Catalina Half Marathon
I got some pics from friend Greg. And I had to yell at the race organizers, but I finally secured my glorious 40th place finish! (Glory coefficient falls off sharply after 40th place.) Also, I feel the name "Buffalo Run" is somewhat derogatory--like I am a fat tub-o-lard (at times, not untrue).
I Am Going to Settle
A year older and none-the-wiser, this article from The Atlantic convinced me to settle for anyone. I will take marriage proposals in the comments. From the article:
Marriage isn’t a passion-fest; it’s more like a partnership formed to run a very small, mundane, and often boring nonprofit business.And this truism, I guess:
Men settle far less often and, when they do, they don’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that they’re settling.
My friend Alan, for instance, justified his choice of a “bland” wife who’s a good mom but with whom he shares little connection this way: “I think one-stop shopping is overrated. I get passion at my office with my work, or with my friends that I sometimes call or chat with—it’s not the same, and, boy, it would be exciting to have it with my spouse. But I spend more time with people at my office than I do with my spouse.”
I Am Too Predictable
Why? Well, my best birthday gifts this year were 1 dozen frosted sugar cookies and 2 dozen pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. I am going to go slow, in light of my previous post about being totally fit and awesome and what not....
Yoga
This Saturday kicks off my race season--a half marathon on Catalina island with Big Harry. At the end of the month, I am on a team with Kent, Dave, and several others doing a 200 mile relay race in Arizona. At the beginning of March, I have another half marathon in Moab, UT with a good portion of the extended family. At the end of March, I have the Oceanside half-Ironman. Finally, in June I have a 10k mud run at Camp Pendleton with some ward people.
I mention this for three reasons:
1. To sound awesome
2. To broadcast my future whereabouts to would-be stalkers
3. To explain why I went to a yoga class for the first time
As part of my overall preparation, I wanted to work on flexibility and core body strength. The 24 Hour Fitness I go to is crowded all of the time and their mats are super gross--they seriously smell like a can of dog food, if you opened that can while your head was in a flatulent horse's colon. I can do weights or treadmill, but beyond that a man has to set limits.
Yoga seemed like the perfect fit--close to my house, I bring my own mat, plenty of space to maneuver, and I can work on both flexibility and core strength. That is why I went once. This is why I am going to make it a regular affair:
1. Even the beginner class was really, really hard. Not just unpleasant hard, but my legs shaking to the point of collapse hard. I didn't expect that. By the end of the night, sweat was running down my legs, off my arms, and dripping like a leaky faucet from my chin. This wasn't even the Bikram yoga where the pump up the heating to 100 degrees.
2. The yoga mumbo jumbo was omnipresent--"be respectful of what your body is telling you," "find your space," "I want the breathing in this room to echo off the ceiling," etc. Sitar music was playing in the background. The attendant gave me herbal tea and offered to recycle the paper on which I printed directions to the studio. We even ended "the practice" with 5-minutes of adult nap time--instructor turned out the lights and everyone laid on their mat and meditated. While everyone else was meditating, I was smiling ear to ear thinking of how this is all New-Agey BS and also thinking about how much I totally dig it.
3. Hot women--this is where they are. Not at 24 Hour Fitness, not at the city pool, not running or biking on the boardwalk. I checked all those places. They are all here doing yoga. The class was filled with lithe 20-somethings (and a few legitimately hot cougars) who get turned on by natural clothing, environmental sustainability, and voting for Obama. I love it.
All of life is just acting anyway. Yoga is a key part of playing the "everything between LA and NYC is flyover country," "I cried when Al Gore received the Nobel prize," "I work for the Man but oppose the Man," "I voted for Obama as a Get Out ofJail Racist Free card," California liberal. I relish it. Maybe I will take up a dance class as well--the gay factor would put a quint-fecta in play. And more hot girls.
I mention this for three reasons:
1. To sound awesome
2. To broadcast my future whereabouts to would-be stalkers
3. To explain why I went to a yoga class for the first time
As part of my overall preparation, I wanted to work on flexibility and core body strength. The 24 Hour Fitness I go to is crowded all of the time and their mats are super gross--they seriously smell like a can of dog food, if you opened that can while your head was in a flatulent horse's colon. I can do weights or treadmill, but beyond that a man has to set limits.
Yoga seemed like the perfect fit--close to my house, I bring my own mat, plenty of space to maneuver, and I can work on both flexibility and core strength. That is why I went once. This is why I am going to make it a regular affair:
1. Even the beginner class was really, really hard. Not just unpleasant hard, but my legs shaking to the point of collapse hard. I didn't expect that. By the end of the night, sweat was running down my legs, off my arms, and dripping like a leaky faucet from my chin. This wasn't even the Bikram yoga where the pump up the heating to 100 degrees.
2. The yoga mumbo jumbo was omnipresent--"be respectful of what your body is telling you," "find your space," "I want the breathing in this room to echo off the ceiling," etc. Sitar music was playing in the background. The attendant gave me herbal tea and offered to recycle the paper on which I printed directions to the studio. We even ended "the practice" with 5-minutes of adult nap time--instructor turned out the lights and everyone laid on their mat and meditated. While everyone else was meditating, I was smiling ear to ear thinking of how this is all New-Agey BS and also thinking about how much I totally dig it.
3. Hot women--this is where they are. Not at 24 Hour Fitness, not at the city pool, not running or biking on the boardwalk. I checked all those places. They are all here doing yoga. The class was filled with lithe 20-somethings (and a few legitimately hot cougars) who get turned on by natural clothing, environmental sustainability, and voting for Obama. I love it.
All of life is just acting anyway. Yoga is a key part of playing the "everything between LA and NYC is flyover country," "I cried when Al Gore received the Nobel prize," "I work for the Man but oppose the Man," "I voted for Obama as a Get Out of
Running Low on Blogs...
So I found this eurotrash/hipster photo blog. Thought I would share some of my boggling.
Apparently, modern hipsters haven't seen the Seinfeld about the pirate shirt, so they wear it in black and white check. It looks like he has been attacked by a table cloth.
Some, I thought were in good taste: here, here, here, here, and here. Of course by good taste I mean "have cute women in the photo."
I don't know exactly what to make of this guy--sort of a Stalin meets shrink wrap meets lost trapper--but I sort of like it.
A lost Bolander, I guess.
The key to a good fashion shot is small dogs and shaggy dogs. I want to get a shaggy dog and hunt wolves in 16th century Poland.
The new face of Coke in France. I am speechless and so, apparently, is he.
The reason we can't catch terrorists is because they have learned to dress like this.
This lady appears to be wearing a Windows logo for a scarf. Soon Microhoo will sue.
Steve Jobs, this is what your customer base looks like. (Shiver)
As soon as I saw this I thought of Alec Baldwin's line: "Kenneth, you are the worst gay bait ever."
Apparently, modern hipsters haven't seen the Seinfeld about the pirate shirt, so they wear it in black and white check. It looks like he has been attacked by a table cloth.
Some, I thought were in good taste: here, here, here, here, and here. Of course by good taste I mean "have cute women in the photo."
I don't know exactly what to make of this guy--sort of a Stalin meets shrink wrap meets lost trapper--but I sort of like it.
A lost Bolander, I guess.
The key to a good fashion shot is small dogs and shaggy dogs. I want to get a shaggy dog and hunt wolves in 16th century Poland.
The new face of Coke in France. I am speechless and so, apparently, is he.
The reason we can't catch terrorists is because they have learned to dress like this.
This lady appears to be wearing a Windows logo for a scarf. Soon Microhoo will sue.
Steve Jobs, this is what your customer base looks like. (Shiver)
As soon as I saw this I thought of Alec Baldwin's line: "Kenneth, you are the worst gay bait ever."
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