Cheese Omelet: No Place Like Home

I'm back from my little excursion to Virginia. I wasn't as productive as I'd hoped I might be up there. The BSG appreciation is mostly written, at least in my head, so plan to get that finished this weekend.

I became somewhat distracted by the possibility of rebuilding the infrastructure GHD is built upon here. So I was trying to wrap my brain around CSS and Tinderbox exports and the like. It looks like I should be able to figure it out. Not much is going to change, other than it'll be CSS and simpler HTML, and maybe a few tweaks here and there. Apple is going to be turning off its Homepage web app the week after next, and supposedly you won't be able to update homepage.mac.com web sites. I suspect that won't be the case for me, as I just export to the WebDav folder at my iDisk, and presumably all the content at the URL is going to remain there. If, on the other hand, I am prevented from adding additional content, ("content" - blech) I'll have to change over to my me.com domain - as if I weren't ego-centric enough! But stay tuned, we'll see what happens.

Speaking of ego, for years now, I've been the top search result if you type Dave Rogers into google's search field. I was a little surprised to discover last week that my place had been overtaken by another Dave Rogers, who is some sort of motivational speaker. Apparently it's a very near thing, as my recent updates - and some gratuitous, ego-centric, self-referential linkage seem to have been enough to propel me back to the top of the heap. Which is neither here nor there, I seem to care a little bit, but really not so much. A little search engine optimization is likely to put the other guy back at the top, and more power to him. What I do kind of care about is that people not confuse motivational speaking Dave Rogers with moi. Even though I write about things that, to me, are about life, transformation, meaning and such, I'm an authority on nothing - and I make all this shit up. And while it's how I live, it's not how I make my living.

So it's free.

And I'm grateful for all the folks who may still be following my misadventures in life. I was thinking the other day, in connection with the marathon piece, that it takes a certain amount of ego, bordering I suppose on arrogance, to opine the way I sometimes do here. Especially when it turns out that some of the things I think I understand, like "commitment and consistency," I really understand incompletely - or perhaps, not at all.

But, even for all that, I'm somehow compelled to do so. I may try to temper things a bit sometimes. Maybe I won't say that the construction, "markets are conversations" is a pernicious lie. Perhaps I'll say, "'Markets are conversations' may be a pernicious lie," instead.

Anyway, it is so nice to be back home with my friends and family and pets and familiar surroundings. I'm a very happy, very lucky guy, google ranking or no google ranking.

Song for the Day: As Soon as This is Over

Serendipity is a gift.

One of my very good friends, Inga, is leaving Florida for an adventure in Spain with her wonderful husband, Johnny. When they return, they'll be relocating to another state. That's her in the hat above, with my friend Alyson and me at our first Gate River Run and later at last year's Bruce Springsteen concert.

I woke this morning to find a farewell e-mail in my inbox that brought tears to my eyes.

In an unrelated effort, I was browsing around iTunes for any new work from some of my favorite artists. One of them is Patty Griffin. While there was no conscious connection that I was aware of ("Department of Redundancy Dept."), Inga introduced me to Patty's work, and she remains a favorite of mine.

The search results in iTunes returned something I'd never seen before, a result from iTunes U - the academic section of iTunes. Looking at it, it seemed it might be a commencement speech by Patty Griffin, but it seemed too short. I gave it a pass at first, but returned to it after a bit out of curiosity.

It turns out that she was presented with an honorary degree, and her response was offered in song, one she wrote for the occasion. And the lyric seemed so appropriate for Inga, and for the second time this morning, tears came to my eyes.

It's also appropriate for all young graduates this time of year, so I thought I'd pass it along here for you to share with anyone you know who may enjoy it. The link should open up in iTunes. It's a free download.

As Soon as This is Over, by Patty Griffin.

Blinding Glimpses of the Obvious: The Long Run

I studied taekwondo for many years. I haven't been practicing for a while, but I'm thinking of going back to the dojong soon. One of the things an instructor taught me was that mastering a martial art required commitment and consistency. Naturally, that seemed to make sense. At that time I was taking classes five or six days a week, sometimes two or three classes a day. I thought I was exhibiting commitment and consistency. When I was in class, I worked hard and put forth an honest effort.

I came to all the classes and did everything the instructors asked me to do and showed that I knew how to do it. I passed the required tests, and they awarded me the belts. I would often see other students who, while more talented than I, didn't come to class regularly, and sometimes didn't make a serious effort when they were in class. So, to me, commitment and consistency meant making the time in my day to show up for class, doing it regularly, and being focused while in class. Eventually I went on to earn my third degree black belt in Songham taekwondo.

While I remain proud of that, I have never truly felt that I had mastered the discipline to the degree signified by the belt. I knew the forms, I could execute the techniques, I could break the boards. But I never felt genuinely comfortable with my performance. I was always a little rocky on my single-legged stances. My kicks were never as high or as powerful as I thought they might have been. My spins were never as controlled as I thought they should be. And I never felt as physically fit as I should have been. For nearly all of that time, I was seriously overweight and not exactly living a healthy lifestyle.

Last August I began running with a neighbor of mine, Monica, who asked me to join her as she trained for a half-marathon she planned to run in November. I had no desire to run a half-marathon, and the longest distance I'd ever run to that point was 9.3 miles in the Jacksonville Gate River Run the previous March. I enjoyed running the Gate and I planned to do it again, so I'd already been running on a semi-regular basis, though seldom more than five miles at a time. Monica happens to be a very attractive woman and when she asked me if I would train with her it was easy to agree, even if I didn't intend to run a half-marathon.

Originally we'd planned to run some short distances on weekday evenings, but I found that difficult to fit into my schedule. I ended up running with her only on Saturdays, which was the "long" run each week. As the weeks went by, we added a mile to each of the long runs until we reached 10 miles. That then became the longest distance I'd ever run. I was surprised by how easy it seemed to achieve that distance, and the thought of running 13.1 miles no longer seemed that difficult. I decided to run the half-marathon with her.

We did, and I wrote about it at the time, noting that I had no desire to ever run a full marathon. Monica and I continued to run together. We planned to run a half-marathon in February, and the Gate again in March. Her plans included a marathon in May in celebration of her 40th birthday. She'd run three before, and wanted to do another one. In late January, I offered to run the marathon with her. She welcomed the news, but she warned me that it wouldn't be like training for the half-marathon, and that I would have to be serious about training for it.

I did some cursory research on marathon training, and since we were already planning to run a half-marathon in February, there was no immediate requirement to change our routine. We continued to do long runs on Saturdays, and about the only other thing I did was walk four miles at lunchtime on most weekdays, and walk Bodhi several times a day at home.

It wasn't until after the Gate River Run in March that we really began training for the marathon according to an actual training plan. It was one I'd cribbed from Runner's World magazine. It called for three runs a week - short, medium and long, with the respective distances increasing incrementally over the training period. On paper it didn't seem very intimidating, though I knew it would require a different sort of routine for my day, as most of the weekday runs would have to take place in the morning before work.

Early on we could get together about six in the morning and have enough time to complete the run before we'd have to get ready for work. As the distances increased, we had to start earlier in the day. Toward the end of training, we were setting out as early as 4:00 a.m. on Saturdays and 5:00 a.m. on Wednesdays. The effort we were making, and the early starts, placed a significant premium on rest. We found that we had to make significant changes to our respective, normally very active, social lives. This was the first real introduction I had to what "commitment" really means in terms of pursuing a goal.

Long distance running places formidable demands on one's body. Where I could previously run 10 miles after an evening out, the cumulative effects of training, the frequency and reduced time for recovery, made running 10 miles after an evening out a far more challenging proposition. It soon became clear that, at least on the nights before a run, I couldn't drink alcohol in any quantity; and had to be in bed no later than 9:00 p.m., or I would regret it in the morning. In effect, I was giving up my lifestyle in order to achieve my goal.

Even with the lifestyle changes, the training demands remained challenging. Getting out of bed early and performing the rituals to prepare for a long run, to include placing band-aids over my nipples to avoid painful, bleeding abrasions (not always successful), became onerous and burdensome to a degree I hadn't anticipated. But here is where the value of a partner becomes clear. While it would have been all too easy to roll over and go back to sleep, I wouldn't because I knew Monica was doing it too. When I stepped outside, she'd be down there waiting for me. But again, it was something of a broader introduction to the meaning of commitment.

Toward the end of our training I felt as though I had a new understanding of what my taekwondo instructor had been trying to tell me, and I think I understood the origin of my misgivings about my martial arts proficiency. While I "put in the time," I made no other sacrifices in the pursuit of my goal. I alluded to this in a post here from 17 May. But there was more to learn, as I would discover during the race a couple of weeks later.

I never had any real pain on any of our training runs. I'd had bad days, with dehydration or fatigue being problems. But I'd never had any serious pain while running, although the Piriformis Syndrome had begun to manifest itself toward the end. The weather in San Diego was perfect for a marathon. Overcast, cool, I don't think it got above 70 during the race. I had a good night's sleep the night before, something that had worried me in the days before the race. While my hip was still bothering me a little now and then, our last couple of short runs were among our fastest. I felt very confident the morning of the marathon, even cocky. It was going to be a good day. We were fast, well rested, and the weather was perfect.

To be brief, I was experiencing significant pain in my legs by about mile 15. Even though I was well hydrated, they kept giving every indication of being about to cramp up, both thighs and calves. The hip was the least of my worries, though it did hurt quite a bit on a long curving section of highway that had a steep pitch or bank to it. But every time my foot hit the ground I had pain from the sole of my foot right up to my hip.

It was unexpected, unusual and unnerving. We would walk and I would recover a bit, only to have it return after only a short distance. Mentally, I began to fall into a very negative state of mind, being angry at myself and feeling as though I was letting Monica down. She stayed with me through about mile 17 or 18, when we came on a first aid station. I asked for some Tylenol, and was fortunate to receive some. With Monica on her way, I was actually relieved. I believed I was going to have to walk the last eight miles and it was a very sad, defeated sort of place to be.

Fortunately, the pain reliever began to work and I found I could run between half and three quarters of a mile before I would have to walk a bit. But I could run at a good clip for that distance, so I began to feel better about myself and decided I would try to beat a time of 5:30 for the race. We'd hoped to run it in five hours or less, but now I would be happy not to have to walk the rest of the way. 5:30 seemed achievable. In terms of my heart rate, I was in great shape. It was in the normal ranges for the paces I was running, and it would recover quickly. All my problems were in my leg muscles.

At one point, the course kind of doubles back on itself, and I found Monica waiting for me there. I told her I was feeling better and able to run and told her to get going. She ended up finishing about 5:17, and I came in a little over 10 minutes later at 5:27 and change. While I was happy to finish, I was still down on myself about my performance. They were strongly mixed emotions, both high and low. I was never so happy to see Monica as when she met me at the finish line.

As the hours and then the days went by, I began to feel better about my performance. Monica told me her first marathon took her over six hours. But I feel as though I learned some other important things, or maybe re-learned them.

The first is humility. I have no doubt that it is good to be confident; but it is probably one thing to be confident, and entirely another to be cocky - not to recognize that challenges are just that: challenging. Although the despair I felt at miles 16 and 17 probably didn't adversely affect my time, they did adversely affect my experience, and almost certainly Monica's as well. I suppose the thing to remember is that all we can do is our best, and the rest isn't up to us. If there are setbacks, to accept them gracefully and try to work around them as best we can. Ultimately, I did work around them. Nevertheless, I could have avoided some needless suffering if I'd been a bit less cocky, a little more humble.

The other thing I think I may have learned is that commitment extends not merely to making the necessary effort and sacrifice, but to oneself as well. To be mentally beating myself up when I should have been enjoying the day, was more about my ego than keeping faith with myself. I've learned this before, and I suppose I'm going to keep learning it until I get it. But I think I may have gotten it this time.

In the end, those moments aside, it was a very successful race. We were fortunate that through all of our training we remained relatively injury-free. Monica fell once, and I fell the other morning. Neither of us were seriously hurt. We enjoyed phenomenally good weather save for the last week or so in Florida. Our schedules were compatible, and we were able to train together nearly every run. I've enjoyed many hours of conversation and laughter, a few beautiful sunrises, several beach discoveries, a couple of swallowed bugs, and a few close encounters with cars and bicycles. It has been, in all ways, a remarkable and rewarding experience. And I must say that I was very fortunate, even blessed, to have had such a wonderful person as my partner.

I've learned a great deal about what commitment means. I've learned a great deal about what I, and anyone, can actually achieve. And though it truly is a "blinding glimpse of the obvious," it has irrevocably changed my view of what is possible for me to do in my life and for my life.

When I left my condo last Sunday, my kitchen sink had been clean for seven straight days. Prior to that, I would clean it from time to time, but it would always accumulate a collection of dirty dishes, food scraps, water stains and the occasional beer bottle cap. I'd come home from work and see it and feel rotten about it, but always sort of regard it as something that was just "too hard" to keep up with. Well, maybe not anymore. Commitment and consistency. Embodied knowledge that we have within us the means to achieve the things we wish to achieve, if we choose to commit to them. Right now, I'm committed to a clean sink.

And Monica and I are committed to another marathon this coming January, in Phoenix.

Cheese Omelet: Morning Brief

It's been busy since the marathon. I'm getting ready to leave today to head up to Virginia for the next 10 days for work. I'd been hoping to get some time to write about the marathon, but it didn't happen. The good news is, I should have plenty of time over the next couple of weeks. So, expect some updates...

In other news, I'm back running with my partner, Monica. She's awesome. I must say, it is far easier to undertake a significant effort, like training for a marathon, with a partner than it would be to do it alone. And, as my Facebook friends already know, we've signed up for the Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in Phoenix in January '10. Yep, I'm going to do another one. More about that in the marathon post. Stay tuned...

Looking forward to iPhone OS 3.0 coming out next week. I want the new version hardware as well, but I may wait a few months while I sort out the financial issues and see what the initial reports are. I'm very happy with my current generation iPhone, so it's not as though I'll be doing without. (And yes, I realize how over-privileged I already am.)

Loaned one of my Mac minis to my friend, Inga, who became a Battlestar Galactica fan. The last 10 episodes won't be out on DVD for several months, and she'd raced through the previous 70 with phenomenal speed. I have the last 10 on iTunes, so I moved them from the external drive attached to the living room mini, to the internal drive of the spare bedroom mini. That necessitated removing some files, and while I was at it I did all the software updates that had been accumulating for that machine. Caitie doesn't stay here very often anymore, so it gets much less use.

But one thing leads to another, and so I ended up doing sysadmin chores for all my machines yesterday. I had bought a couple of packages from MacUpdate and MacHeist and hadn't always downloaded and installed all the apps, so I went through and did that yesterday as well. I've recently felt inspired to change my home paperwork "workflow" (to use that detestable neologism). But I have some ideas that I think might make things a little easier for me, although it does involve having to ascend the stairs to the loft, which has heretofore been something of a barrier to working up there. But that's about to change too.

More about all of that, to include an appreciation of Battlestar Galactica, in subsequent posts from my motel room in Virginia. For now, I have to finish packing and getting this place buttoned up.