're holding hands now?" Perhaps my first instinct (that there may be a need to run together and/or keep in physical contact to avoid a stampede) was a bit strong. Apparently, the power goes out quite often here.
Upon our return to the hotel, the generator stopped and it went pitch black as well.
While reading last night, the power went out twice.
I'm an even bigger fan of my headlamp purchase than I thought!
February 20, 2012
Phnom Penh
We started with my favorite thing to do in a new country: walking without purpose. All told, we did 5+ miles with a couple of leisurely stops ($7 mani-pedi and lunch) on the first day.
The independent monument. The riverfront. The traffic is a crazy combination of tuk-tuks, motos, cars, bikes, and more going in each and every direction. So, crossing the street is an act of courage (or
stupidity).
For dinner we met up with K and a friend-of-a-friend of her's, A. A is working on the international criminal tribunal persecuting the Khmer Rouge. He's been living in Phnom Penh for 7 months and was a great host, explaining all about the culture and taking us to Romdeng restaurant for a delicious Cambodian meal (the restaurant trains and employs former street kids) followed by the obligatory visit to the rooftop lounge at the Foreign Correspondence Club.
Additional highlights included the Royal Palace, the National Museum, the Genocide Museum, and several great meals of Khmer food (including fried tarantulas).
Overall, Phnom Penh is much less foreign, less difficult to manage, and more expensive than I thought. I very much enjoyed this visit.
We started with my favorite thing to do in a new country: walking without purpose. All told, we did 5+ miles with a couple of leisurely stops ($7 mani-pedi and lunch) on the first day.
The independent monument. The riverfront. The traffic is a crazy combination of tuk-tuks, motos, cars, bikes, and more going in each and every direction. So, crossing the street is an act of courage (or
stupidity).
For dinner we met up with K and a friend-of-a-friend of her's, A. A is working on the international criminal tribunal persecuting the Khmer Rouge. He's been living in Phnom Penh for 7 months and was a great host, explaining all about the culture and taking us to Romdeng restaurant for a delicious Cambodian meal (the restaurant trains and employs former street kids) followed by the obligatory visit to the rooftop lounge at the Foreign Correspondence Club.
Additional highlights included the Royal Palace, the National Museum, the Genocide Museum, and several great meals of Khmer food (including fried tarantulas).
Overall, Phnom Penh is much less foreign, less difficult to manage, and more expensive than I thought. I very much enjoyed this visit.
February 19, 2012
Cambodia: Day 1
Calm. That was my first impression of this country.
The masses with signs waiting for their friends and family were still. Easy. Smiling.
The taxi line was almost silent. A motion to beckon us forward and a second one to advance the next taxi in line. A gentle placement of our bags and firm but gentle closing of the trunk.
The chaos and confusion of an arrival in a foreign land was so diminished. In short, I loved it.
Our taxi driver spoke reasonable English (which is good because neither E2 nor I had a word of Khmer). Quietly, but helpfully, he suggested places to go. Close to the end of the ride, he reiterated that it was important that we visit a few of the sites because we needed to learn about the Kmer Rouge genocide.
It was a sobering moment.
He seemed so young and small and gentle. And, then, I realized, everyone I'd seen had been young: all the people waiting at the airport, all the people in the street (in fairness it was late at night). I had been told that the missing generation from the genocide would be apparent.
But, still, I wasn't prepared. I've never arrived for a vacation and had my first interactions with a local defined by atrocities in their recent history.
Calm. That was my first impression of this country.
The masses with signs waiting for their friends and family were still. Easy. Smiling.
The taxi line was almost silent. A motion to beckon us forward and a second one to advance the next taxi in line. A gentle placement of our bags and firm but gentle closing of the trunk.
The chaos and confusion of an arrival in a foreign land was so diminished. In short, I loved it.
Our taxi driver spoke reasonable English (which is good because neither E2 nor I had a word of Khmer). Quietly, but helpfully, he suggested places to go. Close to the end of the ride, he reiterated that it was important that we visit a few of the sites because we needed to learn about the Kmer Rouge genocide.
It was a sobering moment.
He seemed so young and small and gentle. And, then, I realized, everyone I'd seen had been young: all the people waiting at the airport, all the people in the street (in fairness it was late at night). I had been told that the missing generation from the genocide would be apparent.
But, still, I wasn't prepared. I've never arrived for a vacation and had my first interactions with a local defined by atrocities in their recent history.
Cambodia: Arrival
First, the tropical birds and their singing chorus. Then the geckos. Then the meep-meep-meep of tiny horns in small cars zipping down the road, and finally, the cacophony of high pitched barking dogs.
My first sunrise in Phnom Penh. 6:20 AM here. 3:20 PM at home.
The sounds of sunrise were much more impressive than the view, as all I could really do was watch the sky change colors against the outline of a partially constructed concrete and rebar building across the street.
I'm sitting on the balcony of our hotel in Phnom Penh with a mean case of jet lag. Despite traveling for approximately 24 hours straight between departing our house and arriving at the hotel, I was only able to sleep a totally of 4 or so hours last night (I'd guess).
Given how long the travel was, I expected to be more destroyed when we arrived, but I surprised myself by arriving in reasonably decent condition. I actually think I owe my 10 day Bikram challenge a little bit of credit as I found myself more in tune with how I was feeling than I typically do on flights. I stood up and did miniature versions of camel, side angle posture, bow-pulling pose, and forward bend on several occasion. Also, in addition to the large bottle of water I brought, I downed the small bottle they gave us and I took a glass of water every time liquid was offered. Bikram definitely put me in the habit of drinking more water than I ordinarily do.
12 hours on Korean Air from SFO to Seoul was a very pleasant international flight. Bibimbap for the first meal = delicious. The remainder of the meals were edible (which, sadly, these days, is a fairly good performance).
I took the time to bask in uninterrupted consumption of media for pleasure: 2 french films, 1 Italian film, 1 American film, 1 600 page Vogue, 1 Vanity fair, and half a national geographic. Talk about indulgence! This is another reason why I love to travel. My brain gets exposure to things outside its everyday experience -- I can actually feel myself thinking differently.
We had a very tight connection in Seoul, which was exciting. Incheon was overwhelmingly huge and more crowded than any airport I'd ever been to (or perhaps just the mad dash made it seem that way).
Then just 5.5 hours for a second Korean Air flight, some fitfull sleep spells, a quick e-visa clearance through immigration, handing the customs form to agents, and we were outside in the humid air.
We had the typical arrival confusion -- it looked like our hotel had closed for the night when we arrived. But, once we sorted that out, we were fine.
A quick dip in our plunge pool to rinse off, some wine, melatonin, and lights out.
Unfortunately, I woke around 4 AM with some seriously painful intestinal cramping. Immediately, I regretted forgetting to use bottled water on my toothbrush. While I was in quite a bit of pain, I was thankful to think back to struggling on the mat in Bikram -- I could tough this out, I could breathe and focus. This too would pass, I told myself (which was much easier to do once I realized that while it hurt as much as when I had kidney stones, it was located along my large intestinal path, and I didn't have any signs of a fever).
I went outside and did some yoga while staring at the stars, reminding myself to enjoy this moment, to accept it, and to breathe. Eventually, I went back to bed, and tossed and turned 'til sunrise, when thankfully, I discovered that the pain was gone.
Off to Phnom Penh adventures.
First, the tropical birds and their singing chorus. Then the geckos. Then the meep-meep-meep of tiny horns in small cars zipping down the road, and finally, the cacophony of high pitched barking dogs.
My first sunrise in Phnom Penh. 6:20 AM here. 3:20 PM at home.
The sounds of sunrise were much more impressive than the view, as all I could really do was watch the sky change colors against the outline of a partially constructed concrete and rebar building across the street.
I'm sitting on the balcony of our hotel in Phnom Penh with a mean case of jet lag. Despite traveling for approximately 24 hours straight between departing our house and arriving at the hotel, I was only able to sleep a totally of 4 or so hours last night (I'd guess).
Given how long the travel was, I expected to be more destroyed when we arrived, but I surprised myself by arriving in reasonably decent condition. I actually think I owe my 10 day Bikram challenge a little bit of credit as I found myself more in tune with how I was feeling than I typically do on flights. I stood up and did miniature versions of camel, side angle posture, bow-pulling pose, and forward bend on several occasion. Also, in addition to the large bottle of water I brought, I downed the small bottle they gave us and I took a glass of water every time liquid was offered. Bikram definitely put me in the habit of drinking more water than I ordinarily do.
12 hours on Korean Air from SFO to Seoul was a very pleasant international flight. Bibimbap for the first meal = delicious. The remainder of the meals were edible (which, sadly, these days, is a fairly good performance).
I took the time to bask in uninterrupted consumption of media for pleasure: 2 french films, 1 Italian film, 1 American film, 1 600 page Vogue, 1 Vanity fair, and half a national geographic. Talk about indulgence! This is another reason why I love to travel. My brain gets exposure to things outside its everyday experience -- I can actually feel myself thinking differently.
We had a very tight connection in Seoul, which was exciting. Incheon was overwhelmingly huge and more crowded than any airport I'd ever been to (or perhaps just the mad dash made it seem that way).
Then just 5.5 hours for a second Korean Air flight, some fitfull sleep spells, a quick e-visa clearance through immigration, handing the customs form to agents, and we were outside in the humid air.
We had the typical arrival confusion -- it looked like our hotel had closed for the night when we arrived. But, once we sorted that out, we were fine.
A quick dip in our plunge pool to rinse off, some wine, melatonin, and lights out.
Unfortunately, I woke around 4 AM with some seriously painful intestinal cramping. Immediately, I regretted forgetting to use bottled water on my toothbrush. While I was in quite a bit of pain, I was thankful to think back to struggling on the mat in Bikram -- I could tough this out, I could breathe and focus. This too would pass, I told myself (which was much easier to do once I realized that while it hurt as much as when I had kidney stones, it was located along my large intestinal path, and I didn't have any signs of a fever).
I went outside and did some yoga while staring at the stars, reminding myself to enjoy this moment, to accept it, and to breathe. Eventually, I went back to bed, and tossed and turned 'til sunrise, when thankfully, I discovered that the pain was gone.
Off to Phnom Penh adventures.
February 17, 2012
Bikram 10-day Challenge: Day 12
Yeah, you read that right. I didn't make day 10. Or day 11. But I did make it today for the 10th Bikram Class in 12 days.
Not quite the goal I'd set for myself. And yet, I still feel great. Ten 90-minute bikram classes (aka torture sessions) in 12 days. Despite my chaotic life? That feels like success to me.
How'd I miss day 10? An argument with E that ran overtime. So un-yoga. And yet, so true. Life does stuff like arguments that cause you to lose track of time.
And then, day 11 had no space for a class. So I re-arranged day 12 (despite the fact that it was the last stateside day before a 10-day international vacation) to fit in the class.
And, I did the whole thing, today. Tired (exhausted due to lack of pre-travel sleep, if I'm honest), but committed to finishing out the full 10 days of focused practice before leaving for vacation. I managed to do a more pose-by-pose approach this time around which allowed me to do my best in most poses, although I did opt out after 5 seconds in the first Camel. Man, that pose just wrecks me...
Overall, the big picture lessons I can say I learned are:
1. A big goal is great. Even if you miss it by 10%, you still do more than you otherwise would have done without it.
2. Laundry demands from Bikram are insane. Seriously, I have no idea how anyone without a line for drying or a housekeeper deals with the dripping wet towels and costumes on a daily basis.
3. Starting is the hardest part. Almost every class I took during my challenge I was able to watch a newbie (the first class, it was me!). Since I'd so recently been one, I felt for them. Starting and getting through the first standing series was by far the hardest part for me and based on observations, it looks like that's generally true.
I suppose this is the point where I wax eloquent about feeling comfortable failing. I learned during this challenge, that apparently, the athlete's approach of "this is my goal training plan" but I'll call it success if I hit 85% or 90% is totally unknown in the business world.
How weird.
I think my favorite approach is shoot for the far away stars. Just don't forget to reward yourself if you merely establish something cool in your own solar system.
Yeah, you read that right. I didn't make day 10. Or day 11. But I did make it today for the 10th Bikram Class in 12 days.
Not quite the goal I'd set for myself. And yet, I still feel great. Ten 90-minute bikram classes (aka torture sessions) in 12 days. Despite my chaotic life? That feels like success to me.
How'd I miss day 10? An argument with E that ran overtime. So un-yoga. And yet, so true. Life does stuff like arguments that cause you to lose track of time.
And then, day 11 had no space for a class. So I re-arranged day 12 (despite the fact that it was the last stateside day before a 10-day international vacation) to fit in the class.
And, I did the whole thing, today. Tired (exhausted due to lack of pre-travel sleep, if I'm honest), but committed to finishing out the full 10 days of focused practice before leaving for vacation. I managed to do a more pose-by-pose approach this time around which allowed me to do my best in most poses, although I did opt out after 5 seconds in the first Camel. Man, that pose just wrecks me...
Overall, the big picture lessons I can say I learned are:
1. A big goal is great. Even if you miss it by 10%, you still do more than you otherwise would have done without it.
2. Laundry demands from Bikram are insane. Seriously, I have no idea how anyone without a line for drying or a housekeeper deals with the dripping wet towels and costumes on a daily basis.
3. Starting is the hardest part. Almost every class I took during my challenge I was able to watch a newbie (the first class, it was me!). Since I'd so recently been one, I felt for them. Starting and getting through the first standing series was by far the hardest part for me and based on observations, it looks like that's generally true.
I suppose this is the point where I wax eloquent about feeling comfortable failing. I learned during this challenge, that apparently, the athlete's approach of "this is my goal training plan" but I'll call it success if I hit 85% or 90% is totally unknown in the business world.
How weird.
I think my favorite approach is shoot for the far away stars. Just don't forget to reward yourself if you merely establish something cool in your own solar system.
February 14, 2012
10-day Bikram Challenge: Day 9
8 AM class was the only option that worked with my schedule.
So, I managed to motivate for the early wake up, packed street clothes, busted through the entire series with something bordering on ease, and then showered and headed out for my day.
I pushed to the deepest I've gone in many of the poses, in particular, the backbends. Camel still gave me a bit of trouble with some dizziness, but overall, I was much more comfortable than I have been.
I spent much of the class being thoroughly impressed by a woman in her 60s who was struggling through her first class. She did amazingly well and stayed in the room for the entire 90+ minutes despite her friend's quick exit after pranayama breathing.
And now, I can't believe tomorrow is day 10.
8 AM class was the only option that worked with my schedule.
So, I managed to motivate for the early wake up, packed street clothes, busted through the entire series with something bordering on ease, and then showered and headed out for my day.
I pushed to the deepest I've gone in many of the poses, in particular, the backbends. Camel still gave me a bit of trouble with some dizziness, but overall, I was much more comfortable than I have been.
I spent much of the class being thoroughly impressed by a woman in her 60s who was struggling through her first class. She did amazingly well and stayed in the room for the entire 90+ minutes despite her friend's quick exit after pranayama breathing.
And now, I can't believe tomorrow is day 10.
February 13, 2012
Bikram 10-day Challenge: Day 8
Today's schedule didn't allow for anything other than the 6 AM Bikram class.
Yup, discipline is definitely one of the benefits of this challenge. I put myself to bed early and woke at 5:30 to fit in today's class.
It was tough to get out of bed at that hour, but I was rewarded with a pleasant experience -- the room wasn't too warm when I showed up, so I warmed up slowly with the room. I took it relatively easy, but made sure to complete all of the poses. I pushed through both camels in the full posture, which isn't something I've done thus far. Overall, this was the least uncomfortable and easiest experience I've had with the series.
And then, it was 7:30 and I was ready to start my day.
Today's schedule didn't allow for anything other than the 6 AM Bikram class.
Yup, discipline is definitely one of the benefits of this challenge. I put myself to bed early and woke at 5:30 to fit in today's class.
It was tough to get out of bed at that hour, but I was rewarded with a pleasant experience -- the room wasn't too warm when I showed up, so I warmed up slowly with the room. I took it relatively easy, but made sure to complete all of the poses. I pushed through both camels in the full posture, which isn't something I've done thus far. Overall, this was the least uncomfortable and easiest experience I've had with the series.
And then, it was 7:30 and I was ready to start my day.
February 12, 2012
Bikram 10 Day Challenge: Day 7
This morning's class was the best one so far -- I made it through the entire series without opting out of any of the poses. I handled the heat much better than normal, so I was able to push myself deeper in many of the poses (no doubt I'll be sore tomorrow).
Waking at 7:30 to go to Bikram took a bit of motivation, but now I'm so glad I did it.
I feel relaxed and energized, all at the same time.
3 to go.
This morning's class was the best one so far -- I made it through the entire series without opting out of any of the poses. I handled the heat much better than normal, so I was able to push myself deeper in many of the poses (no doubt I'll be sore tomorrow).
Waking at 7:30 to go to Bikram took a bit of motivation, but now I'm so glad I did it.
I feel relaxed and energized, all at the same time.
3 to go.
February 11, 2012
Bikram 10-day challenge: Day 6
Showing up for class #6 today meant that I was more than half-way done.
I rewarded myself by buying a fancy yoga mat and a 20 class card (the special for new students is $250 for 20 classes, but you have to purchase during the 10-day trial period). The classes expire in 6 months, so when I get back from Cambodia, I'll have about 5.5 months to get through 20 classes. If I assume a few travel snags, that puts me on track for a minimum of one class per week when I'm home. Ideally, I'd like to do more (possibly 3 or 4), but I like the idea that at I'm financially committed to at least one class per week after Cambodia.
Today's class was the most crowded class I've attended so far (apparently there are many weekend warriors in Bikram).
Z, the new student from yesterday, came back and stayed through the entire class. We waived hello at the beginning and high-fived at the end.
The heat and humidity felt like it was much harder for me than the last couple of classes, but whenever I looked, the thermometer appeared to be in the 104-105F range rather than inching up to 108 or 107 as it had in prior classes. Perhaps all the sweat and exhalation from that many people noticeably increases the humidity? Or, perhaps more realistically, last night's date night full of fancy food and wine made efficiently handling the heat a bit difficult on my system?
I rested during the first bow pulling pose, tree pose (but did tree instead of toe-stand), and the second half lotus pose. I wanted to opt out of more of the poses, or, just leave the room on several occasions, so I was struggling quite a bit.
Tomorrow, my goal is going to be to focus on completing the pose I'm doing. Nothing more, nothing less. I think I get wrapped up in how much of the class is left, how tired and uncomfortable I already am, and I spend too much time thinking about how the class might play out, which interferes with my ability to focus and just be in the current pose.
That being said, I definitely pushed several of the poses today to levels I haven't reached in a long time. How do I know? Oh, my hamstrings, lower back, and shoulders are more sore today than they have been since I started this process.
It would appear, at least in my case, there's something to Bikram's claim that the heat makes it a safer practice. I definitely wasn't trying to push the limits of my strength or flexibility (or even really making myself too sore) the first few classes. Instead, I was entirely focused on surviving the heat.
Tomorrow, I've got 2 options, 8 AM or 10 AM. I'd love to get up and bust it out by 8, but sleeping in may trump. We'll see.
Showing up for class #6 today meant that I was more than half-way done.
I rewarded myself by buying a fancy yoga mat and a 20 class card (the special for new students is $250 for 20 classes, but you have to purchase during the 10-day trial period). The classes expire in 6 months, so when I get back from Cambodia, I'll have about 5.5 months to get through 20 classes. If I assume a few travel snags, that puts me on track for a minimum of one class per week when I'm home. Ideally, I'd like to do more (possibly 3 or 4), but I like the idea that at I'm financially committed to at least one class per week after Cambodia.
Today's class was the most crowded class I've attended so far (apparently there are many weekend warriors in Bikram).
Z, the new student from yesterday, came back and stayed through the entire class. We waived hello at the beginning and high-fived at the end.
The heat and humidity felt like it was much harder for me than the last couple of classes, but whenever I looked, the thermometer appeared to be in the 104-105F range rather than inching up to 108 or 107 as it had in prior classes. Perhaps all the sweat and exhalation from that many people noticeably increases the humidity? Or, perhaps more realistically, last night's date night full of fancy food and wine made efficiently handling the heat a bit difficult on my system?
I rested during the first bow pulling pose, tree pose (but did tree instead of toe-stand), and the second half lotus pose. I wanted to opt out of more of the poses, or, just leave the room on several occasions, so I was struggling quite a bit.
Tomorrow, my goal is going to be to focus on completing the pose I'm doing. Nothing more, nothing less. I think I get wrapped up in how much of the class is left, how tired and uncomfortable I already am, and I spend too much time thinking about how the class might play out, which interferes with my ability to focus and just be in the current pose.
That being said, I definitely pushed several of the poses today to levels I haven't reached in a long time. How do I know? Oh, my hamstrings, lower back, and shoulders are more sore today than they have been since I started this process.
It would appear, at least in my case, there's something to Bikram's claim that the heat makes it a safer practice. I definitely wasn't trying to push the limits of my strength or flexibility (or even really making myself too sore) the first few classes. Instead, I was entirely focused on surviving the heat.
Tomorrow, I've got 2 options, 8 AM or 10 AM. I'd love to get up and bust it out by 8, but sleeping in may trump. We'll see.
February 10, 2012
Bikram 10 day challenge: Half-way
Today's AM class was tough. I suspect that's always true at this studio, but I found it more difficult than last night's class.
I struggled through as long as I could (no straight leg head to knee for me. Just holding the foot, locking the leg, thanks). Eventually, I opted out of the first triangle pose, but after granting myself that respite, I pushed through all the other poses and I did several of the backbends at an actual "I'm trying" effort whereas before I've just been going through the motions 'til I felt certain I could finish the series.
When I wasn't desperately trying to regulate my nose breathing, I couldn't help but notice that a new student actually managed to leave the room in today's class.
After 5 consecutive days, and after wanting to do so myself, I've never seen anyone successfully do so.
There is mad group psychological pressure and tricks going on in Bikram. Make no mistake. They are geared to make you better in your practice, but they are strong, and not to be underestimated.
The instructor tried to convince her to stay, but eventually, the vulcan mind tricks that worked on me and convinced me to tough it out failed, and she escaped.
In an unfortunate coincidence for her, being new, she made the faux-pas of bringing her purse into the practice room, so she couldn't actually leave for good. And, in all honesty, she probably couldn't have left anyways, because this studio locks the front doors during the class (I wonder how this lines up with fire codes?).
At the end of the class, I was pleased to see the group of people encouraging the new student to come back. I'd been exactly behind her, and I'd watched her rest and try to engage through the remainder of the class once she'd been coaxed back into the room. I told her I'd almost puked my first class 5 days ago, but that I felt much better in the heat now, and that at this point I could make it through the entire series (or, almost, anyways).
I hope she comes back.
Either way, I'm impressed that I've done 5 days straight and I'm excited for the next 5.
Today's AM class was tough. I suspect that's always true at this studio, but I found it more difficult than last night's class.
I struggled through as long as I could (no straight leg head to knee for me. Just holding the foot, locking the leg, thanks). Eventually, I opted out of the first triangle pose, but after granting myself that respite, I pushed through all the other poses and I did several of the backbends at an actual "I'm trying" effort whereas before I've just been going through the motions 'til I felt certain I could finish the series.
When I wasn't desperately trying to regulate my nose breathing, I couldn't help but notice that a new student actually managed to leave the room in today's class.
After 5 consecutive days, and after wanting to do so myself, I've never seen anyone successfully do so.
There is mad group psychological pressure and tricks going on in Bikram. Make no mistake. They are geared to make you better in your practice, but they are strong, and not to be underestimated.
The instructor tried to convince her to stay, but eventually, the vulcan mind tricks that worked on me and convinced me to tough it out failed, and she escaped.
In an unfortunate coincidence for her, being new, she made the faux-pas of bringing her purse into the practice room, so she couldn't actually leave for good. And, in all honesty, she probably couldn't have left anyways, because this studio locks the front doors during the class (I wonder how this lines up with fire codes?).
At the end of the class, I was pleased to see the group of people encouraging the new student to come back. I'd been exactly behind her, and I'd watched her rest and try to engage through the remainder of the class once she'd been coaxed back into the room. I told her I'd almost puked my first class 5 days ago, but that I felt much better in the heat now, and that at this point I could make it through the entire series (or, almost, anyways).
I hope she comes back.
Either way, I'm impressed that I've done 5 days straight and I'm excited for the next 5.
February 9, 2012
10 Day Bikram Challenge: Day 4
I learned from yesterday. I had a *very* light lunch and found it much easier to get through today's afternoon/evening class.
It was less crowded and I sat near the door for better access the cooling breeze, but overall, I was just stronger and better able to deal with the heat this time. When I made it through the entire standing series without opting out of any poses, I was fairly certain I could push through the floor series to finish all 52 poses for the first time in a very long time (and the very first time in such heat).
And, I did it.
The instructor, Mary, was very supportive when I thanked her for teaching such a great class and let her know that it was my first time through the whole thing without needing a break at this studio.
I'm hoping to keep this up for the remaining 6 days.
I learned from yesterday. I had a *very* light lunch and found it much easier to get through today's afternoon/evening class.
It was less crowded and I sat near the door for better access the cooling breeze, but overall, I was just stronger and better able to deal with the heat this time. When I made it through the entire standing series without opting out of any poses, I was fairly certain I could push through the floor series to finish all 52 poses for the first time in a very long time (and the very first time in such heat).
And, I did it.
The instructor, Mary, was very supportive when I thanked her for teaching such a great class and let her know that it was my first time through the whole thing without needing a break at this studio.
I'm hoping to keep this up for the remaining 6 days.
February 8, 2012
Bikram 10-day Challenge: Day 3
Today's class was much more difficult than yesterday's.
First, despite the fact that I finished lunch almost 4 hours before class, the residual food and digestion did not treat me well (and I'd even specifically requested that my business meeting serve mediterranean food, hoping that veggie would be easier). I found I was much more likely to become nauseous in today's 4:30 - 6 PM class than I had in the 2 previous AM classes I'd attended with an empty belly.
Second, this class was crowded, so there was much more heat and humidity than the last one. Also, I arrived close to starting time, so I found a place in the corner, far from the cooling door of welcome breeze that is opened a few times to allow fresh air to bathe the practice. Talk about incentive to arrive earlier!
I did a very ugly bargaining about quitting/leaving with myself a few times.
I would have done so in the first class, but then, Cynthia Wehr, the owner, had me in her sights. She made it clear that she really wanted me to stay in the room and I didn't want to let her down, plus for no good reason I could identify, I inherently trusted that she wouldn't try to keep me there if I really couldn't handle it. After the class, on my way out, she confirmed that she was very happy I'd been able to stay in the room.
I've never had a yoga instructor who was so personally attuned to my struggle. I've also never struggled so much in a class. But that was then, Class 1.
This afternoon, class 3, she was not the instructor (she did her own practice), and I was not the new student targeted for special attention. So I struggled even more and the quitter/protector in me tried to convince the more committed one that I should leave a few times ("It's so hot... this can't be good for you." "40 More minutes? How can you possibly do that? Do you want to?" etc.).
Success. I stuck it out. 3 down. 7 to go.
And, thanks to the re-introduction to the practice at this local studio, I'm even more fascinated by the Bikram practice than ever before. In particular, I'm finding the lessons I learned in my other Yogic studies to be so much more powerful in the Bikram setting than they were in the normal (non-heated) yoga room.
The first time I did Bikram, I was *just* an ex-athlete. It was an awesomely demanding athletic endeavor. It drew me into yoga. I followed through and explored.
And now, after that exploration, I've got 8+ years of regular study of Ashtanga, Iyengar, Power-yoga, Vinyasa, restorative, yoga-shakti, blended-personal-whatever under my belt. I can reach deep and use tools I've built to work through the difficult stuff. And, I'm realizing, it's a good thing I can, because the original Bikram studio I attended was much less militant than Mountain View's.
I have no idea if I could have been a Bikram follower in the Mountain View studio without my previous studies. Of course, I see others in the classes that are clearly just meeting yoga for the first time, and they are inspired and committed, so perhaps I am unreasonable.
But, this time around, what I'm finding is, the heat is a ridiculous equalizer. My original introduction to Bikram was nowhere near as hot as this studio. It was perfect for me then (typically maxing out at 100F), but it didn't require anything close to what this studio requires (often maxing out at 108F). This studio puts me into survival mode and I drop all extraneous thoughts other than getting through the class and the occasionally self-aware thought about how I am doing, how my body frame looks in the mirror (and how to modify it), how I could probably push the current pose further, etc. There is just no space for thoughts about anything outside of my physical body.
If I'm honest, I have to admit that I made many more comparisons of myself against other students in a non-heated yoga room when I was developing a more "traditional" practice. I often felt pride in my flexibility, my strength, my ability to keep up with those doing teacher-trainings even though I wasn't.
But here... sheesh, I'm just happy I manage to stop myself from running out of the room screaming for cool air. Also, I find that I close my eyes in relaxing poses and when they remind us that Bikram is 90 minutes of eye-open meditation, I feel lazy. Because, damn, it feels so good to close your eyes and try to escape in the Shavasana before you have to start moving again... but no, this studio's Bikram is truly about forcing you to be present in a *very* *uncomofortable* reality.
For the first time ever in my yoga practice, I often catch myself *just* breathing with a calm mind (usually right before I freak out about how difficult the class is).
I feel like I'm learning more about myself, my honesty with myself about how uncomfortable I actually am in any given moment, and what I'm capable of than I've learned in a very long time.
Also, I'm just so grateful such a challenging practice opened so close to my home. In the locker room today, I chatted with a runner who had done her first Bikram class -- she asked me for confirmation, "I mean, this is harder than a half marathon, right?" I hadn't thought about it on those terms, but when challenged, I had to agree. If you don't put a pace goal on a half, and you just have to finish -- oh, hell yes, a Mountain View Bikram 90 minute yoga session is much harder (**full and fair disclosure, at your edge race pace, I think a half is probably slightly harder because you can slack between poses in the class, but that's not what this woman wanted to discuss**)
In short, I don't know where this will lead, but I fully expect to finish my 10-day self-challenge of Bikram and, given the benefits I've already experienced, I suspect I will be developing a long-term relationship with Bikram Yoga Mountain View.
(Today's pose summary: skipped 2nd triangle, 1st tree, 1st 1/2 lotus, 1st camel -- 48/52 completed. Touched my forehead to the ground in separate leg stretching and sat all the way down in fixed firm.)
Here's a video of how hardcore the owner is (a year ago, 3 years after she won the world yoga championship) to help you understand where some of my awe for this studio comes from:
Today's class was much more difficult than yesterday's.
First, despite the fact that I finished lunch almost 4 hours before class, the residual food and digestion did not treat me well (and I'd even specifically requested that my business meeting serve mediterranean food, hoping that veggie would be easier). I found I was much more likely to become nauseous in today's 4:30 - 6 PM class than I had in the 2 previous AM classes I'd attended with an empty belly.
Second, this class was crowded, so there was much more heat and humidity than the last one. Also, I arrived close to starting time, so I found a place in the corner, far from the cooling door of welcome breeze that is opened a few times to allow fresh air to bathe the practice. Talk about incentive to arrive earlier!
I did a very ugly bargaining about quitting/leaving with myself a few times.
I would have done so in the first class, but then, Cynthia Wehr, the owner, had me in her sights. She made it clear that she really wanted me to stay in the room and I didn't want to let her down, plus for no good reason I could identify, I inherently trusted that she wouldn't try to keep me there if I really couldn't handle it. After the class, on my way out, she confirmed that she was very happy I'd been able to stay in the room.
I've never had a yoga instructor who was so personally attuned to my struggle. I've also never struggled so much in a class. But that was then, Class 1.
This afternoon, class 3, she was not the instructor (she did her own practice), and I was not the new student targeted for special attention. So I struggled even more and the quitter/protector in me tried to convince the more committed one that I should leave a few times ("It's so hot... this can't be good for you." "40 More minutes? How can you possibly do that? Do you want to?" etc.).
Success. I stuck it out. 3 down. 7 to go.
And, thanks to the re-introduction to the practice at this local studio, I'm even more fascinated by the Bikram practice than ever before. In particular, I'm finding the lessons I learned in my other Yogic studies to be so much more powerful in the Bikram setting than they were in the normal (non-heated) yoga room.
The first time I did Bikram, I was *just* an ex-athlete. It was an awesomely demanding athletic endeavor. It drew me into yoga. I followed through and explored.
And now, after that exploration, I've got 8+ years of regular study of Ashtanga, Iyengar, Power-yoga, Vinyasa, restorative, yoga-shakti, blended-personal-whatever under my belt. I can reach deep and use tools I've built to work through the difficult stuff. And, I'm realizing, it's a good thing I can, because the original Bikram studio I attended was much less militant than Mountain View's.
I have no idea if I could have been a Bikram follower in the Mountain View studio without my previous studies. Of course, I see others in the classes that are clearly just meeting yoga for the first time, and they are inspired and committed, so perhaps I am unreasonable.
But, this time around, what I'm finding is, the heat is a ridiculous equalizer. My original introduction to Bikram was nowhere near as hot as this studio. It was perfect for me then (typically maxing out at 100F), but it didn't require anything close to what this studio requires (often maxing out at 108F). This studio puts me into survival mode and I drop all extraneous thoughts other than getting through the class and the occasionally self-aware thought about how I am doing, how my body frame looks in the mirror (and how to modify it), how I could probably push the current pose further, etc. There is just no space for thoughts about anything outside of my physical body.
If I'm honest, I have to admit that I made many more comparisons of myself against other students in a non-heated yoga room when I was developing a more "traditional" practice. I often felt pride in my flexibility, my strength, my ability to keep up with those doing teacher-trainings even though I wasn't.
But here... sheesh, I'm just happy I manage to stop myself from running out of the room screaming for cool air. Also, I find that I close my eyes in relaxing poses and when they remind us that Bikram is 90 minutes of eye-open meditation, I feel lazy. Because, damn, it feels so good to close your eyes and try to escape in the Shavasana before you have to start moving again... but no, this studio's Bikram is truly about forcing you to be present in a *very* *uncomofortable* reality.
For the first time ever in my yoga practice, I often catch myself *just* breathing with a calm mind (usually right before I freak out about how difficult the class is).
I feel like I'm learning more about myself, my honesty with myself about how uncomfortable I actually am in any given moment, and what I'm capable of than I've learned in a very long time.
Also, I'm just so grateful such a challenging practice opened so close to my home. In the locker room today, I chatted with a runner who had done her first Bikram class -- she asked me for confirmation, "I mean, this is harder than a half marathon, right?" I hadn't thought about it on those terms, but when challenged, I had to agree. If you don't put a pace goal on a half, and you just have to finish -- oh, hell yes, a Mountain View Bikram 90 minute yoga session is much harder (**full and fair disclosure, at your edge race pace, I think a half is probably slightly harder because you can slack between poses in the class, but that's not what this woman wanted to discuss**)
In short, I don't know where this will lead, but I fully expect to finish my 10-day self-challenge of Bikram and, given the benefits I've already experienced, I suspect I will be developing a long-term relationship with Bikram Yoga Mountain View.
(Today's pose summary: skipped 2nd triangle, 1st tree, 1st 1/2 lotus, 1st camel -- 48/52 completed. Touched my forehead to the ground in separate leg stretching and sat all the way down in fixed firm.)
Here's a video of how hardcore the owner is (a year ago, 3 years after she won the world yoga championship) to help you understand where some of my awe for this studio comes from:
February 7, 2012
Bikram Challenge: Day 2
Today was much easier, no doubt partially due to the heat acclimatization from yesterday's sweat-stravaganza. Also, the class was much smaller, maybe half the size of yesterday's (less body heat). We probably maxed out around 107F, but most of the class was at 105-6.
The instructor from yesterday just took the class as a participant -- I can see why she was the 2007 World Yoga Champion. Yikes. I had no idea some of the poses could be extended so far.
I am happy to state that I attempted at least one of all of the 26 postures and made it through both of most of them.
I fell out of one of the standing bow-pulling poses and decided it was a good time to take a standing break. I also opted out of the second tree pose for a kneeling break. On the floor, I rested instead of doing (i) the 2nd half lotus pose (man, that pose is *very* physically demanding); and (ii) the first bow-pulling pose. Also, I only did 5 seconds of the first camel with just the slightest backward lean with my hands on my lower back. I managed the entire second camel, but again, only with the slightest backward lean with my hands on my lower back.
So, of the 52 poses, I was able to get through 47. Yesterday, I probably only made it through 40 or so. I'd be thrilled to be able to complete the entire series by the end of this 10-day series.
This morning, I wasn't too sore, but now I can feel it. I suspect tomorrow's class will be a different challenge with the added obstacle of soreness.
In an interesting alignment of my life with pop culture, I listened to William Broad's interview on Fresh Air about his new book The Science of Yoga.
I was pleased to learn that Bikram does not include the poses he found to be the most dangerous: inversions that place the neck under extreme pressure in unnatural bends such as plow or shoulder stand (which many of my prior yogic studies have incorporated in their finishing series).
I was also amused to learn that most forms of yoga slow the body down and, if all other variables remain unchanged, will result in weight gain, not weight loss. I can confirm that during class, Bikram does not slow the body down. I took my pulse several times during today's class and it was right where it is when I'm in the middle of a run.
Finally, I have to say that Bikram definitely results in one type of awareness that I don't get from other yoga studies. Staring at your body in a mirror while contorting yourself, sweating heavily, and wearing very little clothing for 90 minutes means that there's no way to kid yourself about your current state of fitness. You can see how much you are struggling. You can see the actual form of your body in the various poses. This is a nice dovetail with my 2012 goal to get down to racing weight. I can visually see that some of these poses are more difficult than they could be, partially because I have excess mass getting in the way.
Today was much easier, no doubt partially due to the heat acclimatization from yesterday's sweat-stravaganza. Also, the class was much smaller, maybe half the size of yesterday's (less body heat). We probably maxed out around 107F, but most of the class was at 105-6.
The instructor from yesterday just took the class as a participant -- I can see why she was the 2007 World Yoga Champion. Yikes. I had no idea some of the poses could be extended so far.
I am happy to state that I attempted at least one of all of the 26 postures and made it through both of most of them.
I fell out of one of the standing bow-pulling poses and decided it was a good time to take a standing break. I also opted out of the second tree pose for a kneeling break. On the floor, I rested instead of doing (i) the 2nd half lotus pose (man, that pose is *very* physically demanding); and (ii) the first bow-pulling pose. Also, I only did 5 seconds of the first camel with just the slightest backward lean with my hands on my lower back. I managed the entire second camel, but again, only with the slightest backward lean with my hands on my lower back.
So, of the 52 poses, I was able to get through 47. Yesterday, I probably only made it through 40 or so. I'd be thrilled to be able to complete the entire series by the end of this 10-day series.
This morning, I wasn't too sore, but now I can feel it. I suspect tomorrow's class will be a different challenge with the added obstacle of soreness.
In an interesting alignment of my life with pop culture, I listened to William Broad's interview on Fresh Air about his new book The Science of Yoga.
I was pleased to learn that Bikram does not include the poses he found to be the most dangerous: inversions that place the neck under extreme pressure in unnatural bends such as plow or shoulder stand (which many of my prior yogic studies have incorporated in their finishing series).
I was also amused to learn that most forms of yoga slow the body down and, if all other variables remain unchanged, will result in weight gain, not weight loss. I can confirm that during class, Bikram does not slow the body down. I took my pulse several times during today's class and it was right where it is when I'm in the middle of a run.
Finally, I have to say that Bikram definitely results in one type of awareness that I don't get from other yoga studies. Staring at your body in a mirror while contorting yourself, sweating heavily, and wearing very little clothing for 90 minutes means that there's no way to kid yourself about your current state of fitness. You can see how much you are struggling. You can see the actual form of your body in the various poses. This is a nice dovetail with my 2012 goal to get down to racing weight. I can visually see that some of these poses are more difficult than they could be, partially because I have excess mass getting in the way.
10-day Bikram Challenge: Day 1
I've done Bikram in the past and have always enjoyed it. It's a demanding workout and yet, you get the extra benefits of yoga (a breathing practice, some relaxation at the end, stretching). For some reason, I've been struggling with returning to my yoga practice, so when I saw that a new local Bikram studio had opened, I figured the answer was clear.
I'm amused at how different Bikram is from other forms of yoga. The copyright, the trademark, the owner control, the strict adherence to the timeline of 26 poses at a specific heat and humidity, the lawsuits against former instructors who try to go off on their own and modify the style, and, of course, the World Yoga Championship. I've read and heard many practitioners of more traditional yoga styles complain and speak poorly of Bikram.
But, for me, I have nothing bad to say -- it was a great gateway into yoga when I started my practice. It was much more like the sports I'd grown up with than traditional yoga, because the physical demands and the discipline are front and center as opposed to spirituality. Since I'm having such a hard time motivating to get back to a regular more traditional yoga practice, I figured if Bikram worked once, perhaps it would work again.
So, Yesterday, I started a 10-day Bikram Challenge. The deal I made with myself is that I have to show up for a class every day for 10 days.
Wow.
I've never gone to a Bikram studio this hardcore. The owner was the 2007 World Yoga Champion. She ran an amazing class yesterday and managed to motivate me to stay for the entire 90 minutes despite needing to kneel or lie down to opt out of at least 15% of the poses. The packed room often hit 108F. No one left. We all struggled through as best we could.
I now know why Bikram refers to his studios as "torture chambers."
I'm excited about this challenge. Yesterday's class showed me that I definitely haven't been pushing myself as much as I could physically. I pride myself on not getting injured and listening to my body. What yesterday's class showed me is that I definitely err far on the side of comfort when it comes to athletics. Showing up to struggle for 90 minutes on a daily basis is going to be great for me: physically, mentally, and spiritually.
Today, I'm a bit sore, but ready to return.
I've done Bikram in the past and have always enjoyed it. It's a demanding workout and yet, you get the extra benefits of yoga (a breathing practice, some relaxation at the end, stretching). For some reason, I've been struggling with returning to my yoga practice, so when I saw that a new local Bikram studio had opened, I figured the answer was clear.
I'm amused at how different Bikram is from other forms of yoga. The copyright, the trademark, the owner control, the strict adherence to the timeline of 26 poses at a specific heat and humidity, the lawsuits against former instructors who try to go off on their own and modify the style, and, of course, the World Yoga Championship. I've read and heard many practitioners of more traditional yoga styles complain and speak poorly of Bikram.
But, for me, I have nothing bad to say -- it was a great gateway into yoga when I started my practice. It was much more like the sports I'd grown up with than traditional yoga, because the physical demands and the discipline are front and center as opposed to spirituality. Since I'm having such a hard time motivating to get back to a regular more traditional yoga practice, I figured if Bikram worked once, perhaps it would work again.
So, Yesterday, I started a 10-day Bikram Challenge. The deal I made with myself is that I have to show up for a class every day for 10 days.
Wow.
I've never gone to a Bikram studio this hardcore. The owner was the 2007 World Yoga Champion. She ran an amazing class yesterday and managed to motivate me to stay for the entire 90 minutes despite needing to kneel or lie down to opt out of at least 15% of the poses. The packed room often hit 108F. No one left. We all struggled through as best we could.
I now know why Bikram refers to his studios as "torture chambers."
I'm excited about this challenge. Yesterday's class showed me that I definitely haven't been pushing myself as much as I could physically. I pride myself on not getting injured and listening to my body. What yesterday's class showed me is that I definitely err far on the side of comfort when it comes to athletics. Showing up to struggle for 90 minutes on a daily basis is going to be great for me: physically, mentally, and spiritually.
Today, I'm a bit sore, but ready to return.
February 5, 2012
Failed: Fast, Early, Better (Working on often)
E and I were discussing the roots of the "Fail early, Fail often, Fail better, Fail fast" meme of Silicon Valley tonight.
I suggested that it must have started with Beckett:
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. -- Westward Ho, 1983.
E suggested it was a riff on the storied political phrase:
Vote Early, Vote Often.
The truth is likely somewhere in between. E had no idea of the Beckett quote, and my only exposure to the political phrase was thanks to Gangs of New York.
We are a good sample for the edges of Silicon Valley (him, on the super-techy-bleeding-edge side, me on the blend of semi-related fields with tech side).
The fact that a combination of both of our suggested sources is necessary to get to the full meme hints at how we much we need seemingly unrelated intellectual neighbors to get to the heart of the mash-up hack-it 'til it works culture of Silicon Valley.
But, to bring it back to the completely personal level, I just want to talk about my failure today. I failed early and fast. I was supposed to run the Kaiser Half Marathon. My training hadn't been fabulous, but last weekend's 10-miler with several long mile-plus track intervals in the middle convinced me that a 2-hour-ish half marathon was not going to be a problem today.
It started well (aka fast). 8:55 for the first mile. 8:44 pace for the second (this felt too aggressive, so I hit the lap button at 1.8 and backed off, telling running buddy H that I'd see her speedy self at the finish and letting my breath come back to me).
Unfortunately, once I slowed, I realized I needed a restroom, stat. Typically, this is something race organizers have planned for. But not this race. I'll spare you the details, but after 15 minutes of hoping the next corner would have an aid station with bathrooms, I had to re-route my course. Once that was done, I realized I needed to get to the finish in an unreasonable amount of time to keep my other social obligations for the day.
So, I accepted failure somewhere around 4.6 miles in (early). I ducked under the tape and jumped into the 5K lane. My 4+ mile loop wasn't included in their course, so I had about 2 miles to go to hit the 3.1 goal. They were all walkers. Mainly families with children, either in strollers or toddling along. Some families pushing elders in wheelchairs. It was a side of the running/walking community I've never interacted with and I couldn't believe how awesomely supportive they all were of one another (yelling back and forth as they zigged and zagged between running and jogging). Also, many of them cheered for me as I passed them in my constant run. In particular, parents encouraged their children to try to keep up with me for a couple of minutes.
I felt so lucky to experience such a gorgeous day in Golden Gate park with such a supportive group of people. Middle of the pack runners who don't fail never see this.
I ran those short few miles at approximately my goal half marathon pace and crossed the 5K finish line with the *slowest* officially recorded 5K I've *ever* completed (I was surprised to see that they didn't count my first loop on the electronic chip and just tallied my start and finish times for a 5K time).
In short, I totally failed. And it felt awesome.
Plus, I was able to cheer all half marathon finishers for the first 2h15m. Watching the winners and early finishers struggle was inspirational. The pure physicality of the men running 1h07m half marathons and the women running 1h18m was impressive. Come to think of it, the reason I couldn't tear myself away 'til 2h15 is that *everyone* was inspirational, from the age group leaders to the eldest healthy folks with their altered gaits but triumphant "I am still a finisher" arms held high to the skinny young men and women kicking past 5 competitors on the last 100 uphill yards -- all of it, was inspirational beyond belief.
So yeah. I failed to reach my goal today. But in allowing myself to do so, I learned more about the running community (particularly the bay area running culture and its various historic races and running clubs) than I'd over known.
And, truly, my body made it very clear it didn't want to do the half today, so while I could have forced it, if I had, I wouldn't have failed early or fast (you know, the graceful kind of failure, when, as soon as it's unavoidable, you admit things aren't going in the right direction and you do something else).
Had I not listened to my body, I might not have failed at all. I likely would have just finished slowly, which means I surely couldn't have failed often (as today is only the Second time I've opted to DNF, and I'm led to believe often requires at least 2 or more.)
And, most importantly, I *definitely* wouldn't have failed better.
I am so grateful for my experience today. The weather was perfect. 4 miles on the half course with dedicated runners opened up a great workout for me. 2+ closing out on the 5K course showed me parts of the running community that made me feel proud and grateful, and watching the finishers was irreplaceable.
Meeting up with H at the end (congrats to her on the 1:48!) and walking back to her car for 2.5+ miles while chatting and catching up reminded me that sometimes, regardless of the failed goals, showing up is all that matters for true success. So, I failed on some metrics. If only every one of my failures could come alongside lessons and alternate successes like these (all beneath perfect weather while walking through one of the most beautiful parks in the world)...
To more failure! Onward!
E and I were discussing the roots of the "Fail early, Fail often, Fail better, Fail fast" meme of Silicon Valley tonight.
I suggested that it must have started with Beckett:
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. -- Westward Ho, 1983.
E suggested it was a riff on the storied political phrase:
Vote Early, Vote Often.
The truth is likely somewhere in between. E had no idea of the Beckett quote, and my only exposure to the political phrase was thanks to Gangs of New York.
We are a good sample for the edges of Silicon Valley (him, on the super-techy-bleeding-edge side, me on the blend of semi-related fields with tech side).
The fact that a combination of both of our suggested sources is necessary to get to the full meme hints at how we much we need seemingly unrelated intellectual neighbors to get to the heart of the mash-up hack-it 'til it works culture of Silicon Valley.
But, to bring it back to the completely personal level, I just want to talk about my failure today. I failed early and fast. I was supposed to run the Kaiser Half Marathon. My training hadn't been fabulous, but last weekend's 10-miler with several long mile-plus track intervals in the middle convinced me that a 2-hour-ish half marathon was not going to be a problem today.
It started well (aka fast). 8:55 for the first mile. 8:44 pace for the second (this felt too aggressive, so I hit the lap button at 1.8 and backed off, telling running buddy H that I'd see her speedy self at the finish and letting my breath come back to me).
Unfortunately, once I slowed, I realized I needed a restroom, stat. Typically, this is something race organizers have planned for. But not this race. I'll spare you the details, but after 15 minutes of hoping the next corner would have an aid station with bathrooms, I had to re-route my course. Once that was done, I realized I needed to get to the finish in an unreasonable amount of time to keep my other social obligations for the day.
So, I accepted failure somewhere around 4.6 miles in (early). I ducked under the tape and jumped into the 5K lane. My 4+ mile loop wasn't included in their course, so I had about 2 miles to go to hit the 3.1 goal. They were all walkers. Mainly families with children, either in strollers or toddling along. Some families pushing elders in wheelchairs. It was a side of the running/walking community I've never interacted with and I couldn't believe how awesomely supportive they all were of one another (yelling back and forth as they zigged and zagged between running and jogging). Also, many of them cheered for me as I passed them in my constant run. In particular, parents encouraged their children to try to keep up with me for a couple of minutes.
I felt so lucky to experience such a gorgeous day in Golden Gate park with such a supportive group of people. Middle of the pack runners who don't fail never see this.
I ran those short few miles at approximately my goal half marathon pace and crossed the 5K finish line with the *slowest* officially recorded 5K I've *ever* completed (I was surprised to see that they didn't count my first loop on the electronic chip and just tallied my start and finish times for a 5K time).
In short, I totally failed. And it felt awesome.
Plus, I was able to cheer all half marathon finishers for the first 2h15m. Watching the winners and early finishers struggle was inspirational. The pure physicality of the men running 1h07m half marathons and the women running 1h18m was impressive. Come to think of it, the reason I couldn't tear myself away 'til 2h15 is that *everyone* was inspirational, from the age group leaders to the eldest healthy folks with their altered gaits but triumphant "I am still a finisher" arms held high to the skinny young men and women kicking past 5 competitors on the last 100 uphill yards -- all of it, was inspirational beyond belief.
So yeah. I failed to reach my goal today. But in allowing myself to do so, I learned more about the running community (particularly the bay area running culture and its various historic races and running clubs) than I'd over known.
And, truly, my body made it very clear it didn't want to do the half today, so while I could have forced it, if I had, I wouldn't have failed early or fast (you know, the graceful kind of failure, when, as soon as it's unavoidable, you admit things aren't going in the right direction and you do something else).
Had I not listened to my body, I might not have failed at all. I likely would have just finished slowly, which means I surely couldn't have failed often (as today is only the Second time I've opted to DNF, and I'm led to believe often requires at least 2 or more.)
And, most importantly, I *definitely* wouldn't have failed better.
I am so grateful for my experience today. The weather was perfect. 4 miles on the half course with dedicated runners opened up a great workout for me. 2+ closing out on the 5K course showed me parts of the running community that made me feel proud and grateful, and watching the finishers was irreplaceable.
Meeting up with H at the end (congrats to her on the 1:48!) and walking back to her car for 2.5+ miles while chatting and catching up reminded me that sometimes, regardless of the failed goals, showing up is all that matters for true success. So, I failed on some metrics. If only every one of my failures could come alongside lessons and alternate successes like these (all beneath perfect weather while walking through one of the most beautiful parks in the world)...
To more failure! Onward!
February 3, 2012
February 1, 2012
Permission
After months of limping along by running a hard drive diagnostic post-blue screen (which, for some completely unexplained reason appeared to quell the repeat-blue-screen-loop), today, on the third blue-screen of the day, I succumbed.
My laptop is at Computer Care. I'm working from an Asus EE netbook.
Better than nothing? You bet. Close to my normal set up? Even with Dropbox and USB keys of backups, not even close.
Slow and hard to get work done. Easier to waste time on the internet while things load/process/etc.
Suffice it to say, today's day of no calls and many documents to be edited did not go according to plan. I spent too much time on random internet shit (essentially forgiving myself for the waste) and then...
Healthy night was canceled in favor of Fiesta Del Mar.
See, in my spare time today, while waiting for documents to sync from back-up and being frustrated with technology, between internet ridiculousness, I managed to schedule a couple of contractors to stop by.
Oh joy! I learned our bathroom is even more screwed than we thought (the two different sets of tiles in the shower? Yeah, that's evidence of a prior quick fix where they recognized water damage and decided to hide it.) The remodel will *not* be cheap. And since the master bedroom was destroyed to the point of non-functionality, it's not like we can avoid the expenditure.
Thanks, prior owner guy -- your decision to go completely non-professional DIY and drop a pseudo sub-floor on a patio, plumb it, wall it up, drop tile against the drywall without any mortar and call it a master bathroom definitely increased the purchase price in your favor, too bad for us that since purchase it's been destroyed by the one-two punch of water/steam/fungus damage (no fan or airflow? Why would you need that?), and subterranean termites who had easy access since you just dropped the wooden subfloor against the outside dirt around the house.
The contractor actually admitted feeling sorry for us today, "Normally, I don't take on things this ugly. It never turns out well in the end. There's always something else I discover that's been done with cut corners that's fucked up and needs to be fixed and the homeowners are never happy to learn of it."
Yikes.
Not a great day. But, I gave myself permission to slack. I had a ridiculous todo list. I didn't get through 30% of it. And all due to first world problems. I'm working on being totally okay with what that is.
Which means, if I am honest with myself, overall, educational about things I might have preferred to ignore, but not really a bad day.
After months of limping along by running a hard drive diagnostic post-blue screen (which, for some completely unexplained reason appeared to quell the repeat-blue-screen-loop), today, on the third blue-screen of the day, I succumbed.
My laptop is at Computer Care. I'm working from an Asus EE netbook.
Better than nothing? You bet. Close to my normal set up? Even with Dropbox and USB keys of backups, not even close.
Slow and hard to get work done. Easier to waste time on the internet while things load/process/etc.
Suffice it to say, today's day of no calls and many documents to be edited did not go according to plan. I spent too much time on random internet shit (essentially forgiving myself for the waste) and then...
Healthy night was canceled in favor of Fiesta Del Mar.
See, in my spare time today, while waiting for documents to sync from back-up and being frustrated with technology, between internet ridiculousness, I managed to schedule a couple of contractors to stop by.
Oh joy! I learned our bathroom is even more screwed than we thought (the two different sets of tiles in the shower? Yeah, that's evidence of a prior quick fix where they recognized water damage and decided to hide it.) The remodel will *not* be cheap. And since the master bedroom was destroyed to the point of non-functionality, it's not like we can avoid the expenditure.
Thanks, prior owner guy -- your decision to go completely non-professional DIY and drop a pseudo sub-floor on a patio, plumb it, wall it up, drop tile against the drywall without any mortar and call it a master bathroom definitely increased the purchase price in your favor, too bad for us that since purchase it's been destroyed by the one-two punch of water/steam/fungus damage (no fan or airflow? Why would you need that?), and subterranean termites who had easy access since you just dropped the wooden subfloor against the outside dirt around the house.
The contractor actually admitted feeling sorry for us today, "Normally, I don't take on things this ugly. It never turns out well in the end. There's always something else I discover that's been done with cut corners that's fucked up and needs to be fixed and the homeowners are never happy to learn of it."
Yikes.
Not a great day. But, I gave myself permission to slack. I had a ridiculous todo list. I didn't get through 30% of it. And all due to first world problems. I'm working on being totally okay with what that is.
Which means, if I am honest with myself, overall, educational about things I might have preferred to ignore, but not really a bad day.
January 31, 2012
So Happy
Woot! I started Mandarin Lessons in order to hit one of my goals for 2012.
My teacher is a very close friend. We share a love of language (in fairness, I may think of myself as a language lover, but I've got nothing on G--she easily puts in 20 hours per week on her linguistic hobbies).
Because we share the linguist passion, each lesson involves us gleefully discussing and comparing other languages, and pronunciation, and grammar, and general word nerdery between the Mandarin I'm learning and the languages either or both of us have learned in the past or actually speak to some level of competency.
Tonight, I learned that I'm learning the old-school version of Chinese characters. The kind used by Taiwan and many immigrants to California. The kind that will be the most useful to me, I'm told. I inherently trust G, so if that's what she thinks I should learn, that's what I will learn.
It doesn't hurt that I've invited an additional person (L) to my lessons (Lessons? Party nights? How could you tell?). L is a Singaporean native, a very disciplined individual, and she agrees that it's easier to learn the classic complicated characters first, followed by the simplified, modern characters. So, yeah, Complex Characters? That's what I'll be learning. I'm led to believe they have a name. Perhaps I'll learn it and refer to them accordingly at some point in the future. For now, I'm swimming through the 4 tones and all of the pinyin. Yikes! That's enough!
When L learned that I was doing Mandarin lessons with G, it quickly became apparent that she'd be great fun as an addition. She learned Mandarin (and Hokkien) as a child, natively in Singapore, but since she learned by osmosis and moved to Canada at age 10(ish), she doesn't know the formal rules as well as G, who is English-first, American-University-Chinese-Degree-trained, worked in Taiwan for two separate jobs, and now is a professional technical translator from Chinese to English.
In short, with the combination of the two of them (and G's selected curriculum of ChinesePod for this week's lesson), I couldn't help but feel that I have the best self-made Chinese study program, EVER!!!
G showed up at my house and quizzed me on a bunch of Pinyin (I'd say I got about 85% correct. Much better than last week, but still, nowhere close to what I need.)
Then, L showed up, so we did last week's vocab and memorized conversation + variants, then we reviewed brush strokes and my writing homework (which, amusingly, I'd spent quite some time practicing and memorizing how to do completely backwards by assuming the numbered points on the diagrams drawn by G were the finishing points of the strokes instead of the starting points) and finally we moved to a new lesson of vocab, memorized convo for next week and additional characters to learn how to write.
After the lesson, we cooked dinner. L & G conversed in easy Mandarin while I listened (my favorite way to learn a language) and made pork belly, onion, butternut squash stew. L asked G technical linguistic questions. G asked L native speaker and cultural distinction questions. I was able to prepare delicious simple food to feed people I care about while learning a new language from people who really care about the linguistic nuances and were willing to discuss them at length in front of me.
I was, basically, in heaven.
Thank goodness the homemade garden-grown butternut squash, onion, pork-belly stew was a hit. The Holiday Cheese collection as a post-meal treat didn't earn me any enemies either.
Good Times!
Woot! I started Mandarin Lessons in order to hit one of my goals for 2012.
My teacher is a very close friend. We share a love of language (in fairness, I may think of myself as a language lover, but I've got nothing on G--she easily puts in 20 hours per week on her linguistic hobbies).
Because we share the linguist passion, each lesson involves us gleefully discussing and comparing other languages, and pronunciation, and grammar, and general word nerdery between the Mandarin I'm learning and the languages either or both of us have learned in the past or actually speak to some level of competency.
Tonight, I learned that I'm learning the old-school version of Chinese characters. The kind used by Taiwan and many immigrants to California. The kind that will be the most useful to me, I'm told. I inherently trust G, so if that's what she thinks I should learn, that's what I will learn.
It doesn't hurt that I've invited an additional person (L) to my lessons (Lessons? Party nights? How could you tell?). L is a Singaporean native, a very disciplined individual, and she agrees that it's easier to learn the classic complicated characters first, followed by the simplified, modern characters. So, yeah, Complex Characters? That's what I'll be learning. I'm led to believe they have a name. Perhaps I'll learn it and refer to them accordingly at some point in the future. For now, I'm swimming through the 4 tones and all of the pinyin. Yikes! That's enough!
When L learned that I was doing Mandarin lessons with G, it quickly became apparent that she'd be great fun as an addition. She learned Mandarin (and Hokkien) as a child, natively in Singapore, but since she learned by osmosis and moved to Canada at age 10(ish), she doesn't know the formal rules as well as G, who is English-first, American-University-Chinese-Degree-trained, worked in Taiwan for two separate jobs, and now is a professional technical translator from Chinese to English.
In short, with the combination of the two of them (and G's selected curriculum of ChinesePod for this week's lesson), I couldn't help but feel that I have the best self-made Chinese study program, EVER!!!
G showed up at my house and quizzed me on a bunch of Pinyin (I'd say I got about 85% correct. Much better than last week, but still, nowhere close to what I need.)
Then, L showed up, so we did last week's vocab and memorized conversation + variants, then we reviewed brush strokes and my writing homework (which, amusingly, I'd spent quite some time practicing and memorizing how to do completely backwards by assuming the numbered points on the diagrams drawn by G were the finishing points of the strokes instead of the starting points) and finally we moved to a new lesson of vocab, memorized convo for next week and additional characters to learn how to write.
After the lesson, we cooked dinner. L & G conversed in easy Mandarin while I listened (my favorite way to learn a language) and made pork belly, onion, butternut squash stew. L asked G technical linguistic questions. G asked L native speaker and cultural distinction questions. I was able to prepare delicious simple food to feed people I care about while learning a new language from people who really care about the linguistic nuances and were willing to discuss them at length in front of me.
I was, basically, in heaven.
Thank goodness the homemade garden-grown butternut squash, onion, pork-belly stew was a hit. The Holiday Cheese collection as a post-meal treat didn't earn me any enemies either.
Good Times!
January 24, 2012
2012 Goals
1. 9,000 pages read. This is a direct response to the ridiculousness that my 30 book goal imposed. Due to the shuffling, I know I have a minimum of 2 huge books on tap, REAMDE (at 1044) and 1Q84 (at 925).
2. Chinese language study. My general goal is to do one in-person private lesson per week with a good friend of mine. Bonus -- she's ridiculously fluent and a linguist and happy to dork out with me about pronunciation, grammar, and comparisons to other languages. Tonight's lesson was one of the more fun nights I've had in a long time. We used to do Spanish night, which was appreciated. But Chinese night is a completely different level of enjoyment for me. I feel so blessed to know someone who enjoys the same things as me and wants to share them with me. Yay!
3. Race Weight. So, I read Racing Weight and confirmed what I already suspected. If I want to PR in the half or the full marathon, I really need to get down to a weight that means I'm not carrying around a bunch of body fat that's not necessary. Painful to admit, but here's to being American. So this year, I have a goal to be at my racing weight by the time I show up for my second marathon.
4. 2 Marathons. I've already committed to what will no doubt be an awesome experience at the Equinox Marathon. Additionally, once I've recovered from that one, I'll fit in a late fall race when and where makes sense.
5. 52 Healthy Days with E. Historically, I've happily congratulated myself and given myself credit for any one of the healthy habits of a yoga session or a vegetarian meal or an alcohol free night (well, technically, I count it as a day, as I rarely drink before night, but you know what I mean). This year, E and I agreed, we want to commit to 52 days that are vegetarian, alcohol free, and include a joint yoga session (typically before bed). The interesting thing on this one is that given my recent crazy life, I'm already *way* behind schedule -- while there have been a few yoga sessions, many vegetarian days, and a few 24-hour+ stints of no alcohol, thus far, they've only met in the holy trifecta of healthiness on one occasion in 2012. I predict that this is the goal that will result in the most scrambling at the end of the year (e.g. see this year's books scrambling).
To 2012!
1. 9,000 pages read. This is a direct response to the ridiculousness that my 30 book goal imposed. Due to the shuffling, I know I have a minimum of 2 huge books on tap, REAMDE (at 1044) and 1Q84 (at 925).
2. Chinese language study. My general goal is to do one in-person private lesson per week with a good friend of mine. Bonus -- she's ridiculously fluent and a linguist and happy to dork out with me about pronunciation, grammar, and comparisons to other languages. Tonight's lesson was one of the more fun nights I've had in a long time. We used to do Spanish night, which was appreciated. But Chinese night is a completely different level of enjoyment for me. I feel so blessed to know someone who enjoys the same things as me and wants to share them with me. Yay!
3. Race Weight. So, I read Racing Weight and confirmed what I already suspected. If I want to PR in the half or the full marathon, I really need to get down to a weight that means I'm not carrying around a bunch of body fat that's not necessary. Painful to admit, but here's to being American. So this year, I have a goal to be at my racing weight by the time I show up for my second marathon.
4. 2 Marathons. I've already committed to what will no doubt be an awesome experience at the Equinox Marathon. Additionally, once I've recovered from that one, I'll fit in a late fall race when and where makes sense.
5. 52 Healthy Days with E. Historically, I've happily congratulated myself and given myself credit for any one of the healthy habits of a yoga session or a vegetarian meal or an alcohol free night (well, technically, I count it as a day, as I rarely drink before night, but you know what I mean). This year, E and I agreed, we want to commit to 52 days that are vegetarian, alcohol free, and include a joint yoga session (typically before bed). The interesting thing on this one is that given my recent crazy life, I'm already *way* behind schedule -- while there have been a few yoga sessions, many vegetarian days, and a few 24-hour+ stints of no alcohol, thus far, they've only met in the holy trifecta of healthiness on one occasion in 2012. I predict that this is the goal that will result in the most scrambling at the end of the year (e.g. see this year's books scrambling).
To 2012!
January 23, 2012
Mania
At times like these, I can see why bi-polar disorder "works" in an odd way.
Since November 15th, I've only had 19 dinners in my hometown without guests (almost all with E, which is awesome). In lieu of the 50 other peaceful dinners I could have had in my hometown, I've caught up with countless friends and family, and done some very rewarding things for my life and business.
Several of these alternate dinners were simply changed by the blessing of people I care about coming to us, either to stay in the guest bedroom or to share a meal.
But, there's also been much motion on my part: driving, flying, and physically making the effort to be elsewhere for the privilege of connecting with people I don't often see and/or doing things in person that make sense.
This weekend was a perfect example of the high-effort life I've been sustaining for the last 69 days.
Saturday AM, after a night of late work, I woke to pack, drive to Oakland, and run around Lake Merritt and Piedmont with a friend. We ate a delicious brunch, and then I drove to the Sacramento area to visit brother, niece, and mom.
First, I was delivering brother's new computer, thanks to E and Metamatt. He was so excited, it was great to see. We had a delicious sushi dinner to celebrate my niece's birthday. Finally, I arrived at my mom's where I caught up with my mom and D and then cleaned up work files 'til 2 AM.
Sunday, I was woken at 6:30 AM by my mom and D yelling at their dog. It's their house, and completely reasonable for them to continue in their normal daily existence. But it resulted in a shorter night of sleep than the already truncated one I'd expected.
I tried to snooze 'til 7:30 and then caffeinated myself with a latte so I could join my mom for her first 5K.
Like most of what I've done these last 69 days, I'm so glad I made the effort to be there and run with her. It was so special to see her realize she is capable of finishing 3.1 miles at a reasonably brisk pace. Many women of her generation just don't think of themselves as athletic or physically capable of things that "athletic people" do. It is wonderful to watch her perception of herself change, and inspiring to be reminded that we are free to change and grow, even in retirement (so why not now?).
I followed this one up with another brunch and great conversation with my step-dad, a drive to Oakland to join friends and E at an Oyster-pocalypse party (mmmm.... oysters), and the a drive home.
Every single event I fit in the 48 hours was fun and rewarding and I'm very glad I did them all.
But, after 69 days full of 48-72 hour stints like this one, I am excited about the consecutive 12 nights at home on my calendar starting tonight.
We can elevate ourselves to a ridiculously high level of physical and mental activity and interaction with others. I definitely do so at times like the holidays, birthdays, special events, with visitors who make the effort, or when there's an unexpected opportunity to catch up with long lost friends or family.
I'm always pleased I amplified my energy output for the benefits of these opportunities.
But, I'm also realistic that this style of living comes at a cost of the downtime and the easy slow existence of breathing, not rushing, and being present with myself in a regular, daily life.
I definitely need to force myself to take some downtime. I suspect, if I were bi-polar, this would be one of those periods when my brain chemistry switched from mania to depression.
I am so thankful not to have such extreme swings as to be bi-polar, but I'm also mindful that even the super-powered manic folks eventually crash. If they can't sustain it, I certainly can't.
So, I am excited to make a commitment to rest and rejuvenation before I ramp up again for my trip to Cambodia in February.
At times like these, I can see why bi-polar disorder "works" in an odd way.
Since November 15th, I've only had 19 dinners in my hometown without guests (almost all with E, which is awesome). In lieu of the 50 other peaceful dinners I could have had in my hometown, I've caught up with countless friends and family, and done some very rewarding things for my life and business.
Several of these alternate dinners were simply changed by the blessing of people I care about coming to us, either to stay in the guest bedroom or to share a meal.
But, there's also been much motion on my part: driving, flying, and physically making the effort to be elsewhere for the privilege of connecting with people I don't often see and/or doing things in person that make sense.
This weekend was a perfect example of the high-effort life I've been sustaining for the last 69 days.
Saturday AM, after a night of late work, I woke to pack, drive to Oakland, and run around Lake Merritt and Piedmont with a friend. We ate a delicious brunch, and then I drove to the Sacramento area to visit brother, niece, and mom.
First, I was delivering brother's new computer, thanks to E and Metamatt. He was so excited, it was great to see. We had a delicious sushi dinner to celebrate my niece's birthday. Finally, I arrived at my mom's where I caught up with my mom and D and then cleaned up work files 'til 2 AM.
Sunday, I was woken at 6:30 AM by my mom and D yelling at their dog. It's their house, and completely reasonable for them to continue in their normal daily existence. But it resulted in a shorter night of sleep than the already truncated one I'd expected.
I tried to snooze 'til 7:30 and then caffeinated myself with a latte so I could join my mom for her first 5K.
Like most of what I've done these last 69 days, I'm so glad I made the effort to be there and run with her. It was so special to see her realize she is capable of finishing 3.1 miles at a reasonably brisk pace. Many women of her generation just don't think of themselves as athletic or physically capable of things that "athletic people" do. It is wonderful to watch her perception of herself change, and inspiring to be reminded that we are free to change and grow, even in retirement (so why not now?).
I followed this one up with another brunch and great conversation with my step-dad, a drive to Oakland to join friends and E at an Oyster-pocalypse party (mmmm.... oysters), and the a drive home.
Every single event I fit in the 48 hours was fun and rewarding and I'm very glad I did them all.
But, after 69 days full of 48-72 hour stints like this one, I am excited about the consecutive 12 nights at home on my calendar starting tonight.
We can elevate ourselves to a ridiculously high level of physical and mental activity and interaction with others. I definitely do so at times like the holidays, birthdays, special events, with visitors who make the effort, or when there's an unexpected opportunity to catch up with long lost friends or family.
I'm always pleased I amplified my energy output for the benefits of these opportunities.
But, I'm also realistic that this style of living comes at a cost of the downtime and the easy slow existence of breathing, not rushing, and being present with myself in a regular, daily life.
I definitely need to force myself to take some downtime. I suspect, if I were bi-polar, this would be one of those periods when my brain chemistry switched from mania to depression.
I am so thankful not to have such extreme swings as to be bi-polar, but I'm also mindful that even the super-powered manic folks eventually crash. If they can't sustain it, I certainly can't.
So, I am excited to make a commitment to rest and rejuvenation before I ramp up again for my trip to Cambodia in February.
January 10, 2012
What We Want To Hear
You know those terrible conversations where one person is hurt? And they are desperately trying to explain to the other person that they are hurt in connection with something that other person did?
Those conversations almost never go according to plan, right?
They usually spiral into one person or the other (or both) trying to blame the other and neither person expressing enough empathy or taking appropriate ownership of their role in the situation.
I'm human, and I've messed this stuff up and gotten it just as horrifically wrong as the next person.
However, I've recently counseled a few friends through some conflicts, and it's so much easier to see a way forward when you aren't in the middle. So here's what I could see from the outside:
As a general rule, if someone is hurt in connection with your actions, they usually want a few very simple things:
1. They want you to listen to what they are saying while they are venting and expressing their frustration, anger, sadness, disappointment and hurt.
**This is the hardest step. When someone is hurt they often lash out or resort to passive aggressive miscommunication. If they are direct, they are often too direct, saying things that are hurtful and not necessary or related to their pain. In my experience, the more often someone trusts that they are going to have their needs met by sharing their pain the more pleasant they are in the communication of their needs. If you are committed to helping heal the conflict, you have to be the bigger person here, and just listen. This is hard.
2. When they are done venting, they want you to put yourself in their shoes, and say, "Yes, I can see how if I were you, what I did would suck."
**Okay, maybe this is actually the hardest step. Keeping quiet and really listening when someone is saying difficult things about you (#1) is hard, but then putting aside your pain to address theirs from their point of view is even harder.
3. They want you to say, "I definitely could have done better. In fact, I really should have done better. Perhaps I could have done X. Would that have been preferable?"
**This part is usually not so tough so long as you sincerely committed to #1 and #2. In fact, if you can get here and be creative, you are well on your way to smoothing things over. Ideally, their response will be positive and their feedback will help you understand how to avoid similar conflicts in the future.
4. Finally, they want you to say, "I feel terrible that you are hurt. I want to make you feel better. I think I can try to you feel better by doing X, right now, and doing my best to do Z, in the future. Would that work?"
**It is important to note the acknowledgement of how bad you feel and the desire to make it better. This is a component of emotional conflict resolution that is often ignored. It is not enough to say you are sorry, in most cases. Sorry is an empty word without some showing of vulnerability and an effort and commitment to avoid repeating the pattern that caused the pain.
Note, nothing they want is about you.
They don't want to know why you did what you did. They don't want to know why you think they are overreacting or how you think they are being unfair. They *really* don't want to know anything about what they've done that might be cause for pain on your part.
Is that fair?
No.
In fact, it is likely that in addition to having completely reasonable complaints you'd like to see addressed at the same time as theirs, you will also be hurt simply by listening to them in #1 and possibly by their responses to your efforts in #2-#4.
However, unless the other person is being abusive or disrespectful (in which case you should stand up for yourself and point it out), I promise you, the fastest way to a solution and smoothing over of a conflict is to swallow your hurt and focus solely on theirs. You can raise your pain *after* theirs has been properly addressed.
(P.S. -- why do I feel like this post is going to come back and bite me in the butt?)
You know those terrible conversations where one person is hurt? And they are desperately trying to explain to the other person that they are hurt in connection with something that other person did?
Those conversations almost never go according to plan, right?
They usually spiral into one person or the other (or both) trying to blame the other and neither person expressing enough empathy or taking appropriate ownership of their role in the situation.
I'm human, and I've messed this stuff up and gotten it just as horrifically wrong as the next person.
However, I've recently counseled a few friends through some conflicts, and it's so much easier to see a way forward when you aren't in the middle. So here's what I could see from the outside:
As a general rule, if someone is hurt in connection with your actions, they usually want a few very simple things:
1. They want you to listen to what they are saying while they are venting and expressing their frustration, anger, sadness, disappointment and hurt.
**This is the hardest step. When someone is hurt they often lash out or resort to passive aggressive miscommunication. If they are direct, they are often too direct, saying things that are hurtful and not necessary or related to their pain. In my experience, the more often someone trusts that they are going to have their needs met by sharing their pain the more pleasant they are in the communication of their needs. If you are committed to helping heal the conflict, you have to be the bigger person here, and just listen. This is hard.
2. When they are done venting, they want you to put yourself in their shoes, and say, "Yes, I can see how if I were you, what I did would suck."
**Okay, maybe this is actually the hardest step. Keeping quiet and really listening when someone is saying difficult things about you (#1) is hard, but then putting aside your pain to address theirs from their point of view is even harder.
3. They want you to say, "I definitely could have done better. In fact, I really should have done better. Perhaps I could have done X. Would that have been preferable?"
**This part is usually not so tough so long as you sincerely committed to #1 and #2. In fact, if you can get here and be creative, you are well on your way to smoothing things over. Ideally, their response will be positive and their feedback will help you understand how to avoid similar conflicts in the future.
4. Finally, they want you to say, "I feel terrible that you are hurt. I want to make you feel better. I think I can try to you feel better by doing X, right now, and doing my best to do Z, in the future. Would that work?"
**It is important to note the acknowledgement of how bad you feel and the desire to make it better. This is a component of emotional conflict resolution that is often ignored. It is not enough to say you are sorry, in most cases. Sorry is an empty word without some showing of vulnerability and an effort and commitment to avoid repeating the pattern that caused the pain.
Note, nothing they want is about you.
They don't want to know why you did what you did. They don't want to know why you think they are overreacting or how you think they are being unfair. They *really* don't want to know anything about what they've done that might be cause for pain on your part.
Is that fair?
No.
In fact, it is likely that in addition to having completely reasonable complaints you'd like to see addressed at the same time as theirs, you will also be hurt simply by listening to them in #1 and possibly by their responses to your efforts in #2-#4.
However, unless the other person is being abusive or disrespectful (in which case you should stand up for yourself and point it out), I promise you, the fastest way to a solution and smoothing over of a conflict is to swallow your hurt and focus solely on theirs. You can raise your pain *after* theirs has been properly addressed.
(P.S. -- why do I feel like this post is going to come back and bite me in the butt?)
January 8, 2012
Skip Barber Racing School
Yeah, this happened today.
A huge thanks to our friends D&K who got me the intro to racing class as a birthday gift.
Oh, man.
So fun.
As E, D&K suspected, I'm hooked.
D, however, may not let me drive his lemons car.
Turns out, in an interesting contrast to my professional life, I'm very risk-tolerant on the track.
This resulted in me spinning out to the inside of turn 9 on Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca at the end of my first session.
Sand bags were displaced. Body damage occurred. And I learned that it's amazing how fast a Formula 1 car going full throttle and spinning out with BT in tow will stop when brakes and clutch are applied full force.
When I finally made it back to the pit (embarrassed to keep the rest of the class waiting), one of the instructors pointed me to a new car, and then asked the head instructor and my pace card driver (rather reasonably, in my opinion) "Do you want to move her to a different group?"
My pace car driver said, "No. She should stay with this group. She's fast."
And there you have it. On a race track, I am much less risk averse than anywhere else I've been in a long time.
The rush of driving fast and trying to keep up was awesome. My group was (i) a 35-yr-old U.S. Marshall who has 15 yrs of motorcycle experience and acts as a flag man at Laguna Seca MotoGP races; (ii) a 20-yr-old self-professed street and canyon racer with ridiculous quick-twitch muscle control; and (iii) me.
I did my best to keep up and they kept speeding up. At some point, something had to give and, clearly, it was my lack of high-speed road-racing experience and skill at managing sharp turns at scarily high speeds in a vehicle (albeit a ridiculously stable and forgiving one).
Within 30 seconds of starting I was grinning from ear to ear and whooping with joy. After 20 minutes of driving in one session, my heart was happily beating along at a nice 60% of it's max (yeah, I took my pulse while I waited for the tow-truck. What?), and I was drenched with sweat. The instructors had consistently referred to racing as a "Sport" and I could now completely understand why and agree. I was exhausted from the mental focus, aerobically challenged during the entire session, and now, weird muscles are sore from shifting, braking, and accelerating from the flat L-shaped seat and bracing myself in the car (unlike the larger folks, even with the 5-point restraint and foam they added, I still slid around a little bit and have to prop myself up so I could see and steer and manage the pedals and gears on fast turns).
I haven't had that level of pleasure coupled with in-the-moment focus since collegiate athletics.
So, I suspect I'll be going back.
(Oh, and also, a huge thanks to E for driving to Carmel and back and joining me on an awesome date night stay (complete with ocean-view hot-tub, balcony, and in-room fireplace) at the Highlands Inn with a delicious dinner at Pacific Edge (the sommelier's willingness to let us order Vieux Telegraph 2008 Chateuneuf du Pape by the glass since it was on the tasting menu pairing list despite our lack of tasting menu? Awesome. We have a new value wine to add to the cellar!)
Yeah, this happened today.
A huge thanks to our friends D&K who got me the intro to racing class as a birthday gift.
Oh, man.
So fun.
As E, D&K suspected, I'm hooked.
D, however, may not let me drive his lemons car.
Turns out, in an interesting contrast to my professional life, I'm very risk-tolerant on the track.
This resulted in me spinning out to the inside of turn 9 on Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca at the end of my first session.
Sand bags were displaced. Body damage occurred. And I learned that it's amazing how fast a Formula 1 car going full throttle and spinning out with BT in tow will stop when brakes and clutch are applied full force.
When I finally made it back to the pit (embarrassed to keep the rest of the class waiting), one of the instructors pointed me to a new car, and then asked the head instructor and my pace card driver (rather reasonably, in my opinion) "Do you want to move her to a different group?"
My pace car driver said, "No. She should stay with this group. She's fast."
And there you have it. On a race track, I am much less risk averse than anywhere else I've been in a long time.
The rush of driving fast and trying to keep up was awesome. My group was (i) a 35-yr-old U.S. Marshall who has 15 yrs of motorcycle experience and acts as a flag man at Laguna Seca MotoGP races; (ii) a 20-yr-old self-professed street and canyon racer with ridiculous quick-twitch muscle control; and (iii) me.
I did my best to keep up and they kept speeding up. At some point, something had to give and, clearly, it was my lack of high-speed road-racing experience and skill at managing sharp turns at scarily high speeds in a vehicle (albeit a ridiculously stable and forgiving one).
Within 30 seconds of starting I was grinning from ear to ear and whooping with joy. After 20 minutes of driving in one session, my heart was happily beating along at a nice 60% of it's max (yeah, I took my pulse while I waited for the tow-truck. What?), and I was drenched with sweat. The instructors had consistently referred to racing as a "Sport" and I could now completely understand why and agree. I was exhausted from the mental focus, aerobically challenged during the entire session, and now, weird muscles are sore from shifting, braking, and accelerating from the flat L-shaped seat and bracing myself in the car (unlike the larger folks, even with the 5-point restraint and foam they added, I still slid around a little bit and have to prop myself up so I could see and steer and manage the pedals and gears on fast turns).
I haven't had that level of pleasure coupled with in-the-moment focus since collegiate athletics.
So, I suspect I'll be going back.
(Oh, and also, a huge thanks to E for driving to Carmel and back and joining me on an awesome date night stay (complete with ocean-view hot-tub, balcony, and in-room fireplace) at the Highlands Inn with a delicious dinner at Pacific Edge (the sommelier's willingness to let us order Vieux Telegraph 2008 Chateuneuf du Pape by the glass since it was on the tasting menu pairing list despite our lack of tasting menu? Awesome. We have a new value wine to add to the cellar!)
January 6, 2012
Different, But Good
Today, I had a hectic AM and calls starting at noon, so I stopped at the Mexican restaurant next door to our grocery store for a quick lunch.
I saw that they had tortilla soup, one of my favorites, so I ordered some to go.
I opened the plastic quart and inhaled. Mmm.... a heavenly smell. A hint of lime and cumin, my favorite spice. The top layer was a gorgeous collection of queso fresco chunks, avocado, and tortilla strips.
I dunked the spoon and stirred: smiling with anticipation as I saw fresh-grilled corn kernels, slices of broiled pasilla, cooked onions, and... pinto beans?
Pinto beans?
I tasted it. Absolutely Delicious.
Not a hint of tomatoes, and no chicken. Not at all what I thought I was ordering. But, healthy, vegetarian (yet full of protein), and so yummy.
And just like that, I've found another delicious, filling, vegetarian soup lunch option.
Today, I had a hectic AM and calls starting at noon, so I stopped at the Mexican restaurant next door to our grocery store for a quick lunch.
I saw that they had tortilla soup, one of my favorites, so I ordered some to go.
I opened the plastic quart and inhaled. Mmm.... a heavenly smell. A hint of lime and cumin, my favorite spice. The top layer was a gorgeous collection of queso fresco chunks, avocado, and tortilla strips.
I dunked the spoon and stirred: smiling with anticipation as I saw fresh-grilled corn kernels, slices of broiled pasilla, cooked onions, and... pinto beans?
Pinto beans?
I tasted it. Absolutely Delicious.
Not a hint of tomatoes, and no chicken. Not at all what I thought I was ordering. But, healthy, vegetarian (yet full of protein), and so yummy.
And just like that, I've found another delicious, filling, vegetarian soup lunch option.
January 2, 2012
2011, The Year in Books
I struggled with my books goal this year. The random selection of the yearly goal of 30 pushed me well beyond what I otherwise would have done. As of March 8th, I had read none. Yikes. That may be the longest period of time I've gone without reading a book since I learned to read.
I eeked out 12 by early June. This was around the time when I realized LuLu completely took advantage of me with respect to the Flower Girl Saves the Day book I wrote for my niece in June. Not a good books moment in my life, overall.
Thankfully, I turned it around and hit 20 books by October 3, 2011, which was not on track for the goal. So, I took drastic action and focused on short books for the rest of the year.
I increased the randomness in my life by quite a bit and ripped through books 21-28 in less than a month.
I also cleared 30 books with plenty to spare. Here's the rundown:
So, in the books mirrors life category, we've got 1 on travel, 2 on running, 1 on gardening, and a bunch of navel gazing about life experiences or locations I've never experienced. Seems about right.
As an aside: 13/33 books were written by women (39.4%), a non-trivial increase over the 7-yr average of 58/174 (33.3%). It occurred to me at some point this year that I don't select books on the basis of the gender of the author at all, but, I do fall in love with certain authors and try to read whatever I can get my hands on that they've written. When I realized this, I wondered if I had a bias, in terms of gender, and it appears that I do, although I'm not aware of the actual statistics in terms of number of books with female authors vs. male and in particular, how those numbers play out in areas where I'm interested in reading, so it may be that my bias is not my own and rather is caused by availability.
I struggled with my books goal this year. The random selection of the yearly goal of 30 pushed me well beyond what I otherwise would have done. As of March 8th, I had read none. Yikes. That may be the longest period of time I've gone without reading a book since I learned to read.
I eeked out 12 by early June. This was around the time when I realized LuLu completely took advantage of me with respect to the Flower Girl Saves the Day book I wrote for my niece in June. Not a good books moment in my life, overall.
Thankfully, I turned it around and hit 20 books by October 3, 2011, which was not on track for the goal. So, I took drastic action and focused on short books for the rest of the year.
I increased the randomness in my life by quite a bit and ripped through books 21-28 in less than a month.
I also cleared 30 books with plenty to spare. Here's the rundown:
- The History of Argentina (Greenwood Histories of the Modern Nations) by Daniel K. Lewis. Amazing cultural background for our trip to Argentina. Fascinating how different the experience has been of people my age, many of whom I interacted with. Particularly amazing that women didn't vote 'til 1947, and no peaceful change of political regimes until the late 20th century.
- Dreaming the Biosphere by Rebecca Reider. A very well-researched academic look at the biosphere. A bit too much focus on myth and history for my preference, but I sincerely enjoyed learning about the crazy details of the folks behind the project.
- The Human Experiment: Two Years and Twenty Minutes Inside the Biosphere by Jane Poynter. A personal account of the first stay in the biosphere. I very much enjoyed her accounts of the day-to-day farming tasks and cringed at the detail and extent of the political interpersonal dramas
- Labyrithns: Selected Stories and Other Writings by Jorge Luis Borges. Puzzles within puzzles. English translated from one of the most well-known Argentinian voices. Often I found myself starting a short story only to exhaust myself with promises of "later, when I have more time to focus." Much philosophical and historical meaning buried and hidden in the beautiful multi-stepped passages of this book. Enjoyable, but thought-provoking in a difficult way.
- Saturday by Ian McEwan. A beautiful tale of a very full day that examines the interelations between all of life's unseemingly connected events.
- Mennonite In a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen. A hilariously snarky tale of a sheltered Mennonite who became a world-weary academic and eventually goes home again. Also, fascinating details on the Mennonite culture and its evolution in modern America.
- Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. In the tradition of epic tales, while wonderfully modern and questioning in a non-biased way. Upon finishing, I wanted to re-read it immediately, to think and absorb the powerful lessons that it hinted at but did not preach -- are historic ways better? Are humans merely seeking more motion? Are running shoes a terrible thing (I wear them and replace them often!)?
- Chi Running by Danny Dreyer. A great perspective on proper running form, relaxing into the run (interestingly similar to the themes in Born to Run), and incorporating principles of proper Chi into running and life.
- Unacustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. Gorgeous vignettes of the Bengali-American or Bengali-British experience. Pain and loss told acheingly well.
- Atonement by Ian McEwan. A child's crime. Embraced and given momentum by adults in a terrible display of humanity's worst. War. Writing. All told with an embrace of the mundane details one remembers when in the midst of heatwrenching drama.
- Bridge of Sighs by Richard Russo. A lovingly intimate story of a family in a small town. Infinities within infinties -- drama and intrigue all buried in what appears from the outside to be a boringly normal and uninteresting group who tend to a corner store.
- Thoughtful Gardening by Robin Lane Fox. A collection of 2-5 page articles from a British Master Gardener sharing thoughts on flowers, gardens, beauty, history and civilization. A great introduction to the art of gardening for beauty's sake (instead of food).
- The Heart And the Fist by Eric Greitens. A personal tale of aid and conflict, struggles with protection and leading. Navy Seals. Adventures. Overall, an easy, informative, wonderfully entertaining read.
- Moneyball by Michael Lewis. A baseball parable of exploiting the human bias that often gets in the way of accepting mathematically or scientifically uncomfortable truths.
- Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt. Mr. McCourt's memoir of growing up as an Irish-American in Brooklyn and Limerick is filled with almost shocking tales of a child's matter of fact approach to life in extreme poverty.
- Anathem by Neal Stephenson. Futuristic speculative fiction at its finest. Physical and philosophical concepts retold, reinvented, and most importantly, all renamed in fictional languages. One of the more impressive written works of imaginative cohesiveness I've ever read.
- The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. A data nerd and control-freak ex-lawyer-cum-author's novel about her year-long approach to increasing happiness. I enjoyed it thoroughly. But, I may be biased…
- House of Mirth by Edith Wharton. The heartwrenching tragedy of a gorgeous young woman constantly self-sabotaging in the whimsicle leisure classes of early 20th century New York.
- Ringworld by Larry Niven. (The origin of the Halo Game) Painfully stark (emphasis on *painful*) wording combines with great imagination on the science side and ridiculous stereotypes on the gender side for one of the great Sci-Fi classics.
- An artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro (see the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- Kabul Beauty School by Deborah Rodriguez. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- Mudbound by Hilary Jordan. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- Running For The Hansons by Sage Canaday. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- Notes from My Travels by Angelina Jolie. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs by Heather Lende. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- 90-Day Geisha by Chelsea Haywood. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffengger. (See the 20-28 book blog post for more detail)
- The Help by Kathryn Stockett. There's a reason this book became a New York Times Bestseller and then was optioned into a movie. It was good. You should read it. I read it and had a book club conversation with my sister, which was a first for us. And fun.
- Consumption by Kevin Patterson. Ay. So much to say -- human evolution. Epidemologic evolution. Inuits. Mainlanders. Health. Disease. Death. Hunting. Life. Adventure. Love (fleetingly). A great tale.
- Full House: The Spread of Excellence From Plato to Darwin by Stephen Jay Gould. This book drove me crazy. The points he made are interesting, but the writing style was Not. For. Me. "So far I have only demonstrated…" "Most of this chapter has focused on…" Uggghh! Just write what you want to say, Man. E says the reason I didn't enjoy this book is that I don't know how to skim. I think he's right. Occupational hazard, I suppose.
- Codex by Lev Grossman. A very enjoyable modern mystery. Multi-player games, steganograms, library science, New York youth and British old money. Very satisfying during the read, but I felt the ending was a bit of a let-down (or a set-up for a sequel).
- On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan. A sad tale of uptight british lovers who part ways on their wedding night after an abismal failure to communicate about the oh-so-embarrassing realities of consummation (or failure thereof).
So, in the books mirrors life category, we've got 1 on travel, 2 on running, 1 on gardening, and a bunch of navel gazing about life experiences or locations I've never experienced. Seems about right.
As an aside: 13/33 books were written by women (39.4%), a non-trivial increase over the 7-yr average of 58/174 (33.3%). It occurred to me at some point this year that I don't select books on the basis of the gender of the author at all, but, I do fall in love with certain authors and try to read whatever I can get my hands on that they've written. When I realized this, I wondered if I had a bias, in terms of gender, and it appears that I do, although I'm not aware of the actual statistics in terms of number of books with female authors vs. male and in particular, how those numbers play out in areas where I'm interested in reading, so it may be that my bias is not my own and rather is caused by availability.
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