Training Archive: PGIn the 7 days ending 2007-09-21:
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Friday Sep 21 | ||
| Note | ||
| Boy, I'm falling behind on my AOWN reports. The latest was a red fox, spotted as I was nearing the 2nd green, the fox was coming from the woods just west of the green and didn't seem very concerned about my presence. But it seemed so unscared that it made me start to think about what might be wrong with it. And by now I was on the east edge of the green and it was on the south edge and getting quite close to me.
So I thought about my options, and fortunately this is an area where I have lots of experience, namely club selection, and I pulled out a sand wedge. It wasn't an obvious choice. I'd have maximum reach with my driver, the smoking D1, but I'm less accurate with it and under conditions of close combat and high stress I suppose it's conceivable that I might whiff, even though a well-delivered center-of-the-clubhead blow would certainly knock Mr. Fox back a bit. Whereas the sand wedge, I love the sand wedge, really accurate with that, but with the 56 degrees of loft and a heavy flange it's really better suited to, say, beheading copperheads (not that anyone would want to do that). But the sand wedge it was. And I could see Mr. Fox noticed, because he must have figured I wanted to play -- he trotted into the sand trap, sat down, and scratched himself for a while. I assume he was an elderly male? I still was nervous, still had the wedge out. And after a bit, Mr. Fox trotted around a little more, looked at me for a while, sat down and scratched some more, and then eventually trotted off in the direction of the tee. My conclusions: 1. If it didn't have rabies, it certainly had fleas. 2. Maybe I should start packing some heat when I head out. I've heard a 9mm is effective, I wouldn't know, the last weapon I fired was about 40 years ago and I think it was a 90mm, it was sticking out the front end of a tank at Fort Knox, and if a 9mm is just 10% (or even 1%) as potent as a 90mm, there wouldn't be anything but a few wisps of fur (and maybe a flea or two) left of Mr. Fox. | ||
Thursday Sep 20 | ||
| track 12:51 [4] 2.0 mi (6:25 / mi) | ||
| shoes: Montrail #2 | ||
| A short session at the track. The group was doing either 3 or 4 x 1 mile, 8:30 cycle. I did the first one a little quicker than I meant to (6:26, very even pace), then the second one (6:25) felt hard enough that I didn't have any desire to do a third. Although, more to the point, I was a little nervous about my calf, which seemed mostly ok, and I didn't see any reason to push it.
Nice evening, nice group, wish I'd been healthy (and motivated) enough to be doing this every Thursday the last few months. Off to the Sprint Finals and Relay Champs tomorrow. Hope JJ remembers the loudspeaker.... | ||
| track 8:16 [2] 1.0 mi (8:16 / mi) | ||
| shoes: Montrail #2 | ||
| Before and after, testing the calf. Nice thing about the track is if you have to stop unexpectedly, it's not very far back to the car. | ||
Tuesday Sep 18 | ||
| Note | ||
| weight:135lbs | ||
| Still felt pretty crappy today.
On the bright side, I am slowly making my way through the biography of Einstein, maybe one-third done, which is much farther than I thought I would get (my initial prediction, had I made one, would have put one chapter as a respectable accomplishment). Along with some interesting stuff, and some physics that I can't pretend to understand, imagine my surprise to run into a neighbor of mine, well, not exactly a neighbor of mine, rather a neighbor of the g. I'm talking, of course, about h, Planck's constant, apparently one of the other famous constants in the universe. And when I think about h, not that I have thought that much about h, three things strike me: -- h is really old. Not just in that it was discovered over a hundred years ago, but the fact that it's really being around forever. Whereas the g, a 21st-century discovery, can only trace its roots back to the 1940s. -- h is really small. 6.626068 × 10-34 m2 kg / s. Makes the g seem almost obese (even if it doesn't have any superscripts). -- and, they're still not sure exactly what the value of h is. h must really envy the g, it just has to get on the scale each day. All this makes me wonder, is there an f? And what's it like? | ||
| C • Lots of free letters out th... 8 | ||
Monday Sep 17 | ||
| Note | ||
| weight:134lbs | ||
| A fair amount of intestinal distress after yesterday's run, plus a sore right calf, so no running for a couple of days anyway. | ||
Sunday Sep 16 | ||
| trail running 56:35 [3] | ||
| shoes: Montrail #2 | ||
| From the gate, a tour around Mt. Toby without going to the top -- steady climb up to the hairpin, then down to the S curves and rolling terrain the rest of the way back.
Lots of AOWN sightings, all of the two-legged variety, seemed to be lots of people out, though none of them seemed to be moving faster than a very slow walk. I imagine Barb would have recruited them all to orienteering. I imagine Charlie would have handed them all loppers and have had them all cutting laurel. I imagine JJ would have amazed them all as he rode by on his unicycle. I imagine Kissy would have gotten into interesting conversations with their legs. I imagine Boris would have known most of them already since he seems to know everyone. And I imagine Swampfox would have, well, you never know what he might do.... But I, unsociable fellow that I am, just kept moving. Though, on the way up the first long climb, I did acknowledge with a smile a fellow who said, "Looking good." Because you never turn down a compliment. | ||
Saturday Sep 15 | ||
| trail running 41:27 [3] | ||
| weight:135lbs shoes: Montrail #2 | ||
| Up to the power line (17:41), and then a little farther. The idea was to see how far up the steep part I could run, though that would have taken more willpower than was available today, so I guess I ran as far up as I could today, under the rule that only a modest amount of pain and suffering was allowed. Made it this far, top of the short really steep pitch just after the trail changes to single track. And right there happened to a nice spot for a campfire, a ring of stones already there, never noticed it before.
On the way up I was thinking about the run, and not feeling very excited about it, and trying to think up a reason to stop short, say at the power line, but not really coming up with anything. On the way down the mind was free to wander, and it wandered back to the course this morning, and the guy I was playing with brought along the son of a guy that works for him, let's call the son "Tom" (because that really is his name....). Tom is a good golfer, plays for the local high school team. As it so happens, I'd met him before, the day before the Pawtuckaway weekend when I was playing with Charlie and Gail, and Tom was right behind us, and he waited for us to get off the green, but not for us to get very far away from the green. And when instead of hitting a nice soft shot to the green, he (mis)hit a low screamer that took a couple of bounces before nailing the cart that Gail was sitting in. Missed her by a couple of feet. So I waited for Tom to get closer, expecting that the first words out of his mouth would be "I'm sorry," preferably said several times, but his first words were actually a self-excusing and self-serving, "I waited until you were off the green." And then after a bit of a lecture from me, which I think Charlie would agree was reasonably restrained under the circumstances, the best he could do was a very tentative and not very sincere, "All right, I'm sorry." And when I reported Tom to the pro, the pro said he knew exactly who I was talking about, there had been problems before and he'd deal with it. So here I am 8 days later, about to spend several hours with him, and I wasn't happy about it, but I couldn't think of any way out. So I walk up to Tom and say something to the effect of, "Look, I'm putting everything from a few days ago behind me and starting over." Because I figured people have cut me enough slack over the years when I've been a jerk, and I ought to do the same. And we had a pleasant round, and some decent conversation. Though I still won't trust him absent evidence of a lot more good behavior. Now, I didn't tell my friend (the boss of Tom's dad) about the previous run-in. Don't know if i should have or not. | ||
| C • Tom 2 | ||