seriously, why do I do this stuff? Ryan in Kelowna asked if I would do the Kelowna Marathon on October 9th THIS YEAR. I said no at first, but then figured "hell, I've got two months. Doing a half marathon a little over a month ago KILLED ME, but yeah, a full one shouldn't be too bad..."
Another 22-ish kilometer run today....maybe 25k... I really don't know. 2 hours in any case. Assuming I keep my standard pace, I'll finish a full marathon in little over 3h20m.
That's a FUCKING HOUR + over my current best run!!!
I can't move my legs. I think I need a doctor, only I can't reach my phone on the bed 6 feet from me because I fear my legs will cramp and kill me at the computer. At least if I publish this blog before moving, all will know how I perished.
After the Penticton tri, I said I would take a break from the training thing, but TWO DAYS LATER I was out running... I know I'll be back in the saddle in a few days after this.
It just hurts.
Badly.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
A Crazy Year...
From sitting on my ass watching TV to finishing the Peach Classic Triathlon...wow. Hard to believe. For the record, let me say that that Penticton course is HARD. Heat and hills, that's all there is.
I came it at 2:55:49, which my friend seems to think is awesome, but I felt a little disappointed, which is strange since I didn't expect to be able to race an Olympic Distance race this year. Still, I had it in my head that I would come in between 2:30 and 2:45. I have to remind myself that this is my first year in the sport (without any background in any of the 3 events, which others tend to have) and that what I've done thus far is impressive to say the least.
This race is also more elite than the others I've done. Many excellent competitors showed up on Sunday, many who were either finishers or champions of Ironman races past. Peter Reid, current Triathlon Canada champion was there...had I seen him I would have said hi.
So, the moral is that I have a long way to go, but my goal is to place top 3 in my age category (and finish an Ironman, but that will come along the way methinks) so I must continue training. Harder, Faster, Stronger...etc
11 months and a week since I first decided I wanted to do this sport, and here I am, a lean, mean fighting machine. I think I will spend the winter working on my swim, which needs to become faster, and my bike, which needs to be replaced with something, oh I don't know...FAST (though she has held up beautifully for me).
I still may do the Vancouver Tri, but I'm not sure. It's in September so I have time, and there a sprint dist on Sept 18 that may be a nice way to finish off the season and show me if I've improved on my Delta time at all.
Until next time, adios me!
I came it at 2:55:49, which my friend seems to think is awesome, but I felt a little disappointed, which is strange since I didn't expect to be able to race an Olympic Distance race this year. Still, I had it in my head that I would come in between 2:30 and 2:45. I have to remind myself that this is my first year in the sport (without any background in any of the 3 events, which others tend to have) and that what I've done thus far is impressive to say the least.
This race is also more elite than the others I've done. Many excellent competitors showed up on Sunday, many who were either finishers or champions of Ironman races past. Peter Reid, current Triathlon Canada champion was there...had I seen him I would have said hi.
So, the moral is that I have a long way to go, but my goal is to place top 3 in my age category (and finish an Ironman, but that will come along the way methinks) so I must continue training. Harder, Faster, Stronger...etc
11 months and a week since I first decided I wanted to do this sport, and here I am, a lean, mean fighting machine. I think I will spend the winter working on my swim, which needs to become faster, and my bike, which needs to be replaced with something, oh I don't know...FAST (though she has held up beautifully for me).
I still may do the Vancouver Tri, but I'm not sure. It's in September so I have time, and there a sprint dist on Sept 18 that may be a nice way to finish off the season and show me if I've improved on my Delta time at all.
Until next time, adios me!
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Half-Life 2
Personally, I never saw what was so great about the first Half-Life. To me it was just another FPS. I didn't have a computer to play it when it came out, so maybe I missed out on the initial craze. The furthest I ever got in the game was being transported to the alien dimension. By then I had no life and was getting attacked by electricity mofos left, right, and centre. I also constantly felt that I had no idea what was going on in the game. Someone would say where to go but I would forget after 10 minutes of intense combat with either aliens, zombies, or marines.Still, it was a good game.
HL2 was pure fun though. I still had the whole "what am I supposed to be doing again?" feeling once in a while, but storyline stuff aside, the game is just pure fun. The game took the idea of "immersiveness" to a whole new level with the physics engine they used. I remember being in the city knowing that I was going to be attacked around this corner by some combine troops. I looked around and saw an explosive barrel next to the stairs I had to go down. I decided to push the barrel down the stairs and shoot it as it hit to kill whatever was hiding on me.
There was no one there, but the fact that I could do that if I wanted is a big step in video game history. I look forward to the endless possibilities that games like this will present to us gamers as time and technology improve.
HL2 has taken the idea of the fps and added a tactical/strategic element (in terms of environment) that the genre desperately needs to help redefine itself.
/my 13 cents
PS. THE GAME IS SOOOOO PRETTY!
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Das Marathonen / 2 (also known as the Half-Marathon)
During one of my many internet adventures, I came across the blog (or some sort of post) of a girl who was writing about her first marathon. I thought I'd follow suit.
I came to the conclusion at the end of my race today that running a marathon is like reading a story. It has intro, building action, climax, denoument, with various trials along the way to help develop the main character, which is me in this case. So, without further ado...
Commencement
Woke up at 5:30
Had a quick shower
Ate a bowl of Vector. I must say there is something about the fact that it is "officially" a "meal replacement" that makes me want to eat it when I have a race or intense physical activity of any sort. Then again maybe it's the fact that it has crazy carbs and protein. In any case, I've had it for brekky for all three of my races this year and I've done well, so maybe it does work.
I read, on Friday conveniently, that caffeine has been found to increase carb absorption in athletes by something like 26%. I tend to run better with some coffee in me, so this kinda sold me even more. I had a smallish cup after my cereal, and half a banana since those are my magic "wow, I don't feel tired anymore" food for runs. I got changed into tank top and shorts, new running socks (which are AWESOME), put on my shoes, grabbed my race belt (for number only, no liquid things), and rolled out like Optimus Prime on a mission.
I jogged to the bus stop and felt GREAT, considering I've been down for a week with some weak cold thing that was just bad enough to mess my lungs up for running. I coasted, for lack of a better term to the bus stop, and was surprised at how good I felt.
EVERYONE on the bus was dressed and had numbers pinned to their shirts. I felt sorry for anyone who got on and wondered what the hell was going on with these people.
Arrived at the start line at about 7, with 30 minutes to kill before start time. I felt no anxiety or trepidation at all, which was a first I think. After my friend Erin told me that I have a great running pace, I realized that running was something that I could do really well, and a little more practice showed that she was right. I have a gimpy leg of sorts, but it appears not to affect my ability to run or overall fatigue, which is surprising after about a decade of being unable to run due to a shitty ankle on the same leg.
Anyways, after a quick bathroom stop, I returned to hop in the crowd for the starting gun. I had been wanting to place in the top third of everyone since I felt that that was where my skills would place me, so I moved up towards the front. My starting position was more like where the top 10% would be, since there were so many people I couldn't see very far behind me. I actually thought I was at about 1/3 of the way to the front...no no no, foolish me.
Rising Action
While hopping around warming up, a loud horn went off. I guess the race was starting. I started my leisurely pace while a LOT of people were running past me, or trying to go fast in general. "Have they ever even run this distance?" I thought to myself. I knew that there was a considerable amount of distance to cover, and dying in the first kilometer would be completely foolish. Sure enough, after about 5 whole minutes, I heard a lot of heavy wheezing around me and suddenly I was beginning to pass people, still running the pace I had started on.
Things picked up on the left turn on 16th Ave. Here we were to run to Blanca (or so I thought), then turn around and head back to Southwest Marine Dr. After the turn, all those people who though gunning it was a good idea were beginning to fall back, and I started to pick up my pace. What followed was about 10 minutes of my passing people by the 10s, and gloating over my obvious awesomeness. Well, maybe not much of the last part, but I was passing a lot of people.
Blanca came and went.
"um...."
Oh, the turn around was just beyond Blanca, over a little hill. Before the turnaround, people were pretty spaced out and running in a giant mess. After, the line became more of a line as everyone started falling into regular pace.
5k in 22 minutes, a new personal (recorded anyway) record for me.
I was in a good headspace turning north onto Marine Drive. I passed the second water station without getting anything. I figured that since I can usually run for 1.5 hours without water, I shouldn't have to here.
Conflict
After a while, SW Marine starts going downhill and we turned to go down an even steeper hill, a hill renouned for its general steepyness among hill lovers. It was hard to slow down on this hill, so I let the legs do what they wanted for the kilometer or so. Then I felt it, a disturbance in the force of my legs. Actually, a disturbance in two part of the same leg at once, one in the hamstring, another up where the leg connects to the torso (I don't know the exact name for the muscle anymore...maybe the hip flexor?). So, I had pulled something. With every step I could feel the pain building, miniscule at first, but slowly growing. I knew this was it. I was done. This would grow and grow and grow until I was forced to stop and quit. Then the pain suddenly stopped. I don't know a what point it occurred, just that it was gone and I was happy. At the upcoming water station I decided to grab some Gatorade since the quick jaunt down the hill had taken some energy out of me.
Now, trying to drink from an open cup while running is no small feat, and one that I'd never even tried before this race. So, as was bound to happen, I got some Gatorade in my mouth and the rest on my chin and shirt. Sweet. I was going to smell Gatorade for the rest of the run.
At this point I was starting to tire. I had passed KM 14, which was just over half way, but I was starting to feel fatigued. Also, because I'm a complete idiot and thought I would tighten a shoe lace before the race, I was beginning to feel the pain of having a too-tight lace digging into the top of my foot, causing some ferocious owie-time pain. My ankle, for the first time in, oh, I don't know, 10 MONTHS, decided it was time to start hurting again (same foot), so pain was now on my mind and my concentration was shot as I began a shitty slow uphill climb to 4th Ave.
At this point, while my pace was remaining pretty constant, the fast people who started further back in the pack began to pass me, one at a time, just slowly enough that I would hear their footsteps becoming progressively louder as they approached from behind. I had never experienced this before in a run, and it is disheartening to say the least. I took some solace in the fact that I was not passed by anyone that I had passed earlier, but it still sucked to have people effectively whizzing by you. If my foot pain wasn't enough to hurt my concentration, this certainly didn't help my spirits any.
The next water stop was approaching and I still had a pooey taste of Gatorade in my mouth from the last stop, so I thought I'd grab some water to rinse my mouth out. Bad idea. I took the tiniest gulp of water, KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT MIGHT CAUSE ME CRAMPS, and instantly felt a little revived. Old Gatorade stuck in your dry mouth is not nice, and the water was a godsend.
Then I was knifed by a homeless man, and while lying on the ground that homeless man's friends ganged up on my and kicked me in the abdomen repeatedly...
Maybe not, but I did get a cramp.
I wasn't a "stop racing and breathe" cramp, but more of a "everything hurts, I should really stop racing and breathe" cramp.
So, now I had a pain-ridden foot, people passing me regularly, and evil breath-taking cramps that seemed to find pleasure in moving from the right side to the left side of my body and back.
Passing MacDonald St. was a relief, since I was now in MY run territory, the path I take almost every time I go running. Now I knew what to expect all the way to the finish and could begin to regain some psychological composure. The cramps were still there, but I picked up the pace and felt better getting to the Burrard St. Bridge. Passing the gross smell of bacon at the local White Spot didn't help though, nor did that evil bridge, glaring at me, knowing how much I hate it. It's a long, slow, painful incline, and while I would normally be running on the sidewalk where I could look out on the bay to distract my mind, I instead had to look at concrete and cars. Yay.
A left off the bridge and we were on the home stretch. The passing of yours truly became less frequent, which was nice. I had my running mindset back, but my legs were starting to become useless from too much wear and tear. The run went down to the seawall off Beach Ave (I think that's it), but I was tired and was just trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other in a regular fashion.
Climax
As I passed the sign denoting the entrance to Stanley Park, some guy around my age slowly caught up to me. I looked at him to see where he was going to pass and he nodded at me. For some reason, for the first time in the hour and a half race so far, I decided to talk to this guy, with about 1 kilometer to go. He told me that he was normally a trail runner but this was his first road race. Cool, I thought, a newb like me. I told him this was my first running race as well (too much breath needed to talk about Triathlons at this point). He conceded that he was "out of gas" just like me. I felt some strange affinity for this guy who I had just met and decided to keep up to him as we ran towards the finish, only a 100 or so metres away now. Then I decided that I wasn't done, that I had just enough to sprint the finish and make it count. Just as I was about to jump into a sprint, dude next to me speaks my thoughts: "All right, lets do this." We gunned it, running full out through the crowds and across the line, a private two-man race in the midst of this great event of 4500 competitors. I passed the line and felt more dead than ever before. No Triathlon finish left me feeling as tired and fulfilled as I was at the end of this race. I looked around for my race buddy, saw him keeled over behind me, breathing heavily. We shook hands and congratulated eachother. I thanked him for the motivation, but I think it came out more like "wheeeeze...wheeeeeze...goood motivation.....wheeeeeze...thanks...." If I ever see him again I'll buy him a beer.
Denoument
After about a minute, my breathing and heartrate returned to normal. I'm absolutely fucking amazed at my ability to just "turn off" race mode when I'm done and walk around feeling perfectly relaxed, if a bit sore. I got gatorade, gatorade, water, water, water, gatorade, water, banana, power bar protein drink thing, banana, propel fitness water bottle, water to wash the shitty propel fitness water taste out of my mouth because it SUCKS. I also had an orange...and more water.
I went to watch the other finishers during this, clapping and cheering them on. Some of the girls I saw finishing were crying, and I was myself almost moved to tears. I pictured these girls as having overcome some great obstacles, like cancer or something, to do these races. Feeling as tired as I was, even finishing something like this is a victory in itself, and to all those who fought the odds to complete this Half-Marathon, I thank you for showing the rest of us what true courage is.
I was about to leave the race area when I saw an old man jogging up at about the 2 hour 50 minute mark. I heard the announcer say that this man was in the 80+ age category. I stopped instantly and started clapping for this man, telling him that he was done and way to go. To do this event again when I'm 80-something and finish it...I couldn't imagine the balls it would take to do something like that. If I get to be that man when I'm 80, crossing the finish line for a Half-Marathon, I'll feel like I did something right in life.
I came to the conclusion at the end of my race today that running a marathon is like reading a story. It has intro, building action, climax, denoument, with various trials along the way to help develop the main character, which is me in this case. So, without further ado...
Commencement
Woke up at 5:30
Had a quick shower
Ate a bowl of Vector. I must say there is something about the fact that it is "officially" a "meal replacement" that makes me want to eat it when I have a race or intense physical activity of any sort. Then again maybe it's the fact that it has crazy carbs and protein. In any case, I've had it for brekky for all three of my races this year and I've done well, so maybe it does work.
I read, on Friday conveniently, that caffeine has been found to increase carb absorption in athletes by something like 26%. I tend to run better with some coffee in me, so this kinda sold me even more. I had a smallish cup after my cereal, and half a banana since those are my magic "wow, I don't feel tired anymore" food for runs. I got changed into tank top and shorts, new running socks (which are AWESOME), put on my shoes, grabbed my race belt (for number only, no liquid things), and rolled out like Optimus Prime on a mission.
I jogged to the bus stop and felt GREAT, considering I've been down for a week with some weak cold thing that was just bad enough to mess my lungs up for running. I coasted, for lack of a better term to the bus stop, and was surprised at how good I felt.
EVERYONE on the bus was dressed and had numbers pinned to their shirts. I felt sorry for anyone who got on and wondered what the hell was going on with these people.
Arrived at the start line at about 7, with 30 minutes to kill before start time. I felt no anxiety or trepidation at all, which was a first I think. After my friend Erin told me that I have a great running pace, I realized that running was something that I could do really well, and a little more practice showed that she was right. I have a gimpy leg of sorts, but it appears not to affect my ability to run or overall fatigue, which is surprising after about a decade of being unable to run due to a shitty ankle on the same leg.
Anyways, after a quick bathroom stop, I returned to hop in the crowd for the starting gun. I had been wanting to place in the top third of everyone since I felt that that was where my skills would place me, so I moved up towards the front. My starting position was more like where the top 10% would be, since there were so many people I couldn't see very far behind me. I actually thought I was at about 1/3 of the way to the front...no no no, foolish me.
Rising Action
While hopping around warming up, a loud horn went off. I guess the race was starting. I started my leisurely pace while a LOT of people were running past me, or trying to go fast in general. "Have they ever even run this distance?" I thought to myself. I knew that there was a considerable amount of distance to cover, and dying in the first kilometer would be completely foolish. Sure enough, after about 5 whole minutes, I heard a lot of heavy wheezing around me and suddenly I was beginning to pass people, still running the pace I had started on.
Things picked up on the left turn on 16th Ave. Here we were to run to Blanca (or so I thought), then turn around and head back to Southwest Marine Dr. After the turn, all those people who though gunning it was a good idea were beginning to fall back, and I started to pick up my pace. What followed was about 10 minutes of my passing people by the 10s, and gloating over my obvious awesomeness. Well, maybe not much of the last part, but I was passing a lot of people.
Blanca came and went.
"um...."
Oh, the turn around was just beyond Blanca, over a little hill. Before the turnaround, people were pretty spaced out and running in a giant mess. After, the line became more of a line as everyone started falling into regular pace.
5k in 22 minutes, a new personal (recorded anyway) record for me.
I was in a good headspace turning north onto Marine Drive. I passed the second water station without getting anything. I figured that since I can usually run for 1.5 hours without water, I shouldn't have to here.
Conflict
After a while, SW Marine starts going downhill and we turned to go down an even steeper hill, a hill renouned for its general steepyness among hill lovers. It was hard to slow down on this hill, so I let the legs do what they wanted for the kilometer or so. Then I felt it, a disturbance in the force of my legs. Actually, a disturbance in two part of the same leg at once, one in the hamstring, another up where the leg connects to the torso (I don't know the exact name for the muscle anymore...maybe the hip flexor?). So, I had pulled something. With every step I could feel the pain building, miniscule at first, but slowly growing. I knew this was it. I was done. This would grow and grow and grow until I was forced to stop and quit. Then the pain suddenly stopped. I don't know a what point it occurred, just that it was gone and I was happy. At the upcoming water station I decided to grab some Gatorade since the quick jaunt down the hill had taken some energy out of me.
Now, trying to drink from an open cup while running is no small feat, and one that I'd never even tried before this race. So, as was bound to happen, I got some Gatorade in my mouth and the rest on my chin and shirt. Sweet. I was going to smell Gatorade for the rest of the run.
At this point I was starting to tire. I had passed KM 14, which was just over half way, but I was starting to feel fatigued. Also, because I'm a complete idiot and thought I would tighten a shoe lace before the race, I was beginning to feel the pain of having a too-tight lace digging into the top of my foot, causing some ferocious owie-time pain. My ankle, for the first time in, oh, I don't know, 10 MONTHS, decided it was time to start hurting again (same foot), so pain was now on my mind and my concentration was shot as I began a shitty slow uphill climb to 4th Ave.
At this point, while my pace was remaining pretty constant, the fast people who started further back in the pack began to pass me, one at a time, just slowly enough that I would hear their footsteps becoming progressively louder as they approached from behind. I had never experienced this before in a run, and it is disheartening to say the least. I took some solace in the fact that I was not passed by anyone that I had passed earlier, but it still sucked to have people effectively whizzing by you. If my foot pain wasn't enough to hurt my concentration, this certainly didn't help my spirits any.
The next water stop was approaching and I still had a pooey taste of Gatorade in my mouth from the last stop, so I thought I'd grab some water to rinse my mouth out. Bad idea. I took the tiniest gulp of water, KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT MIGHT CAUSE ME CRAMPS, and instantly felt a little revived. Old Gatorade stuck in your dry mouth is not nice, and the water was a godsend.
Then I was knifed by a homeless man, and while lying on the ground that homeless man's friends ganged up on my and kicked me in the abdomen repeatedly...
Maybe not, but I did get a cramp.
I wasn't a "stop racing and breathe" cramp, but more of a "everything hurts, I should really stop racing and breathe" cramp.
So, now I had a pain-ridden foot, people passing me regularly, and evil breath-taking cramps that seemed to find pleasure in moving from the right side to the left side of my body and back.
Passing MacDonald St. was a relief, since I was now in MY run territory, the path I take almost every time I go running. Now I knew what to expect all the way to the finish and could begin to regain some psychological composure. The cramps were still there, but I picked up the pace and felt better getting to the Burrard St. Bridge. Passing the gross smell of bacon at the local White Spot didn't help though, nor did that evil bridge, glaring at me, knowing how much I hate it. It's a long, slow, painful incline, and while I would normally be running on the sidewalk where I could look out on the bay to distract my mind, I instead had to look at concrete and cars. Yay.
A left off the bridge and we were on the home stretch. The passing of yours truly became less frequent, which was nice. I had my running mindset back, but my legs were starting to become useless from too much wear and tear. The run went down to the seawall off Beach Ave (I think that's it), but I was tired and was just trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other in a regular fashion.
Climax
As I passed the sign denoting the entrance to Stanley Park, some guy around my age slowly caught up to me. I looked at him to see where he was going to pass and he nodded at me. For some reason, for the first time in the hour and a half race so far, I decided to talk to this guy, with about 1 kilometer to go. He told me that he was normally a trail runner but this was his first road race. Cool, I thought, a newb like me. I told him this was my first running race as well (too much breath needed to talk about Triathlons at this point). He conceded that he was "out of gas" just like me. I felt some strange affinity for this guy who I had just met and decided to keep up to him as we ran towards the finish, only a 100 or so metres away now. Then I decided that I wasn't done, that I had just enough to sprint the finish and make it count. Just as I was about to jump into a sprint, dude next to me speaks my thoughts: "All right, lets do this." We gunned it, running full out through the crowds and across the line, a private two-man race in the midst of this great event of 4500 competitors. I passed the line and felt more dead than ever before. No Triathlon finish left me feeling as tired and fulfilled as I was at the end of this race. I looked around for my race buddy, saw him keeled over behind me, breathing heavily. We shook hands and congratulated eachother. I thanked him for the motivation, but I think it came out more like "wheeeeze...wheeeeeze...goood motivation.....wheeeeeze...thanks...." If I ever see him again I'll buy him a beer.
Denoument
After about a minute, my breathing and heartrate returned to normal. I'm absolutely fucking amazed at my ability to just "turn off" race mode when I'm done and walk around feeling perfectly relaxed, if a bit sore. I got gatorade, gatorade, water, water, water, gatorade, water, banana, power bar protein drink thing, banana, propel fitness water bottle, water to wash the shitty propel fitness water taste out of my mouth because it SUCKS. I also had an orange...and more water.
I went to watch the other finishers during this, clapping and cheering them on. Some of the girls I saw finishing were crying, and I was myself almost moved to tears. I pictured these girls as having overcome some great obstacles, like cancer or something, to do these races. Feeling as tired as I was, even finishing something like this is a victory in itself, and to all those who fought the odds to complete this Half-Marathon, I thank you for showing the rest of us what true courage is.
I was about to leave the race area when I saw an old man jogging up at about the 2 hour 50 minute mark. I heard the announcer say that this man was in the 80+ age category. I stopped instantly and started clapping for this man, telling him that he was done and way to go. To do this event again when I'm 80-something and finish it...I couldn't imagine the balls it would take to do something like that. If I get to be that man when I'm 80, crossing the finish line for a Half-Marathon, I'll feel like I did something right in life.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Mid-June life update
What's been happening as of late...?
First - had medical exam and interview with the Canadian Armed Forces yesterday. Medical went smoothly (which surprised me somehow - I always assumed that either my feet or something else would cause problems for entry into the army) and the interview was fun. All systems are go, but aside from the 6 month waiting period between the hiring of officers, the competitiveness of the hiring process may leave me behind unless I can get some leadership experience under my belt.
Now, I'm certainly not a follower. I tend to cut my own path through life, and others tend to follow me because it's more fun my way. In my point of view, if you have to tell yourself that you're a leader, then you probably aren't. When you embody certain characteristics that others find admirable, then you will have followers. However, I'm also more of a lone wolf, so the concept of leading and being around many other people all the time might not be the most appealing. I will have to try it out and see how I feel to be sure...
Second - I discovered the presense of a half-marathon yesterday while walking by Forerunners. Not only is it a distance that I know I can do, but it also takes place right near my house, starting at UBC and ending at Stanley Park. I have the money, so I see no reason not to give it a shot. It would be nice to have an official time under my belt.
First - had medical exam and interview with the Canadian Armed Forces yesterday. Medical went smoothly (which surprised me somehow - I always assumed that either my feet or something else would cause problems for entry into the army) and the interview was fun. All systems are go, but aside from the 6 month waiting period between the hiring of officers, the competitiveness of the hiring process may leave me behind unless I can get some leadership experience under my belt.
Now, I'm certainly not a follower. I tend to cut my own path through life, and others tend to follow me because it's more fun my way. In my point of view, if you have to tell yourself that you're a leader, then you probably aren't. When you embody certain characteristics that others find admirable, then you will have followers. However, I'm also more of a lone wolf, so the concept of leading and being around many other people all the time might not be the most appealing. I will have to try it out and see how I feel to be sure...
Second - I discovered the presense of a half-marathon yesterday while walking by Forerunners. Not only is it a distance that I know I can do, but it also takes place right near my house, starting at UBC and ending at Stanley Park. I have the money, so I see no reason not to give it a shot. It would be nice to have an official time under my belt.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Public Service Commission Testing
Dang!!! (In a good way)
Graduate Recruitment Test
Minimum Needed: 23/55
My score: 46/55
I have to say that that was a hard fucking ass test. However, I think that I did quite well based on that score. Needless to say this comes as a shock. Only 74/100 on the Situational Judgement Test, but I was expecting 0/100, only because it was really hard to know the correct answers for those situations.
This is sweet!
Now I need to find out my score on the Writing Proficiency Exam (hopefully please please be good!!) and to await a job offer or something (hopefully please please!!).
Graduate Recruitment Test
Minimum Needed: 23/55
My score: 46/55
I have to say that that was a hard fucking ass test. However, I think that I did quite well based on that score. Needless to say this comes as a shock. Only 74/100 on the Situational Judgement Test, but I was expecting 0/100, only because it was really hard to know the correct answers for those situations.
This is sweet!
Now I need to find out my score on the Writing Proficiency Exam (hopefully please please be good!!) and to await a job offer or something (hopefully please please!!).
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith
First post in a while, but I just wanted to write some thoughts I posted at Futuremark about this movie... may add more as I think of them, maybe after I watch the movie a second time.
I was kinda shocked coming out of the movie. It was a great film, but it was much different than all the rest. Very gloomy and dark. Right from the start you can feel a sense of forboding that follows through to the end of the movie.
Obi-Wan fighting Grievous felt kinda tacked on because it was supposed to be tacked on. The only reason Obi went to fight him is because Palpatine told the Jedi where he was. They didn't have to kill him really (trade fed guys were already ready to leave after Tyrannus' death, others would follow). The point was to get the council not to send Anakin. That way A) Anakin's teacher/brother is gone so Palpatine can have his way with him, and B) Palpatine made it sound like Anakin was the right choice to go, and when he wasn't sent, Anakin was angry, just as Palpy wanted.
My only real gripe with the movie was the dialogue. Some of the scenes had shitty lines, others had shitty acting, but this is Star Wars after all, and that is to be expected. And whoever said that this shows Lucas's weakness as a writer and director is obviously new, and doesn't realize that this is the same in every Star Wars movie, and that these movies have made Lucas [b]BILLIONS[/b] of dollars...
Padme was poorly done in this movie though. She went from being a fearless fighter in Eps 1 and 2 to simply being a plot device here. She just sat around while everything happened around her, like a piece of meat sitting on a sidewalk that everyone just walks around. It was annoying, but it fit with the movie, so I guess it's ok.
Overall though, Anakin's slide to the dark was well done. I was annoyed that it wasn't a "click" and more a slow decent, but I think it worked out great in the end, and his internal conflict is evident right up until he gets worked by Obi-Wan. It also sets the stage nicely for Ep 6 when Luke can still feel the conflict within Vader on Endor. Cool stuff. It's nice that good and bad isn't so easily discernable in these movies, and that there are varying degress of good and evil. Move complex than I expected out of Star Wars, but most welcome.
More added later:
I think he realized that he crossed a line and that the Jedi would simply kill him for killing Mace. Anakin's powers are incredible, and allowing him to get away will killing a Master would not be allowed. Having someone that powerful being tempted by the dark side is too dangerous, as the movie shows.Also remember that this movie revolves around the fact that Anakin will do absolutely ANYTHING to keep Padme from dying. Palpatine says that he can give Anakin the power to prevent death, Anakin believes him and submits willingly. Once this choice is made, you can see how the dark side quickly begins to corrupt him, so that by the time he and Obi-Wan are fighting, he no longer sees the Jedi Order as keepers of the peace, but ruthless power mongers.It is such beautiful irony when Palpatine tells Anakin that he killed Padme (this after he gets the suit). He caused the very thing that he sold his soul to prevent. The internal conflict is so perfect at the end of this movie, and sets the stage for Anakin's final coup de grace against Palpatine in Episode 6. Holy shit, the more I write about this movie, the more I want to see it!
I was kinda shocked coming out of the movie. It was a great film, but it was much different than all the rest. Very gloomy and dark. Right from the start you can feel a sense of forboding that follows through to the end of the movie.
Obi-Wan fighting Grievous felt kinda tacked on because it was supposed to be tacked on. The only reason Obi went to fight him is because Palpatine told the Jedi where he was. They didn't have to kill him really (trade fed guys were already ready to leave after Tyrannus' death, others would follow). The point was to get the council not to send Anakin. That way A) Anakin's teacher/brother is gone so Palpatine can have his way with him, and B) Palpatine made it sound like Anakin was the right choice to go, and when he wasn't sent, Anakin was angry, just as Palpy wanted.
My only real gripe with the movie was the dialogue. Some of the scenes had shitty lines, others had shitty acting, but this is Star Wars after all, and that is to be expected. And whoever said that this shows Lucas's weakness as a writer and director is obviously new, and doesn't realize that this is the same in every Star Wars movie, and that these movies have made Lucas [b]BILLIONS[/b] of dollars...
Padme was poorly done in this movie though. She went from being a fearless fighter in Eps 1 and 2 to simply being a plot device here. She just sat around while everything happened around her, like a piece of meat sitting on a sidewalk that everyone just walks around. It was annoying, but it fit with the movie, so I guess it's ok.
Overall though, Anakin's slide to the dark was well done. I was annoyed that it wasn't a "click" and more a slow decent, but I think it worked out great in the end, and his internal conflict is evident right up until he gets worked by Obi-Wan. It also sets the stage nicely for Ep 6 when Luke can still feel the conflict within Vader on Endor. Cool stuff. It's nice that good and bad isn't so easily discernable in these movies, and that there are varying degress of good and evil. Move complex than I expected out of Star Wars, but most welcome.
More added later:
I think he realized that he crossed a line and that the Jedi would simply kill him for killing Mace. Anakin's powers are incredible, and allowing him to get away will killing a Master would not be allowed. Having someone that powerful being tempted by the dark side is too dangerous, as the movie shows.Also remember that this movie revolves around the fact that Anakin will do absolutely ANYTHING to keep Padme from dying. Palpatine says that he can give Anakin the power to prevent death, Anakin believes him and submits willingly. Once this choice is made, you can see how the dark side quickly begins to corrupt him, so that by the time he and Obi-Wan are fighting, he no longer sees the Jedi Order as keepers of the peace, but ruthless power mongers.It is such beautiful irony when Palpatine tells Anakin that he killed Padme (this after he gets the suit). He caused the very thing that he sold his soul to prevent. The internal conflict is so perfect at the end of this movie, and sets the stage for Anakin's final coup de grace against Palpatine in Episode 6. Holy shit, the more I write about this movie, the more I want to see it!
Sunday, April 24, 2005
The Triathlon, Part deux
Wow...a much different feeling than the one following the UBC Tri. First, the results (just so I have some place too look them up when I have to):
Swim: 14:45 (2 minutes faster than I expected)
Bike: 51:06 (ugh)
Run: 22:27 (Great as far as I'm concerned)
The swim was great. The whole experience of changing, waiting for them to call you and lining up felt very much like an epic movie soundtrack. Think Gladiator, the first scene where the Romans are fighting the Germanic barbarians. The music starts off soft, slowly ramps up, and reaches a fever pitch just as the cavalry smash into the barbarian army. Then, silence. Nothing but the sounds of war for 5 minutes as men attempt to kill men in the most basic of ways.
This is what the start of a triathlon feels like. I could hear the soundtrack playing as I donned my swim cap and goggles, and jumped into the pool. Waiting for the counter person to say "go," time seems to stretch on into infinity. Then you hear the word and everything stops: the race becomes your life. You leap into the fray. 7 or so other competitors, already in the water racing before you, clamoring over eachother, trying to finish their 28 laps (or 14, depending on your counting style) in as short a time as possible. All you can hear is water and yelling and cheering, but in alternating ears as one side of you head exits the water, then the other, in time with your stroke. It would be beautiful, if it weren't so chaotic.
Now, I swear I was on lap 10 of 14, when suddenly I see the yellow board in front of me signalling that I have one lap left. That was a shock, but I welcome one. I was feeling great in the swim. I was going fast, my stroke was perfect as far as I was concerned. I didn't feel like I had to gun it for that last lap, so I just kept on my pace. I hopped out of the water feeling great and ran to my bike.
The cycle portion was flat, except for a bridge where you had to cross over the highway (hwy 17 I believe). There isn't much to say about this portion expect that my mountain bike is in no way suited to road racing. I was pushing as hard as I could, and was still being passed by people. It is truly frustrating to know that you are being held from your true potential by something you have no control over (in the race situation anyway). So, my bike time was terrible. 240 of 296 competitors. Not good. I don't think I'll do another tri before getting a different bike. I think I could have easily shaved 10 minutes off my time with an actually road bike.
The run was great. I hopped off my bike, tightened my shoelaces, and ran like hell. I increased my cadence near the end of the bike portion (as a book told me to do: thank you Triathlon Training!) so my legs felt good (not wobbly). I reached a good pace and finished in a better time than the UBC Tri, so that was good. Oh, note to self: no black shirts, sleeveless or no. Too damn hot with the sun shining.
Today, the next day, I feel different. Last time it was the sense of completion, that I had reached the goal I had set for myself. Now I feel like I have been properly inaugurated into this incredible sport/discipline. I know how to improve my times, how to improve my performance, how to improve my technique.
I needed to sign up for a second Tri to get myself motivated to train again after March 13. Not anymore. I'm in this sport for the long haul now. I will train for the sake of training, knowing that every minute I put in will make me that much better at my next tri. I wanted originally to do one at each distance class, but now I'm content staying with Sprint dist. for a while and working on my times there. The best racer did it in 59 minutes... I can do that too.
Then again, he had a $2000+ bike.
Definately need a new bike...
Swim: 14:45 (2 minutes faster than I expected)
Bike: 51:06 (ugh)
Run: 22:27 (Great as far as I'm concerned)
The swim was great. The whole experience of changing, waiting for them to call you and lining up felt very much like an epic movie soundtrack. Think Gladiator, the first scene where the Romans are fighting the Germanic barbarians. The music starts off soft, slowly ramps up, and reaches a fever pitch just as the cavalry smash into the barbarian army. Then, silence. Nothing but the sounds of war for 5 minutes as men attempt to kill men in the most basic of ways.
This is what the start of a triathlon feels like. I could hear the soundtrack playing as I donned my swim cap and goggles, and jumped into the pool. Waiting for the counter person to say "go," time seems to stretch on into infinity. Then you hear the word and everything stops: the race becomes your life. You leap into the fray. 7 or so other competitors, already in the water racing before you, clamoring over eachother, trying to finish their 28 laps (or 14, depending on your counting style) in as short a time as possible. All you can hear is water and yelling and cheering, but in alternating ears as one side of you head exits the water, then the other, in time with your stroke. It would be beautiful, if it weren't so chaotic.
Now, I swear I was on lap 10 of 14, when suddenly I see the yellow board in front of me signalling that I have one lap left. That was a shock, but I welcome one. I was feeling great in the swim. I was going fast, my stroke was perfect as far as I was concerned. I didn't feel like I had to gun it for that last lap, so I just kept on my pace. I hopped out of the water feeling great and ran to my bike.
The cycle portion was flat, except for a bridge where you had to cross over the highway (hwy 17 I believe). There isn't much to say about this portion expect that my mountain bike is in no way suited to road racing. I was pushing as hard as I could, and was still being passed by people. It is truly frustrating to know that you are being held from your true potential by something you have no control over (in the race situation anyway). So, my bike time was terrible. 240 of 296 competitors. Not good. I don't think I'll do another tri before getting a different bike. I think I could have easily shaved 10 minutes off my time with an actually road bike.
The run was great. I hopped off my bike, tightened my shoelaces, and ran like hell. I increased my cadence near the end of the bike portion (as a book told me to do: thank you Triathlon Training!) so my legs felt good (not wobbly). I reached a good pace and finished in a better time than the UBC Tri, so that was good. Oh, note to self: no black shirts, sleeveless or no. Too damn hot with the sun shining.
Today, the next day, I feel different. Last time it was the sense of completion, that I had reached the goal I had set for myself. Now I feel like I have been properly inaugurated into this incredible sport/discipline. I know how to improve my times, how to improve my performance, how to improve my technique.
I needed to sign up for a second Tri to get myself motivated to train again after March 13. Not anymore. I'm in this sport for the long haul now. I will train for the sake of training, knowing that every minute I put in will make me that much better at my next tri. I wanted originally to do one at each distance class, but now I'm content staying with Sprint dist. for a while and working on my times there. The best racer did it in 59 minutes... I can do that too.
Then again, he had a $2000+ bike.
Definately need a new bike...
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Inaugural Post
Ok, a friend of mine at work (you know who you are) suggested the idea of starting a blog at myspace.com. I didn't like the idea of having a blog address at www.myspace.com/3865638238467593856300021223857590210 so I'm going for the more straightforward approach. I figure this place will become a diary/journal of sorts, something I've been wanting to make for a while since I need to keep track of shit.
I chose the name Atropos as a callsign of sorts for online gaming (In Greek Mythology, Atropos cuts the thread of life when you die; it seemed to be appropriate when killing people in Desert Combat and Jedi Knight II). Anyways, that's why I use the name. It stuck, and I like it. Maybe I'll name my dog Atropos one day.
Now, lets see if I actually use this space for something useful...
The Triathlon
In case you're wondering, this is where the "Aero Tires" part of my strange title comes in...
I was a lazy kid. I was also overweight...well, that's a bit of a misnomer. I had the spare tire and jiggly stuff all over, but no muscle. At all. So, technically, I was underweight. In 1998, after a few months of being yelled at by my stepmother to do something that didn't involve watching TV, I started working out at Gold's Gym with High School friends. This was back in grade 11, the end of March to be exact.
5 years later I was still working out at gyms, but liking it less and less. Over the course of a few years my workout intensity grew, in that I was constantly trying to kill myself physically. I wanted to work out to the point where I couldn't move if I wanted to. That was the sign of a successful workout, to me anyway. My feeling of satisfaction slowly declined however, and by the time I was done University, I had pretty much given up gym workouts.
Fast forward to August 2004 (one year after my last real gym workout). I saw the recap of the Pentiction Ironman Triathlon and the look of absolute fatigue on those peoples' faces, and decided instantly that I had to try it.
The only problem was, I wasn't in great shape...
Rollerblading to work during the summer had built up my cardio strength to a respectable amount, but I've never been able to run for very long due to a bad (read: totally fucked) leg. I decided to give it a shot though. One summer day I decided to take a quick run around a highschool field near my house. It sucked, but it was the beginning of a ridiculously painful, long journey to my first tri.
The Triathlon is in interesting event. Anyone can do one. All you need is a bike, some shoes, and a pair of shorts.
I had shoes.
I had never swam. I went to the beach and pools and stuff, but I had never done a length or lap of any sort before September. If there is such thing as a perfect swimming technique, I was doing the exact opposite. I flailed, I sank, I drowned. I thought I was going to die after doing 25 meters. It was shitty, but I was determined to learn, so I simply toughed it out and built up muscles that I hadn't used before.
I had no bike, but with the decision to try a Tri, I commandeered my mom's bike. It creaks and groans for some reason, but it works. I could definitely use something better, but I'm sure as hell not going to complain. If nothing else, it was free.
My initial goal was to simply compete in and finish the UBC Triathlon, which was March 13th. That gave me about 6 months from the real start of my training to get into good Tri shape. Only, I didn't know how to guage my progress, having never done a Tri before. So, I assumed I would never be in good enough shape and proceeded to put my body through the rigours of daily runs, rides, and swims. However, as my skills in the 3 disciplines improved, my goals changed. I went from simply competing, to wanting to finish, to wanting to finish with a good time, to wanting to get first place in my division. Little did I know that by the time March 13 came around, I would be physically prepared to do a much longer Tri.
As a result, my first Tri was too easy. I placed in the middle of the standings, which was fine. I competed in a Triathlon, and I finished, which was what a I wanted from the start. However, something was missing. It was a lot of fun, but not hard enough.
I got into this discipline hoping that it would fulfill the need I had for intense physical exhaustion. Seeing those people finish the Ironman, barely standing, I wanted to have that feeling, for looking and feeling like that would mean that I had given it my all, with nothing left to spare. I did not come out of my first Tri with that feeling.
So, here I am again. April 23. Delta Triathlon. Same distance run, but twice as long swim and bike than my first Tri. Lets see how this one goes...
I was a lazy kid. I was also overweight...well, that's a bit of a misnomer. I had the spare tire and jiggly stuff all over, but no muscle. At all. So, technically, I was underweight. In 1998, after a few months of being yelled at by my stepmother to do something that didn't involve watching TV, I started working out at Gold's Gym with High School friends. This was back in grade 11, the end of March to be exact.
5 years later I was still working out at gyms, but liking it less and less. Over the course of a few years my workout intensity grew, in that I was constantly trying to kill myself physically. I wanted to work out to the point where I couldn't move if I wanted to. That was the sign of a successful workout, to me anyway. My feeling of satisfaction slowly declined however, and by the time I was done University, I had pretty much given up gym workouts.
Fast forward to August 2004 (one year after my last real gym workout). I saw the recap of the Pentiction Ironman Triathlon and the look of absolute fatigue on those peoples' faces, and decided instantly that I had to try it.
The only problem was, I wasn't in great shape...
Rollerblading to work during the summer had built up my cardio strength to a respectable amount, but I've never been able to run for very long due to a bad (read: totally fucked) leg. I decided to give it a shot though. One summer day I decided to take a quick run around a highschool field near my house. It sucked, but it was the beginning of a ridiculously painful, long journey to my first tri.
The Triathlon is in interesting event. Anyone can do one. All you need is a bike, some shoes, and a pair of shorts.
I had shoes.
I had never swam. I went to the beach and pools and stuff, but I had never done a length or lap of any sort before September. If there is such thing as a perfect swimming technique, I was doing the exact opposite. I flailed, I sank, I drowned. I thought I was going to die after doing 25 meters. It was shitty, but I was determined to learn, so I simply toughed it out and built up muscles that I hadn't used before.
I had no bike, but with the decision to try a Tri, I commandeered my mom's bike. It creaks and groans for some reason, but it works. I could definitely use something better, but I'm sure as hell not going to complain. If nothing else, it was free.
My initial goal was to simply compete in and finish the UBC Triathlon, which was March 13th. That gave me about 6 months from the real start of my training to get into good Tri shape. Only, I didn't know how to guage my progress, having never done a Tri before. So, I assumed I would never be in good enough shape and proceeded to put my body through the rigours of daily runs, rides, and swims. However, as my skills in the 3 disciplines improved, my goals changed. I went from simply competing, to wanting to finish, to wanting to finish with a good time, to wanting to get first place in my division. Little did I know that by the time March 13 came around, I would be physically prepared to do a much longer Tri.
As a result, my first Tri was too easy. I placed in the middle of the standings, which was fine. I competed in a Triathlon, and I finished, which was what a I wanted from the start. However, something was missing. It was a lot of fun, but not hard enough.
I got into this discipline hoping that it would fulfill the need I had for intense physical exhaustion. Seeing those people finish the Ironman, barely standing, I wanted to have that feeling, for looking and feeling like that would mean that I had given it my all, with nothing left to spare. I did not come out of my first Tri with that feeling.
So, here I am again. April 23. Delta Triathlon. Same distance run, but twice as long swim and bike than my first Tri. Lets see how this one goes...
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