Four Grand Covered

Today, I threw myself fully into the commitment of reaching a running goal. It was perhaps a bit crazy to do since only a few days ago I could barely walk between my bedroom and the kitchen, due to extreme back pain. To make the recovery process even worse that day was having the disruption of some workers drilling and banging around, installing fiber optics lines in the building, disallowing me any rest. There was an unsettling pop between my shoulder blades and neck when the tension finally released itself. Thankfully, I smartened up enough physically today to go through with this. It was imperative that I did it today, since I hate breaking promises to myself, and for the fact that the water fountains and facilities along the trails will be shut down after the Labour Day long weekend.

I needed to take a 17 kilometer route to complete this goal. It's not the length of these runs that intimidate me. Physically, there isn't much difference in doing a longer run than a shorter one except being mindful to load up better with electrolytes, carbs, and to hydrate frequently. What the challenging barriers are for me to face while doing these long runs alone are the psychological ones. It's like going to war. It's dealing with the emotional baggage that begins to weigh me down. Things surrounding insecurities, fears, lack of confidence, self-doubt: they appear after eight kilometers or so, right about the time when the "runners' high" kicks in.

It's hard to explain what I go through during these long hauls. Throughout those moments alone on the trail, and during those minutes that I start pressing my body to persist moving on through the extra shock and physical aching and strain, there is triggered past memories that are laden with visceral feelings that were either really negative or traumatic experiences for me to deal with. Frustration about such problems turns into full on outrage for me to tackle and confront. I get faster and more powerful when these upsets enter my mind, adrenaline perhaps. The imagery I get provoked into thinking on what would be done to those sources and forces, my past and present enemies and adversaries, and the scenes of vengeance toward them get intense: imaginings of things done that would make Hannibal Lecter look like the Easter Bunny in comparison*. I force myself to keep on going to allow this anger to pass, and then I slip into a phase of being incredibly morose; realizing long after reflecting on this stuff about the right way of how I should or could have dealt with those problematic beings, instead of getting overwhelmed with all the issues of their drama, impudence, and stupidity. The morosity eventually passes, and then I begin to think about more positive stuff; what I want to approach when I finish this ordeal: be it concrete or abstract; simple things like joining my friend for coffee, my dog greeting me when I come through the door, the curiosities I want to read about and eventually research. Even if I didn't do my best after it's done, I get the satisfaction of knowing that I managed to somehow tough it out, and then I remind myself that I still have some resilience left in me.

I set the goal of completing 4000 kilometers of running before the end of this month, and I achieved it. Injuries didn't stop me, goofy schedules didn't deter me, and the threat of cancer a few years ago didn't dissuade me from starting this commitment to get fitter in the first place. So, I'm pressing on to achieve 5000 kilometers now: the highest ranking on Nike's run recording app. I'm taking this feat of persistence and resilience, and I'm going to apply it to serve as momentum for other meaningful changes I need to make in the months ahead.

* - Minus the eating of people.

Using Graph Theory, Creepy Tent City

It was just too hot to sleep last night; I slept like crap, and I woke up too late this morning to take advantage of more tolerable conditions for running. It's climbing up to the mid-thirties today temperature-wise: even hotter than yesterday. So, I'm going to relax today and recover from the strain of the gym work and running around I did yesterday. I was a bit too ambitious and overworked my arms. I can barely straighten them now. If I did hit the trails later today, I'd be destined for heatstroke and cramping. I have to smarten up and start healing right.


My scribbled out algorithmic representations
 of this city's trails and bridges.

Since I did my hard work Friday and Saturday, I thought I should do my smart work today. It was one of those good moments when I got the chance to blow the dust off of some obscure knowledge of discrete mathematics and graph theory locked up in my memory somewhere, and making it somehow meaningful. Extreme insomnia is often the cause and reason for jolting me into these deviations into harmless, yet eccentric, numerical explorations. I thought I should apply myself to it before my already too-tired pulpy mush of brain softens up even more from today's heat. I played around with some Hamiltonian circuits and weighted digraphs. I used that stuff to figure out the optimal path between points along my running routes which would constitute the most effective and ideal half-marathon training course for the sake of my own safety and efficiency. I should have been using this analysis ages ago, which could have spared me some agony, but I've been procrastinating. It's stuff I think I'll be using more often in the future to avoid some other negative extremes in training and personal logistics.

Speaking of extremes, the other observation my half-cooked mind is noting is how weird the vibe has switched over in the neighbourhood with the presence of some glaringly conspicuous newly erected monument to piety. The Seventh Day Adventist school across the alley from my building has went through some considerable effort and expense to set up sort of temporary compound of plain white large tents and awnings, all surrounded and visually shielded by a two meter high white tarp-draped fence. The sign outside of it calls it a "tour of the history of the bible"* or some such thing. There is this structure with towering gold-painted columns that especially looks freaky: like fucking Caligula was camping there. It's the noise element that's creeping me out most, or rather the lack of the noise you would expect and associate with entertainment when you see such structures. If you didn't know that this was some attempt by these people to fashion some kind of  'Jesus Circus', you would think it was a refugee camp, or that an emergency battlefield hospital was set up there as if an outbreak of some kind of plague was happening. It's very unsettling. I won't dare enter that place, no matter how curious its presence is making me. The weird setup of the fence makes it look ultra-secretive. The only impression I gather of what religious activity might be going on in there is the kind where cult members have their finally stop to drink their cyanide laced Cool-Aid. It's a disturbingly ominous looking setup, and I'll be glad when this thing gets all knocked down by the end of the month.

What little I know about the Seventh Day Adventists is this: they hold a more literalistic interpretation of the Bible, and more staunchly conservative (puritanical) than most other Protestant Baptist denominations. They abstain from alcohol and tobacco, they don't dance, and don't approve of immodest dress. Like the Jews, they observe Saturday as the Sabbath, and there is following the Kosher dietary laws (no pork, shellfish, etc.). I have no personal qualms with them. When it comes right down to it, I wish more of the dope dealing assholes would move out of the neighbourhood, and more Adventists would move in their stead. What does sicken me though about this setup of this Messiah Mansion, is that this too is proof of just how likely they are, as with any other religious group, to resort to using such a tawdry display as a meme-warfare tactic, despite appearing outwardly more conservative, to attract more followers . . .  of what amounts to be mythology. So many other things could have been done with that money and energy for real charitable work than wasting it on setting up this tacky showpiece; which I must add, has been largely vacant since it arrived here.

On Saturday, I was shamelessly sun tanning on my deck, less-than-modestly attired, in full view of the people running this show, drinking my beer, and snacking on some spare ribs and smoked oysters. In my own way, that's how I've been rebellious and defiant to the presence of this monstrosity.

*-  I highly doubt that this history includes a case for evolution. As kindly and civil as they may appear, when it comes to literalistic followers of scriptures in Abrahamic religions: be it Biblical or Koranic, I have no desire to waste my time with people stupid enough to actively refute the scientific evidence of evolution, and too sanctimonious to even bring it into question.

Found Passport, Found Wallet, Lost Summer

I'm surprised that I woke up as early as I did. The heat during the past few days has been a little too oppressive, and I've been finding it too hot to sleep. But I'm thankful that it has warmed up, and that we are getting a few prime days of summer now, even though they have come late. The beginnings of the yellowing elm leaves and the purpling chokecherry leaves are a signal to enjoy it while I can. There will be fewer and fewer days of enjoying my meals and refreshments al fresco on the deck. I try to eat outside as often as I can through the summer and early fall. Fresh air and sunshine really does make food taste better.

I'm glad I had a chance to have a brief escape to the lake on Friday morning. The trip really helped me so much to clear my head, and fix a few aches. The three hours spent there swimming*, stretching my legs, back, and hips in the water, meditating, and cruising around on a paddle board did more for me than the couple of weeks' worth of time off that I used previously combined.

I found a wallet this morning while I was walking the dog. It had no money in it, but the SIN card, pay pass credit cards; numerous redeemable pre-paid Visa and PIN-free gift cards left inside it led me to believe that it was lost; not stolen. Since ID was in it, I troubled myself to take it to the police station, and let them deal with it. I expect no reward, but if there is good karma for doing this, I hope it comes soon. Perhaps I was already pre-rewarded. Yesterday, I found a half-used Folk Fest passport on the street that someone dropped. One of these things costs fifteen bucks, and gets you through the various ethnic pavilions for the festival. I borrowed/recycled it to get a beer from Scottish pavilion, but I passed on eating there. Some of my ethnic ancestry is Scottish, but apparently it's not a big enough fraction of my constitution to make me appreciate Scottish food. I imagine that Scottish food must do something wonderful for the true Scots in conjuring up nostalgic feelings of home and hearth: because it sure as hell isn't eaten for the flavour. Turnips (neeps) are absolutely detestable to me, and haggis . . . well, I think I now know why the Scots have endeavored to take such great measures in crafting quality whiskey: to serve as both compensation and liquid courage if they were forced to constantly eat that stuff. I ended up dining at the Greek pavilion for supper. I wish now that I went to the German pavilion: where the best beer is.

From now until the end of September, it will be the time the season where I'd typically be plotting out my grander projects of personal home economics. OneNote and Excel will be my best friends for that time.

*-An exaggeration: for the record, I don't really swim. I have no absolutely no buoyancy; I thrash arms and legs wildly to deploy what I realistically call a "drowning prevention strategy"; but I don't really move anywhere. To be accurate, I'd say that I swim like a drowning cat . . . but after looking at my style and form, I'm sure that could be considered an insult to all drowning cats everywhere.

My Summer Reading

The sun is out, it's bright and the temperature is perfect. . . and yet I'm becoming disappointed. This is the first time it has felt really summer-like since this round of time-off began. The people I want to see this weekend are all out of town; given the lovely weather and dwindling days left of this summer, they would be crazy not to 'seize the day'. My time alone was spent just touring the neighbourhood on my bike, snooping around some of the yard and garage sales of this beginning of the end of the season for them. I'm using the remainder of today resting up from yesterday's excursion (and for tomorrow), and sticking my nose in a few magazines and books. Playing around with more puzzles and mathematics is making me veer towards subjects in science and tech. The material I'm reading is making me ache for having my own workshop or garage to use here.

Some of my light summer reading.

The lack of tranquility around the neighbourhood has been affecting me also. Today is the first day since my holidays began earlier this week that I've felt at ease and liberated, and with a clear enough mind to engage, challenge myself, and get immersed in some really cool projects - and now there is only today and tomorrow left of this stint of freedom. Another part of the disappointment comes from realizing that there is hardly enough time to completely follow through with any of the bigger plans and ideas I want to see manifested. I could try and rush to complete them, but all that does is add extra pressure, and defeats the purpose of setting the stage to focus on something intently to get into the zone of doing some really beneficial learning. When it comes to recreation, no one should have to feel rushed for anything. I really have to make it a point to take an entire month off for the next go around to accommodate for this.

The books I've been mentally chewing through with interest are:

Bicycle Diaries, by David Byrne - It's a bit surprising to learn that the former front man of the very successful 80's rock group, The Talking Heads, used, and continues to use a bicycle as his primary means of urban transportation, even in a city that's relatively hostile to cyclists like New York, where he currently resides. He shares some wonderful accounts and perspectives of the histories and cultural vibe he has experienced while cycling through various cities on this globe like Berlin, London, San Francisco, Istanbul, et al.

Vagabonding, by Rolf Potts - It's a book that lies between motivational reading, and practical survival guide for exploring the world abroad. It's a book for opening your mind to possibilities while on the road. It was interesting to peruse the biography, and to note that his beginnings were just as humble as mine were, and he turned his traveling experiences into his trade. It's a full of pointers about how to reach financial goals to allow yourself this freedom. It's not so delusional as to suggest how to escape work, but emphasizes having the kind of work that's meaningful to allow you to do this, and using to tie up lose ends. I currently have this book as a loan from the library, but I believe it's one that I'll end up buying.

Radical Abundance, by K. Eric Drexler - Don't let the title fool you. It's not one of those tomes about the Law of Attraction, Secret of the Universe, or other such airy-fairy material. The book is about the science and upcoming revolution of nanotechnology, and how it would radically change the world. I read Drexler's book, Engines of Creation, back in the early 90's, and noted his theories about what could be possible when we begin designing and building things from the atom and moving upward. Reading this book serves as a follow up to learn about what is actually happening in the field of nanotechnological R & D. The manipulation and fabrication of things on the atomic level, is akin to the development of the creative use and manipulation of bits and bytes in the digital information age, except there would be even more radical advancements if/when these ideas come into fruition. Be forewarned, it would help to brush up on some basic chemistry before you read this one.

Holy Lord T'underin' Jumpin' Jehovah!. . . Too Many Rollicking Frolickers, My Son!

I came close to covering a half-marathon distance in training today, just three kilometers shy of it. I did OK for the run itself, however the decision to do it was rather spontaneous, and I failed to have a sufficient carb and mineral intake to prepare for such a feat. Afterward, I was suffering with a bad migraine for much of the afternoon and early evening, either because of extremely low blood sugar or screwy blood pressure due to electrolyte depletion. It's finally starting to settle; just in time too, since my walls are starting to shake from the Newfie sea shanties blaring from the concert grandstand tonight*. Either the Ibuprofin or the bowl of salty popcorn I'm having for my late supper is making the experience tolerable. They are playing quite well actually. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have enough wits to stand the commotion of a 5000 person 'sociable'. Sadly, I can't enjoy a beer while listening to it right now; a shot of pickle juice will have to do (helps prevent lactic acid build up/cramping . . . it works instantly too).

The Newfoundlanders playing down the block, the brief visit with my relatives visiting from Victoria, the more extreme of the distance I ran today, and re-reading a comment in a past entry about the scale of our nation made me put all my accumulated mileage into perspective with respect to our geography. I calculated that the accumulated kilometers from all my recorded runs is a bit shy of the distance between St. John's, NFLD and Thunder Bay, Ontario. If I recall correctly, it's just about the same distance Terry Fox made it to before his demise from cancer taking the rest of him. It's a depressing realization; I hope doesn't serve as a harbinger for some sort of impending disaster. So, I'll track my progress starting from Victoria instead. I'm reckoning that by following the Trans-Canada, and then down highway 17 through Ontario, that my current placement would be somewhere between/around Sudbury and North Bay**. That's a better thought to have, since I know someone lovely who lives around North Bay. I should have something special in store for me like a celebration if or when I achieve the kilometer number what covers the distance from between Tofino, BC to St. John's: basically the breadth of the nation. I figure that would be around another 2,800 kilometers left for me to do.

There's just one more night of the left before they start packing up Sunday. I hope Saturday night passes without getting as crazy as all the other years.

*- Great Big Sea is playing tonight at the Ex.
**- The roads through the Shield get a little more bendy and hence makes my estimates less accurate.

This Round of Vacation Time

I was hoping to make the beginning of next few days off something more eventful and less dutiful and tedious than dusting, cleaning floors, reorganizing cabinets and closets, and scrubbing porcelain and tiles, but that's all it has been mostly so far. Vacationing is about doing what you can to bring about some peace of mind and a sense of satisfaction. Clearing and cleaning my space, and seeing things put into order satisfies me and brings more peace of mind: therefore it wasn't wasted time. I felt it had to be done first before I could move on with anything else. I correlate a clean and well-ordered home as a reflection of, or a least an attempt to allow for, a more focused mind.

The other meaningful thing I did was daring myself to seek company outside my regular social sphere. I used Meetup.com to find groups in my area with common interests. I wish I could find the right words to use to express my elation and satisfaction about finally finding and interacting with an actual group of people in this town who:

1. have many similar interests and values as I do
2. have higher ideals about well-being, and life-balance
3. actually deploy reason and common sense
4. understand what I'm saying
5. are people with whom I can speak to without having to dumb myself down 
6. actually read contemporary literature
7. aren't constantly stewing in/spewing out negativity and drama
8. aren't deluded and sanctimonious idiots, who act as if their shit doesn't stink
9. take ownership of their problems, and share successes and failures about dealing with them
10. who are actually supportive, cooperative and encouraging in another person's attempt at betterment

It's remarkably rare these days for me to meet an average person who can exhibit all of these qualities. My only regrets are: not finding these people sooner, and knowing that once I go back to my regular work schedule, my chances for meeting up with them will be rare.

I had my cable TV service re-installed a couple days ago. My HD receiver/PVR was upgraded; although there's now super-sized interface, with some features and options that add a bit more razzle-dazzle to viewing/recording, I still find that the channel selection is still limited and uninteresting. It made me seek refuge in the bookstores and library. I shouldn't be re-visiting such places, because I constantly overwhelm myself. I already have a personal mega-super-syllabus of reading materials of interest to me that I want to absorb, which I would already need several lifetimes to do. When I explore those bookshelves, I add to the inventory exponentially. I really need to have a more effective method of speed-reading.

Reading, napping, cycling, running, healthy cooking/eating, strength training, playing Jeopardy; watching PBS, TED, movies; drinking coffee/tea/beer, solving puzzles, meditating, language acquisition, painting, CAD and web designing, programming spreadsheets, list making, testing mnemonics, math problems, blogging, and avoiding the bullshit of the EX pretty much summarizes the remaining hours of leisure time I'll use for my next few days off.