Old friends, new friends

I've worn Converse sneakers since the latter part of high school. I love them. And any cool kid knows that with Cons, the worn look is the way to go. I bought my last pair while living in Texas, which means they are now about 175 years old in human years. They even look like they were present at Gettysburg.

Over time, the canvas has been no match for my wide feet. They've put up a good fight, though. Although they're now sufficiently ventilated, there's a small piece of fabric holding one side of the right shoe together. It's the difference between a sneaker and a flip flop. So, during my recent holiday road trip, when my aunt took me to the Citadel Outlets in Southern California for a little Mall Madness, I stopped in at the Converse store to see if I could tempt myself into a new pair.

I've always worn black, but was thinking it was time for a new look. The black will always be classic, but I had my heart set on something different. The white ones looked good, but would have been too jarring of a change. "What about navy?" my aunt asked. I tried those on, walked around some, and was sold. She then grabbed the shoebox and proceeded to the register.

As we (read: she) went to pay, I told her, "You know, you just bought me a gift I'll put to good use over the next decade." She laughed. I think she thought I was kidding.

***

Altogether, we spent five hours at the outlet shops. At each store, I found an item or two I wanted to treat myself to. But against my protests, she snatched them out of my hands each time. Holding out her credit card, her consistent response was, "I get points." That's great, but you still have to pay for all of this. Too bad there wasn't an Apple Store...

I know she loves and misses me and genuinely enjoyed practically treating me to a new wardrobe - and lunch! But like most of my extended family, I'll forever be seen as "Little Brian." And of course, I am a poor grad student. I did manage to lose her at Ann Taylor late in the afternoon to buy a few new shirts on my own dime. Then she bought me new pants. Sigh.

***

I haven't thrown the old black pair away. Yet.

Ho ho ho

I was not the worst Santa ever.

That's what one customer told me at PetSmart today. Apparently, the Santa at the PetSmart in Wisconsin wasn't very good.

The Santa outfit fit reasonably well. The belt was a joke, however. It was definitely made for someone larger than a size-32 waist. My two "elves" didn't like the look of a skinny Santa, so they stuffed a couple of pet beds up my shirt before we got started. Problem solved!

There was one lady who stood out from the rest this afternoon. Her dog's name was Bella, short for Isabella. (As opposed to the other dog named Bella, presumably after the chick from the Twilight series because of the age of her owner.) Bella's mommie was bat-shit crazy. Certifiable. As in, makes me weep for the future of the human race.

Bella was wearing her Christmas outfit, which, I'll admit, isn't so insane. She's had her photo taken with Santa since she was 4 months old. And she has even appeared on a magazine cover. Impressive! I should have said, "So have I!" I wouldn't have mentioned it was on the cover of Alaska Economic Trends, though, haha. Then again, I was Santa, not Brian. It's best I didn't say anything.

The crazy thing about this woman is that she came in for a reshoot. She had visited another PetSmart, but they took a portrait photo instead of one in landscape. Okay, we can fix that. But she took advantage of the situation, taking dozens of her own photos along with the ones taken by our photographers. She even brought her own dog-sized sled for Bella to sit in during the shoot.

And you should have heard her: "Bella, what's Santa going to bring you for Christmas? You just love Santa! Come on Bella, smile for me!" I had to put up with a half hour of this nonsense. The scary thing is that without her dog, she would appear to be completely sane. There wasn't anything wacky about her appearance. The crazies are blending in with the general population!

Besides her, the afternoon was surprisingly uneventful. I'd say at least half of the shots were multi-pet photos. And each time, I thought to myself, "Uhhh, how is this going to work?" The problem was that because of the pet beds up my shirt, I couldn't move around too much for fear of losing my gut. And those damn beds were HOT. I was sweating to death. But my mental mantra was, "It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause."

But it was fun! The photos turned out well. There were no allergic reactions. All of the customers seemed pleased. And, most importantly, my dampness was due to sweat and not cat piss. A good day.

feeling good

I'm almost done. My paper on the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, my last project for the semester, is 99-percent done. I just need a few more citations. And the presentation looks good. It will be highlighted with photos from the rez. I'm billing it as a combination of breaking stereotypes about Indian casinos and "Here's what I did on my summer vacation."

I don't know what I'm going to do with myself after Friday. Besides those citations, I didn't have any project work that needed to get done this evening. (Hence, this blog post.) And it feels weird. But I deserve the break. Plus, one of the professors I'll have next semester already sent out an e-mail about what to expect in January. Good grief. Like I'm even thinking about that.

***

A while back, I went to an orientation at the Humane Society to see about volunteering. My intention was to go over to walk dogs once a week. I like dogs and miss not having one. I only went twice before school took over my life. In that short amount of time, you should have seen the number of dogs I let escape from their cages to run free through the kennel.

But I'm making up for it on Sunday as I play Santa Claus at a local pet store. Yes, I'll be dressed in the whole Santa suit as I sit for photos with dogs, cats, and whatever other pets folks bring in. I wonder what the weirdest pet will be? I'm just hoping not to get pissed on. The afternoon's comedic potential is quite high. This could be one of the funniest things I've ever done. Stay tuned.

***

I finally kicked my running back into gear. Thankfully, we've had a warm, dry spell (temps in the 40s), so the snow line has moved way up the foothills. That means the trails are mostly clear. I really shouldn't go so long without running. And running on the paved Greenbelt just doesn't do it for me.

Speaking of running, I've pretty much decided I'm going to try my first ultra-marathon next summer. I think I can do it. I'm going to shoot for a 50-miler before deciding whether I can do a full 100 miles one day. There's a race in the Bay Area in July that I'm currently targeting. I need a big goal outside of school to work toward.

bullets of consciousness

• One class down, two more to go. There's still much work to be done, though, before I can celebrate. But I'm loving my end-of-semester projects. I'm going to try to save the world until the professor tells me to stop.
• Two weeks from today, the semester will be over and I can turn my brain off for a month. Just before Christmas, I commence my two-and-a-half-week road trip extravaganza without a care in the world.
• I'm spending Christmas with family in Arizona. I'm really looking forward to it.
• I saw 127 Hours tonight. It was just the pick-me-up I needed after a long week. Right.
• When I visit Canyonlands in a couple weeks, I promise to let someone know where I'm going first.
• We received about eight inches of snow earlier this week. Nothing major and it wasn't cold. But the street plowing here is non-existent.
• It's supposed to be sunny in Mission for the next week. I'm jealous.
• I haven't been running much and I'm not happy about it. I can't wait to catch up while I'm out of town later this month.
• I continue to dupe others (and myself) into thinking I'm fit for a long-term relationship. The carnage mounts.
• It'll be interesting what jobs are available in early 2012. Looking at what's been posted recently, there are some opportunities I would jump at.
• I still think I have one last move in me. And that's it. The next place had better be good.
• I'm not staying in Boise.
• I went to the dentist this morning. Is it just me, or are they continuing to invent more and more fancy gadgets and tools solely to find things that might be wrong with your teeth? And since when did the hygienist start hawking different products and services while you're having your teeth cleaned?
• I did like having the TV up on the ceiling to watch while the hygienist blasted the tartar from my teeth.
• I signed myself up for an interesting volunteer commitment in a couple weeks. I'll keep it under my hat for now, but it has the makings of a pretty funny experience. I'm such a giver.
• I've retyped this last bullet several times, then erased it. Best to keep some things to myself. It's been a weird week.

Vacation

I take the best vacations, if I say so myself. I always try to pack in as much as possible - places to see, races to run, people to see. But I somehow manage to do it all, even if it's a bit overwhelming. I think it stems from my time in Juneau, where getting down to the Lower 48 was a big deal. The continental road system opens up so many options.

I spoke with family in Arizona last night. And I decided I need to see them. Lucky me, I have a month off between semesters. That's no school and no work. So, I figure I have to go somewhere.

And that one simple destination has set off about a hundred dominoes. There are so many people I can visit, some of whom I haven't seen in ages (including my family, which is terrible, especially considering I actually like them). I've never been to any of the national parks in Utah, so that's an option. When you're prepared to drive a thousand miles for vacation one way, it certainly makes distances relative. And I haven't even looked into races yet! Hmmm... Maybe a nice sea-level marathon? Hmmm, indeed.

I still have a ton of work to do before the semester is over. But knowing I have a big trip ahead is great motivation. I'll try not to let the thought of traversing snowy mountain passes in my little car temper my excitement. (I was going to make a Donner Party reference here, but realized I'm traveling alone.)

Home

I love this song. It makes me happy. And the video reminds me of long-ago travels.

Sisyphus

I ran in the High Speed Pursuit half marathon last Saturday. I did end up driving down to check out the course beforehand. And I bought new shoes. I was on a mission.

The race began and ended at the Idaho State Correctional Institution, the prison south of town. The cool thing about this race, in my opinion, was that the prisoners participated as well. No, they weren't let out. They ran their laps inside the fence instead. But how awesome would that have been?

Based on prior years' results, I knew it would be safe to start near the front of the pack. Between the half marathoners and those running the 5K and 10K, there were about 400 runners total. I didn't want to get held up.

I got out fast. It wasn't really on purpose, but I did have the thought in my head beforehand that maybe I should change my slow-out-of-the-gate strategy. Well, it's less a strategy and more about self-preservation. Anyway, my subconscious and I ran the first mile in 6:16. And I was at 12:50 after two, which was also the point where the half-marathon and 10K courses split from the 5K course. Needing to average a 6:50 pace over the 13.1-mile course, I was already 50 seconds ahead. I was surprised, a tad excited, yet leery of the hill at Mile 12.

The course was great. Heading south along Pleasant Valley Road, we ran on the parallel tank track. Between running on dirt, the wide-open vistas, and the breeze, it reminded me of South Dakota. By the time I hit Mile 4 on Barker Road, my time was 26:30, still 50 seconds ahead. Turning north on Cole Road, I lost some time through the halfway point. There was a slight uphill, but it was nothing serious.

I don't know what my problem is in the middle part of these half marathons. Maybe it's losing the high of a fast start. It could also be a lack of focus. It doesn't take me long in a race to separate myself from both the frontrunners ahead of me and the pack behind. And Saturday was no different. It's possible my mind starts to think that I'm just on a regular run instead of in the middle of a race with a chance to meet a goal. Who knows.

Or, in this case, it could be that I dropped my hat on the ground as I was taking my gloves off. Silly me, I put my watch on over the glove, which made it nearly impossible to remove. So, as I'm trying to, no joke, tear the glove off with my teeth, I lost the grip on the hat I had already removed. That was about five seconds lost right there. Lessons learned: 1.) Take the gloves off first, then the hat. 2.) Don't be an idiot next time and make sure the glove isn't underneath the watchband.

There was a slight rise in the road before dropping down into the canyon. Through nine miles, I was exactly on pace. That was a bit disheartening considering how much my pace had slowed and thinking about the hill in three miles where a 6:50 pace would be impossible to maintain for close to a half mile. But I was still on pace after nine miles with a sweet downhill still to come!

It was at this point that a runner caught up to me, the first racer I had seen in six miles and the first and only one to pass me. He approached just as the downhill began, so I was able to hang with him for a bit. At the bottom of the hill, however, we turned east on 10 Mile Creek Road and I let him go. But it's not like he sped away. He remained within striking distance.

At Mile 10, I was 20 seconds ahead. I was excited! This could be the 1:30 race! Now, though, I was running into the wind. After another mile, I was 20 seconds behind. And I thought I had picked up the pace. It sucked. Plain and simple.

The hill began at Mile 12 and it was a bitch. I'm not going to complain about it because no one wants to run a completely flat, boring course. But it was brutal. I've never felt such desperation in a race before, knowing I was so close to a goal with such a huge obstacle in the way. And what a perfect place for the race photographer to station himself! (Click here for photos. Note the hill. And my face.) My legs felt like mush at the top, but, summoning my inner Lewis and Clark, I proceeded on.

I made the final turn onto the last straightaway with a time of 1:25. There were these huge yellow flags at the finish line and just five minutes to get there. I could see them from quite a distance, which just made judging how much further I had to run that much harder. I pushed and pushed, glancing down at my watch as those minutes ticked away. When I realized 1:30 wasn't going to happen, running a personal best was my new goal. And I did achieve that one at 1:30:27.

Twenty-seven seconds. I've got to say, I was pretty emotional about it. Not that I let it show. I let out a "Fuck" or two as my pilot friend, bless his heart, tried to cheer me up. I was so close. And I was ahead of schedule! After 10 miles!!! Even though I thought I was going to break down, I didn't.

The Pilot told me I came in sixth. We walked over to look at the results. Only the first four times had been posted ... and none of them were in my age group. Which meant that as long as the fifth-place runner wasn't between the ages of 30 to 39, I would take the age group, a nice consolation prize. The only problem was that he looked around my age. Then again, some runners age fast. There is such a thing as running too much. I hoped he was a hard-looking 29-year-old.

When the results were updated, I learned that Mr. Fifth Place was indeed in my age group. Figures! I just laughed and that actually made me felt better. When I looked up the results online later, I saw that the seventh- and eighth-place runners were also in the 30-39 group. We all finished within a minute of each other. That also made me feel good. About halfway through the race, I heard a couple runners talking behind me (which drives me batty). When I dropped my hat, I glanced back to see that even though they weren't right on my tail, they were still close. But they never caught me.

And let me not forget about the PR, my second this year. I shaved 12 seconds off of my Brookings time. It is an accomplishment.

There's another half marathon a week from tomorrow. Since I haven't registered, it would be $60 bucks to enter. I drove the course Tuesday afternoon and it is not PR material. Yes, it would be a pretty run. But for 60 bucks, I need more than fall colors and rolling hills. It's too bad because I think I'm at a really strong spot with my running right now. Oh well, I can start again next year.

I know I'm obsessing about this goal. How else can I describe it when I run the fastest I've ever run and I'm on the verge of tears. But I'd really like to get to this milestone.