Cool new sharing unit

Check out my lap at Laguna Seca

Yeah, I'm going to take yet another run at blogging, again. This post isn't exactly the return I'd like. It isn't terribly articulate or complete. More appropriate as a FB rant, but it's too long. I promise to do a better job in the future, assuming anyone cares.

Due to challenging economic times, Citibank (a recipient of government bailout assistance, ie: your money) would like to inform me that they are making the following changes to my account: "blah blah blah....... "We are increasing your variable annual percentage rate (APR) to U.S. Prime Rate plus 17.99%" Currently, that would push the interest rate for purchases to 23.99%.

I don't carry balances, but over 50 million households do. Love how they did this right before Christmas, when most of those folks are likely to increase the balance they carry.

I'm all for personal responsibility, however, the regulatory environment for credit is ridiculous and stacked in the banks' favor, still. It just illustrates a fundamental point, one that has caused me to become more cynical about than I ever have been before. An institution, propped up by my money (our money) is empowered to gouge in order to make the debt service on the money I (we) loaned them. Too big to fail? Ha! Citi, Goldman, AIG, B of A, ALL should have been allowed to crater. The next time someone makes reference to the "free market economy" I'm gonna barf. The new era of privatized gains and socialized losses started in the W era not only continues, it's picking up speed.

P.J. O'Rourke said it best recently. What do you call a gathering of Goldman Sachs employees? Felons.

On NASCAR....

Throughout my life, I've been an occasional fan of stock car racing, now more appropriately labeled NASCAR as the vehicles have absolutely nothing to do with anything "stock". When I was a kid, the first race my Dad ever took me to was at Riverside where we watched Buddy Baker make an amazing comeback. I still remember being annoyed by Richard Petty's refusal to drive the chicane, instead plowing straight ahead through the dirt, an effective if inelegant way of shaving lap times. But hey, if you aren't cheating, you aren't trying.

And so it would seem at least that aspect of the sport has not changed. Adding to the controversy over NASCAR's decision to allow Toyota to enter the series, Darryl Waltrip's crew chief thought it might be an excellent PR move if he were to get his team kick off the grid after qualifying for it's first Daytona 500. No matter how widespread the practice, I'd be willing to guess that as a strategy to become "one o' the boys", this was ill conceived. But hey, this rocket scientist thinking comes from a culture in which the Fox announcer explained the new fuel tank size for the Car of Tomorrow (COT) is not based on volume, but rather on gallons. Huh? Perhaps Fox star Homer Simpson serves as technical consultant for the NASCAR booth. For all of you kids watching at home, if you'd like to make science class fun as well as accurate, catch an F1 race on SpeedTV this season.

So what's the rhubarb about Toyota competing in NASCAR? The list of arguments (or rationalization) is long. Most obvious is the visceral response from the stereotypical NASCAR fan for whom the thought of allowing foreigners to compete in the only all American racing series is akin to kicking Uncle Sam right in the fuzzy dice. Yeah, fine, let's not waste time on that one. Not wanting to sound like simple minded jackasses, some owners have attempted to take their argument up-market by arguing that Toyota's superior economic position as a company will allow them to outspend American teams and thereby gain an unfair advantage. First, let me point out that this strategy has been pursued by Toyota for quite a few seasons now in Formula 1. The Toyota budget exceeds $200MM annually, but for that investment they have received very little in return if one uses success in racing as the only yardstick. They shell out $20MM annually to Michael Schumacher's less talented sibling, Ralph, only to have him finish mid-pack, DNF, or crash. Renault, spending far less has managed to run away with the title for 2 years running. Money is a factor, but not the most important one. In the world's toughest series, World Rally Championship (WRC), Sebastian Loeb (arguably the best driver on the planet) managed to win the 2006 championship using his 2005 car and without factory support. He did this against the fully factory backed effort of Ford and Marcus Gronholm, who while not the best, is certainly one of the top WRC drivers. Secondly, if Chevy, Dodge, or Ford HAD the money, they'd spend it in a minute to consistently win the Nextel Cup. Why don't they have the money? This is a subject of some debate. The Big 3 will argue that they are the victims of over regulation, Unions, and runaway health care costs. GM estimates that they have to add $1500 to the price of every car they sell in order to meet the burden placed on them by health care costs. That position lacks introspection and imagination. The bottom line is that none of the Big 3 is building products that the American public wants to buy. All of them have been feeding at the trough of SUV. Despite their popularity, SUV's are some of the most poorly engineered vehicles on the road. The basic architecture was developed in the 1950's. Relying on the public's ignorance of such details, the Big 3 enjoyed enormous profits during SUV boom times but the days of artificially low gas prices are at an end and that's something that Joe Consumer does understand. Perhaps the SUV could have served to provide baseline revenue and profit strength but as the core of a long term strategy it's predictably a loser. So instead of reinvesting in new technologies and forward looking design, the Big 3 decided to ride the wave into the ground, investing instead in more production capacity for SUVs, production capacity being steadily scaled back and shut down these days. Fossil fuels are not renewable, their supply is limited and will run out some day. As the global supply trends downward, prices will trend upward. A quick lesson for anyone in Detroit reading. Instead of leading, Detroit finds itself constantly chasing. The focus should be on reversal of this reality, build me a car worth buying, and I'll buy it even if it does cost $1500 more than the foreign equivalent. GM shows occasion signs of life having stolen industry genius Bob Lutz from Chrysler. As soon as I have the jack, I for one will purchase a Corvette Z06. At about $70K the Z06 outperforms almost any car at any price. Add in price performance and it's not even a contest. Sure the styling still goes best with a mullet, but the engineer in my will not allow me to pay more for less. More recently GM has turned to it's foreign subsidiaries, namely Holden, to provide the company with fresh styling and performance. In 2008, Pontiac will launch the all new G8. Rear wheel drive and a 368 hp V8, available with a 6 speed automatic or a 6 speed manual, performance will be on par with the last generation BMW M5, and at an unbelievable price. If the fit and finish is of sufficient quality, this car could easily compete with the 3 series, 5 series, Audi A and S6, etc. Pontiac is also showing off a new concept, the Demon, designed to compete with the Miata directly. The Solstice kind of does that, but not really, it's a bigger, heavier car. I'm not holding my breathe though, over the past 10 years Pontiac has produced 3 VERY cool roadsters and has never built any of them. Actually, I would argue that of the 4 designs put forward, the latest is the least interesting (the Pronto was way cooler). The design direction at Chrysler is nowhere and when they do manage to come up with something really cool, like the Hornet, they don't build it or designate it for the European market. They have been relegated to last place with the departure of Lutz. Then there's Ford which builds exactly one cool car, but how many different versions of the Mustang can we be expected to tolerate? Ford Europe is in much better shape, but the super cool Mondeo isn't headed here, we're stuck with the Fusion. And while we're on the subject, I'd say that while Toyota is making all the right moves with the Prius, they're getting ready to make a huge mistake in it's Scion product line ditching all of the edgy style in favor of platform homologation.

The cars in the Nextel cup stopped having any connection to anything on the road years ago. The chassis are tubular steel, the engines are carburated pushrod V8's, the bodies are cut from templates to a standard shape. Remove the decals and you'd be hard pressed to differentiate between a Monte Carlo and a Taurus, certainly not the case with the production vehicles. The resemblance becomes even more distant with the Car of Tomorrow (COT), a new design which will see limited action this year to be phased in fully by 2009. The COT situates the driver close to the centerline, incorporates a rear wing, and uses a standardized body. The cars basically resemble those run in IMSA or TransAm series. So, what's the real reason for the protest over Toyota? Well, there probably isn't just one, but in my view those protesting come across as unwilling to put their money where their mouths are. Have Americans developed the most competitive package for this series? If so, then bring 'em all on and let's demonstrate some leadership to the rest of the world. If not, well, competition breeds innovation. It can only improve the sport and the series. At least Toyota can argue that all of the money they invest in motorsports eventually ends up in consumer products. When do you think we'll see a Ford with a seven speed sequential gearbox?

So, c'mon boys, invite Toyota in and beat them down if you can. The Big 3 need this because the same isn't going to happen on showroom floor for quite some time.

My year....

Too much: caffeine, work, stress, war, bullshit (mostly from politicians), incompetence (ditto), interest, debt, cholesterol, opportunity

Not enough: family, friends, guitar, variable comp., sleep, vacation, blogging, common sense, reading

Sounds kind of bad when I put it like that doesn't it? So, I've been pretty lax in keeping up with my blog. My last post was in October I believe. So, I'm going to get it all out here, in one massive post that two people might end up reading. I'll start with the simple stuff. I finished my second, and last (I mean it this time) marathon. I ran the Nike Marathon this year in San Francisco. Yes, I realize that the Nike is a "women's" marathon, but given the choice, I'd rather run with thousands of beautiful women than the same number of smelly guys. Thanks to Leigh DePuma (cool name) of Del Ray Beach, Florida, for helping me through the first half. She was a little too fast and bonked just before the half way mark in Golden Gate Park. I cut 20 minutes off of my first marathon time, although I fell short of my personal goal of 4 hours or better. It was at mile 20 that I decided that marathoning just isn't for me. Half marathon is now the new max for me. In 2007, I'll be running the San Francisco and the Nike half marathons, but by far the biggest challenge will be the Pike's Peak Ascent. 6K feet, straight up, biggest difference is that you start at 6K feet. Oxygen content could be an issue. So, even with my marathon career behind me, I'm still finding ways to potentially injure or kill myself. I toying with the idea of a triathlon as well. More on that later.

Enough of that. Here's my ramble on the people and events most important to me, and not just in 2006.

My family is amazing. I've always wanted my own family and now that I have one I couldn't have imagined the overwhelming love I have for them and the joy that they bring me. My wife Jody is incredible. Never giving herself enough credit, she has managed to mold the little guys into wonderful children and at the same time, continue to garner kudos for her work as a professional photographer. Jodes was published in a national magazine this year, The Knot, one of the premier wedding rags. You can see her work here, but the attribution for the photos is incorrect (I let them know). All of this while remaining the neighborhood's premier party planner and entertainer and hardest of all, putting up with me. This past year has been tough and I'm no picnic to live with sometimes. I do love her so. Calvin and Hudson just keep getting cuter. I know it won't last forever, so I'm trying to enjoy as much of it as I can while it lasts. Hudson started walking and like his brother, within a week, was running. As he figures out how to make off with his sibling's toys, I'm sure the conflict will increase accordingly. But, for now Hudson thinks his brother is the funniest guy in the world and Calvin loves having the built in audience, so all is right. The personality difference between the two is striking. Calvin continues to be a pretty cerebral kid (as it applies to a 4 year old anyway). He was born with artistic ability. While other kids were scribbling at 2 years old, he was able to draw figures and now that he has settled on being a lefty, his dexterity with the pen just increases. It makes sense, there are a couple of artists in the gene pool, including Jody's Mom, Rebecca. Calvin could sign 45 words and assemble sentences before he could speak. The Hudder, on the other hand, is a little more blunt. His parents have handicapped his ability to develop signing ability by anticipating his every need, so mostly he's sticking with the point and grunt. He made up his own sign for his pacifier which is hilarious, but other than that we've had very little success. He's much more likely to just whack you one if he doesn't like what you're doing. Last week Calvin was laughing at him and received a smack to the melon for doing so. He loves to hug and give zerberts, but is not consoled easily (or at all) by touch. They both have very cute giggles though, and they're the best part of my day.

My Brother is a guy I don't see nearly enough of. Our family was (and remains) a very close one growing up. Joey has managed to carve out a tremendous career for himself, is married to a fabulous woman, and is one of my favorite people. He lives in So. Cal not too far from where we grew up and as such time and space have conspired to keep us apart. I'm not sure how exactly to remedy this, but I'm going to devote some effort, there are only so many "next years". Joey and Dar, we're coming to Yellowstone for Christmas this year, so get ready. I see my parents more often these days, a happy byproduct of having kids. Nothing can keep them from their grandkids for very long, thank goodness. Grandparents are just much more fun than Parents, period. Not to discount the influence of the Holmans by any means. Buddy Josh still ranks as Cal's best friend and we nearly drove Bob and Becky over the edge this year, having spent so much time (although you'd never know it, wonderful as they are).

It was tough to keep up with all of my fabulous friends in 2006. It was tougher mostly because I have been working in San Jose for about a year now. Almost everyone I know, professionally, is in San Francisco. I'll be spending much more time in SF this year, so hopefully that situation will improve. Without trying to name all of them, several of my close friends, both new and old, were tremendously helpful in providing advice, council, and direct assistance in making it through the year. Saar Gur, Scott Sorochak, Jon Murray, Jim Green, and Chris Raniere continue to be constant sources of guidance. Bustin is out there hookin' me up (I think I owe him at least one now). Butler, Cass, and Linde all remain way to generous in a technical pinch. Gordie serves well as my alter ego, allowing me the opportunity to live vicariously as we discuss our frequent guitar and car acquisitions. There were a bunch of people I didn't get to see nearly enough last year and I miss them terribly. My entire team (and some of those not on my team) from Adteractive. Looking back I can say with confidence that 2005 was spent with the greatest group of people I've ever been able to work with and privileged to lead. 2007 must be the year that we pull together the alumni association. Lastly, but by no means least (quite the opposite actually), one of my best friends is leaving for greener pastures. Mike Abbott, written about frequently in my posts, has accepted a new challenge out of state. We've known each other for quite a long time now, and this year had the opportunity to work together again. Mike has served as my go to guy for technical and professional advice, sushi, coffee, and great conversation. He'll be a relatively short plane ride away and I'm sure he'll be around periodically for a while, but when things get cranked up, I don't expect to see him much in 07. Leaving is definitely the right thing for him to do, I was very supportive during the decision process, but I'll miss his presence for sure. Vaya con Dios Senor Abbott.

I'm gonna stop there. The formatting on Blogger can get quite long. Here's to a fantastic 2007. Let's hope that despite the continuing evidence to the contrary, cooler heads and common sense prevail the world over.

Peace.

Now I get it.....

I used to view as completely insane and dismiss almost immediately any parents group in pursuit of television censorship. But I must admit that I'm coming around on the subject.
The culprit is only indirectly related to the content of adult television programming. It's easy enough to shield my kids from viewing programs that may not be appropriate for them and I'm willing to take full responsibility for doing so. The issue I'm having is with the commercials run in juxtaposition to otherwise appropriate pregnancies. Without Tivo, it would be nearly impossible to watch a sporting event with my 4 year old son, something I've been looking forward to for years. Everyone will have an opinion as to effects of watching NFL football and violence involved, but let's put that aside for a moment. It's a game, we talk about it, it's fun and educational, trust me. However, during the break, most of the content consists of the following: corpses, and not in the abstract, I mean full on, bloody, mutilated or eviscerated corpses. Advertising for House, CSI, Law and Order, Criminal Justice, and any other of a myriad of crime based serials all contain this graphic imagery, at all times of day. Those same advertisements also contain imagery that involves weaponry, mostly guns and various people shouting at or threatening other people with weapons. Then there are ads for movies of which there seems to have been a major resurgence in horror films these days. Saw III, Chainsaw Massacre the Beginning, etc., also shown at all times of day adjacent to content, like the NLCS, that is in fact appropriate for kids. All of this is going on during a time when there have been outcries over Janet Jackson's boob, the GoDaddy campaign, and Paris Hilton having sex with a cheese burger. Do I have the same sensitivity to sexually charged advertising? No way. Americans are much too uptight about the subject in general. It's only our completely whacked out views on the subject that screw kids up. In any case, much of the content, like the GoDaddy campaign, takes a mature sense of humor to understand. It doesn't necessarily pander gratuitously to baseline human behavior. Paris comes closer, but I honestly don't think my boys would suffer the same trauma in viewing a catsup covered socialite as compared to the same, sliced into bits or shot point blank.

So, I'm pissed, disturbed, and otherwise annoyed with the political expediency of the FCC. Every so often I'll shift into Marge Simpson mode and fire off a mail (a snail mail with a stamp and everything) to some vendor who has failed to meet expectations. But this is different for me. I don't have a moment in my life to spare, but I feel compelled to make a concerted effort to change this practice of exempting paid advertising from broadcast airtime rules. Let's see what Mr. Family Values has to say.

Until then....

Athlete or fugitive?

It's was a little spoof game that I made up with friends years ago, kind of like slug bugs. Ever see a guy out for a run in his street clothes? Yeah, you make the call.

Disappointingly, my game continues to play out as real life in the NFL. You'd think that as other sports markets implode, the NFL would attempt to take advantage of the PR disaster. Alas, this is not the case.

Historically, the league has shown its willingness to excuse the criminal behavior of its players. This practice is by no means limited to the NFL. Something this twisted and epidemic has to start much earlier. From the maniacal parents out of control on the sidelines at pee wee soccer and little league, to coaches who assault players in high school football, to the bench clearing and sometimes deadly brawls in high school baseball, the culture of violence and bad behavior is pervasive. As we mature, we learn how to become better sportsman. Unlike children, we learn to keep the game in perspective, to win with humility, and be gracious in defeat. Right? Right. Before covering the current roster of the disgraced and disgusting, let's review a couple of Hall of Famers. There was OJ of course, but that's too easy. Here are a few of the lesser known losers: Warren Moon - quarterback and wife beater, Jose Canseco - MLB assclown, wife beater, and recipient of multiple arrest warrants for various charges, Ray Lewis - linebacker and murderer (allegedly), Nate Newton - lineman and drug smuggler, and who can forget Rae Carruth, the man with the foolproof plan to kill his pregnant girlfriend. From this group of heros let's review the new and improved crop for 2006.

First up, it's Koren Robinson who I'm ashamed to admit plays for my Packers. Koren has had a little trouble staying sober while operating machinery this year. When he's not catching passes, he spends his free time leading the Milwaukee police on high speed chases.

Not wanting to be outdone, Albert Haynesworth thought it might be easier to attract attention by committing crimes on the field. When Andre Gurode lost his helmet during a play, good 'ol Al thought he'd stomp on his opponent not once, but twice. I mean, hey, no one was looking right?

Then there's Ricky Manning, who is obviously the victim of a conspiracy. Seems that Ricky and his buddies don't like sharing their turf at Denny's with laptop toting nerds like myself. Irritated being juxtaposed with the intellectual? Ah, no problem, just beat that clown to within an inch of his life and fall back on the "it wasn't me" line. Don't worry, as long as you keep pulling in the picks, you'll still start on Sunday.

Just when we were past the wife beaters, Brett Myers to the rescue. Despite many witnesses who dialed 911, the Mrs. decided to drop the charges.

Last and definitely least is good 'ol Lawrence Phillips. Once the greatest football player in the history of the Nebraska program his troubles apparently began while still a student athlete (I use "student" loosely) where he was arrested for dragging his girlfriend down a flight of stairs by the hair. But with all the dough, errr pride, at stake for the Big 12 it just wouldn't be fair to bench the poor guy now would it? After being given a pass through "school" he was drafted in the 1st round by the L.A. Rams. Realizing he had been squandering his tremendous gift he put his life in order by committing a series of crimes. When Dick Vermile was unable to reach the young fella, he was excommunicated. Phillips had more or less disappeared from public view until August 12th of this year. After losing a pickup game of football, the superstar drove his car onto the field and proceeded to run people down, including 2 boys of 14 and 15.

Yes, I left out a few obvious example, like Lawrence Taylor and Todd Marinovich but space prohibits listing them here, which is really the point I suppose if there is a point. Actually, I'm having trouble summing this up other than to say that I continue to be stunned by the behavior of society where it concerns these idiots. I gotta go.

Happy Birthday to me.......

When I started this blog, I did so in conjunction with a trip to a foreign land, a radically different culture, the unknown, and inspiration was limitless. Since my safe return, I've found it difficult to publish on any kind of regular basis. I still overflow with random thoughts, but they don't often cross the emotional threshold that causes me to actually sit down and write. I think that this past weekend I may have discovered a source of constant, powerful inspiration. It's pretty straightforward, but clearly not for everyone. Here it is: Voluntarily subject yourself to subject yourself to situations that involve great physical duress, hypoxia, lactic acid build up, and potentially toxic side effects. That'll pretty much do it.

More specifically, last Friday, the 22nd, was my 41st birthday. I've been training for my second marathon for quite some time now. One of my best pals, the often referred to Mr. Abbott, suggested that we run the Mt. Diablo 25K Fall Trail Run, as a birthday present no less. OK, it sounds strange, offering up an afternoon of punishment as some kind of reward for surviving for 41 years, but we have this bond...never mind, you just won't get it. Anyway, I replied without hesitation, "Sure!". Neither of us, however, checked the fine print. Yes, it was only 25K. Both of us are capable of that distance without too much drama, Mike being much speedier than I. This particular race had one small detail that neither of us fully appreciated. 5000 feet of climbing. That's 5000 feet up, and even worse, 5000 feet down. By the time we realized what we had signed up for, it was too late, we had arrived. Neither of us was in perfect shape either. I've been battling a chronic calf injury since the San Francisco Half Marathon earlier this year, mostly because 250 lb guys aren't ideally suited for any kind of distance running, never mind the hill climb. Mike had recently competed in a half Iron Man from which he hasn't fully recovered, keeping some kind of opportunistic lung infection around as a souvenir. So, Abbott loaded up on Sipro, me without my leg brace (which had disappeared into a sea of laundry at home), and neither of us with the good sense to bring any means of carrying water on the trail. We both have jobs that require rational thought, honest. It was upon this last realization that we were told of the location of the aid station. A mere 8K up the trail, but that information was quickly followed by the side note that it would take us about 1 and a half hours to reach said aid station, so at least one bottle to carry was advised. Undeterred, we decided that the ambiance of the Bataan Death March would add to the experience.

As I scanned the parking lot for someone I could hit up for some sunscreen (yeah, forgot that too), I sized up the competition. Competition in these events is a catch all term to refer to my fellow participants. At my size and age, my only real goals are to a) finish and b) not die. So far, I've managed to accomplish both on each attempt. Yee ha. Sizing folks up is just a vestige from the days when I was a competitor. It's always interesting, however, to see the different types of people and physiques that occur around certain event types. Trail runners are a different breed from road runners. The best part being that they're much nicer. Everyone running in a trail run is openly supportive of his fellow competitor. I didn't pass one person on the way up who didn't give me a "good job" or "you're almost there". Before the race as well, the atmosphere is different. We met a woman who, like me, was celebrating her birthday by participating. Difference being she was obviously an actual running. Older than me I'd guess by a few years, but with the rail-like sinuey physique of someone who spends a lot of time on the road. That's the other interesting thing about trail runners. You tend to run into many more folks who are big distance runners, ultra marathoners and the like. All ages, pretty much 50/50 women and men, with all kinds of body types, the one common feature being a lack of body fat. There are people who appear "solid" but also many older competitors, the collagen fibers required for the chiseled look long since gone, but you know as soon as you're on the trail together, every one of them is going to leave you in the dust. I just love that there are so many of us out there doing it.

Eventually, start time came. Michael bid me farewell as he moved up to the front and off we went. I'd say we had a good 200 feet before we made the left turn onto the first switch back, and straight up. No warm up, arrive and drive baby. I managed to keep the pace as the fire road turned into a single track. Having been unable to locate my GPS since the half marathon, I'm not sure how far I'd run when finally I had to walk. The trail was just too steep and I noticed that the guy running in front of me wasn't actually gaining any ground on me as I walked. Walking didn't make it much easier, my heart rate was barely manageable, I just don't get the opportunity to train on hills like these very often if ever. We finally crested the first section of climbing after what seemed like an eternity. The single track once again opened into a fire road and the first decent. Being the first decent, my quads were still fresh so controlling my speed and maintaining balance on the loose gravel was work but doable. The decent wasn't very long and soon turned into rolling hills that in turn became a solid climb. The road leveled off at a campground where the aid station was setup. I had been running almost 2 hours with no water. The weather wasn't nearly as hot as it could have been, there was a breeze, but it was very dry. I forced myself to take on as much water and Gatorade as possible, along with a couple of bananas, cookies, and potatoes. After about 5 minutes, it was off to start the second half of the climb to the summit. It was nothing short of brutal. Departure from the aid station was deceptively pleasant, the breeze made it almost cold and the trail flattened out along the side of the mountain for a while, passing beneath the canopy out of the direct sunlight for a spell. That all ended soon enough as we passed above the tree line and into a narrow single track surrounded by high hedges of brush. The temperature was on the rise both externally and internally. The bloated feeling I had after pushing fluids at the aid station disappeared quickly as my parched insides quickly absorbed whatever they could. The sweat poured from the brim of my hat and my legs burned. The peak was in clear view most of the time, marked by a large observation tower and various antenna. Not that it helped, the summit loomed like a mirage, never coming any closer until just minutes from the top. Thankfully there was a water fountain to go along with the observation deck, the view was awesome but ultimately, the water was sweeter. A minute to enjoy the view and I started the long decent home. I was WAY too aggressive on the top section. I didn't work much to control my speed as I lengthened my stride and let momentum hustle me down the hill. I left the people who passed me on the way up far behind. I quickly reached the previously inviting breezy hillside. Funny how terrain can so radically change just by reversing direction. What seemed flat on the way up was suddenly a painful climb on the way back. I had some chest pain, my left arm hurt (or at least I thought it did) and thoughts of a widow-maker embolism in the middle of nowhere crept into my endorphin soaked brain. I was dehydrated, low on sugar and ATP. I thought about my family, just in case. I reached the aid station again, the course was shaped kind of like an upside down keyhole. The heat was up, the breeze down, so I forced myself to take on fluid again to the point of nausea. Onto the final leg, the long almost 6K decent down a very steep and winding fire road. They say that every mile of downhill can sap as much as 40% of your leg strength. That math wasn't adding up for me but now I was really in the middle of nowhere and there was no other way out. The steps became increasingly painful as fatigue set in, once again the fluid that had so recently almost caused me to burst was gone, my insides were like a desiccator.

Finally the road flattened out, for the first time in the race I was running on level ground. I actually felt pretty good so I picked up the pace a bit. However, having become a slave to my now missing GPS, I was unable to judge correctly the distance to the finish. I went too hard, too early. I ended up walking for about half a mile with Jake, a 22 year old triathlete and student at San Diego State. Yes, I felt great as a 41 year old crossing the line with someone just over half my age, but ultimately, I was just happy to finish (and not die). I am so sore today that I can barely move. Traversing steps takes mental preparation, I notice just how many steps there are in my life, 14 just to get to my bedroom. My quads feel like rocks (and not in a good way), my abs are sore in places I didn't know I had muscles, even my arms are sore. On balance, it's still a "good" sore though. I'm glad we decided to run the race, I'm stoked to have finished. 3:56 was my time. 61st out of 89 overall. So I'm confident as my second and last marathon approaches, this race being much more difficult than any other run I've ever attempted, including the San Francisco Marathon.

I'm not sure exactly what it is that drives me to do these things (other than hanging around Abbott). I think maybe Ferris Bueller comes closest:

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. You know what I mean. Peace.