2008

There were 123 posts published in 2008 (this is page 9 of 13).

Lost in the Woods

On Saturday, I got up for a long run in the woods. Normally I would have joined the marathon training group in Portland, but we were on our annual vacation in Sunriver, so I decided to be disciplined and run on my own. While my compatriots were scheduled to do a seven-mile road run, I tried to map out an eight-mile run on forest trails along the Deschutes River.

After a lot of fuss (I can’t seem to get out the door for a run without a lot of fuss), I left the rental house at 6:15. Before I headed out, I posted the following on Twitter:

On a long weekend vacation. Off for a solo 8-mile run in the woods. My biggest fear? Being eaten by a bear. I’m bear-phobic.

I was only half joking. I’m always worried of bears.

It was cold out. There was frost on the windshields of our cars. My breath was puffy. But I was bundled up against the elements, and knew that once I started running, things would be okay. I made my way along the paved roads to the beginning of the hiking path to Benham Falls. I had scrawled a rudimentary version of this Forest Service map to help me navigate the network of trails:

At first the run was difficult. Runs always seem to be difficult for the first ten or twenty minutes. The ground was a curious mix of too hard and too soft. Because it was below freezing, the dirt was crunchy. But the soil was also “airy”, with a lot of compression when I stepped on it. It was confusing &mdahs; my body was forced to make all sorts of micro-adjustments.

I followed my hand-drawn map along FS655 to FS600 and into the old campground. Everything was fine. I found the hiking trail along the river. But then things got a little hairy. There was snow on the ground. I continued along what I believed was the correct path, but found myself completely surrounded by a sea of white. There was not way to tell where I was or where I should be going. Yikes. I backtracked to a known landmark, and tried to figure out what to do. Eventually I found another path that seemed to go in the right direction and resumed my run.

I ran up the hillside and through the woods, occasionally having to deal with patches of old, crusty snow. (This stuff was icy, so I walked over it, and gingerly.) The brush along the side of the trail chewed up my ankles. I couldn’t really tell where I was.

Eventually I came to a long, wide straight path dominated by power lines. “This doesn’t look right,” I told myself. “I don’t think I’ve come far enough.” I pulled out my map. I couldn’t tell if this was the right place to head south or not, but neither did I have any better options. I couldn’t see that my current trail continued further. I followed the power lines south.

About ten minutes later, I encountered FS600 coming in from the side. “That’s strange,” I thought. “Aren’t I already on FS600?” I decided to have faith. I continued south on FS600. When it turned northeast, I continued to follow it. “Aha!” I thought. “This looks familiar.” I had run this path half an hour before. I now began to suspect that I’d taken the mini loop option marked on the map. (I was wrong, but I had the right idea.) But then I took a wrong turn and followed FS600 southeast to paved road 9702.

I was confused.

Ultimately I decided that I should just head north along the paved road, which I knew led to the campground. And it did. I followed the path up the hillside again and then southwest to the powerlines. When I went to pull out my map again, it wasn’t there. It had fallen out of my pocket. “Argh,” I thought. “I’m lost in the woods without my map.”

I wasn’t too worried, though. I knew that if I followed the Deschutes River west and south, I’d eventually come to parts of Sunriver that I knew. I was more concerned with continuing my run. Because I knew the powerline road had been wrong, I searched until I found another trail heading southwest. This trail led me to another confusing junction, but I was able to puzzle out the correct path, and then find my way back to the start.

I had run (and walked when confused) for ninety minutes. “I don’t think I’ve gone eight miles,” I thought. “Maybe I’ve gone five.” So I turned around and ran back the road I’d just travelled until I reached the river again. Then I ran home. It turns out my guess-work was about right.

When I returned to the rental house, I used MapMyRun to determine the distance I’d travelled. I had actually traveled 6-1/2 miles after ninety minutes. With my extra run to the river and back, I had brought the distance to 8.47 miles in one hour and 51 minutes.

Best of all? I hadn’t encountered any bears.

Pool Thugs

As part of my fitness regimen, I’ve been swimming once each week. On Tuesday or Thursday — whichever day happens to follow my upper-body weight-lifting session — I drive an extra fifteen minutes to go the gym in Oregon City. It has a pool. (The gym in Milwaukie has a pool, too, but it’s worthless. It’s more like a backyard frolic pool than a lap pool.)

I had some trouble at first getting the hang of the swimming thing again. Breathing was a real issue. I felt like I was drowning. One of my readers at Get Fit Slowly recommended nose plugs, and much to my surprise, they did the trick. I still sometimes feel short of breath at the end of a lap, but mostly I do okay. (I stop for about ten or twenty seconds after a lap to catch my breath. The guy swimming next to me this morning was doing the same thing.)

So, I’m slowly but surely getting accustomed to the pool. Today I did 1000 meters of mixed freestyle and backstroke in 28:14. Well, it’s not really a backstroke. I don’t know what to call it. I put my arms out wide, like wings, and then pull them to my sides.

Anyhow, all is well and good except for the thugs in the shallow end of the pool. Most of the time when I swim (but not today), there’s a group of surly men and women hogging the shallow end. They’re splashing around, running back and forth across the width of the pool, interfering with my lane.

“Don’t they move when you come through?” Kris asked me when I told her about them.

“Yes,” I said. “But it still bugs me. They’re not very quick.” That’s because these thugs are old thugs. Their average age is probably 70. Usually when I come into the pool, they’re milling around the shallow end as if they own it. I feel like I get resentful stares when I take my lane.

Today the thugs weren’t in the shallow end. Today the thugs were in the jacuzzi nearby. They were complaining about health, about Barack Obama, about local politics. The thugs are a bitter bunch.

Still, I kind of like the thugs. It’s good that they’re at the gym early in the morning exercising. I only hope that when I’m 70, I’ll be down at the gym, in the pool, annoying some young punk by hogging the shallow end.

Barackula: The Musical

Here’s my foldedspace philosophy right now: yes, I know it would be great if I had time to write all sorts of fun little stories, but I don’t really, so I’m just going to post whatever I find that I like. Sound fair?

For example, here’s a hilarious video I found via Airbag:

That’s better than eagles and goats, isn’t it?

Are Golden Eagles the New Dingoes?

Poor Kris. How’s she going to handle this one. She loves both goats and birds, but when you combine the two, which will she root for?

To me, it looks like the eagle is just a little bit spiteful, a little gratuitous in her attacks. But man, how cool is that? She carries off the whole frickin’ goat! Mothers, don’t let your children outside! I’m sure they’re not bigger than the average goat…

8 Miles

As I have for each of the past three Saturdays, I rose early this morning to go running. I’m participating in group training runs, with the goal of finishing the Portland Marathon on October 5th.

During the first two weeks, I ran with the slowest pace group and for the shortest distance. On the first Saturday, we ran four miles in about an hour. Last week we ran five miles in about an hour and fifteen minutes. It was easy. It was too easy. I complained to Pam, who is acting as my coach.

“You should bump up to the next pace group,” she told me. (I had not doubt that would be her recommendation!) “This weekend’s run is a trail run, anyhow,” she said. “Those are generally slower, so you should be fine.”

I rolled out of bed this morning and headed out the door. I looked sporty in my running attire: my old soccer shorts, a long-sleeved exercise shirt worn over my long johns, a stocking cap, and a pair of warm gloves. I was also wearing my brand new water belt (with a pouch for my wallet, keys, and iPhone!) and my new thick woolen “no-show” socks. I almost looked like a runner.

The trail run was held in Portland’s Forest Park, where parking is scarce. In fact, I had to park about a quarter mile from our starting location. It took me five minutes to walk down to where the group was gathering. I was cold! While I waited for the faster pace groups to leave, I pulled out my iPhone and sent the following to Twitter:

So cold! In forest park for 6 mile run. Near freezing. In shorts! At least I brought iPhone. Ha!

As the run began, I was worried. I was really very cold. My legs felt heavy. My stride didn’t feel right. I didn’t like the muddy trail. And I was breathing hard. But as I warmed up, things felt fine. After two miles, I was in great shape. As we continued to run, I felt even better.

When we turned around at the four-mile point, I moved to the front of the single-file line, where I could follow directly behind our group leader, Frank. I asked him how he knew what pace he was going. “I don’t really,” he told me. “I just gauge the speed by you guys. If you’re chattering, I know we’re going at the right speed. If you’re quiet, we’re going to fast.” He explained how to do a similar “talk test” when I’m running on my own. “When you’re training, you always want to be able to talk without gasping.”

I told him I was really enjoying the run. “It’s not hurting my knee,” I said. “I feel like I could do this all day. I may even go for eight.”

“How many miles did you run last week?” he asked.

“Five,” I said.

“Was that the longest run you’ve ever done?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“You should only do six miles today,” Frank said. “Six miles on the trail is like eight miles on the road. You don’t want to overdo it.”

But when he stopped to say farewell to the six-milers, I did not leave. “Are all of you up for eight miles?” he asked the five of us who remained. He looked me in the eyes.

“Yes,” we said.

For the last two miles, Frank picked up the pace, but only a little. That seventh mile was awesome. I wanted to be running by myself. I wanted to be loping along the trail, not jogging. I wanted to speed off on my own. “I can do ten miles,” I thought. “And maybe I will.”

But the eighth mile was more difficult. By the time we’d climbed the hill to our starting point, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor. I can run ten miles some other time. Besides, I had just run eight miles on a dirt trail in bitter cold. That’s three more miles than I’ve ever run at any one time in my life.

Found Photo: Patti’s Wedding 1982

While working a future post for Get Rich Slowly, I stumbled upon this photo by chuckp at Flickr. It’s entitled “Patti’s Wedding 1982”. I find it surreal:

The first thing my eye goes to are the power lines, which seem to be toppling in slow motion. Then I go to the children in the weeds. Then the array of cars by the side of the road. It all seems so…strange.

The photo is tagged: Wisconsin, countryside, wedding, guests, presents, highway, truck, station wagon, wedding guests, and landscape. I’d also tag it “alternate universe”.

Coming Attractions

“You know, I’m usually excited about the summer movie season,” I told Dave at lunch last week. “But this year, I have no idea what’s coming out.”

“There’s Iron Man,” he said.


Iron Man opens May 2nd

“Ugh,” I said. I may be a comic book fan, but there are limits to my enthusiasm. Iron Man seems targeted squarely at junior high boys. I have no desire to see it. “Doesn’t the new Batman movie come out soon?” I asked.


The Dark Knight opens July 18th

“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know. And isn’t there a Star Trek movie in the works? And another X-Files movie?”


Star Trek opens Christmas 2008


The X-Files 2 opens July 25th
Love the fan reaction in this vid. Makes me want to re-watch the series.

We must be getting old. This morning I did some research. Turns out there are a few movies that look interesting this summer. First up is the Speed Racer film, which Paul J. is skeptical of, but I think looks just like a Mario Kart game. Since I love Mario Kart, I’m all over this…


Speed Racer opens May 9th

My brothers and I loved Speed Racer when we were kids. Loved it. We didn’t have a television, so we didn’t get to watch it very often, but when we did, it was a treat. We also loved Indiana Jones. Can an aging Harrison Ford really pull of a fourth film? We’ll have to wait and see.

That’s the best they have to show us? Looks a little tepid to me. The following week, there’s a movie for my Kris:


Sex and the City opens May 30th

Comic book movies are a dime a dozen today. Too bad so many of them suck. Many people didn’t like Ang Lee’s take on the incredible Hulk — I did. All the same, I’m interested to see the new, revised version of the myth:


The Incredible Hulk opens June 13th

Okay. It looks dumb. Another film for junior high school boys.

Is there any hope for a good summer movie? Why, yes there is. Instead of going to see the new Batman movie on July 18th, I’ll be on my way to see this:


Mamma Mia opens July 18th

Meryl Streep? Pierce Brosnan? Colin Firth? ABBA? Damn straight, I’m there! (Long-time readers know that ABBA is one of my favorite guilty pleasures.)

Finally, I’m really looking forward to the new James Bond film, Quantum of Solace, which is due in theaters November 7th. I thought the last film, Casino Royale was the best of the bunch so far, and I have high hopes for continued excellence from Daniel Craig.

Finding Myself

I’ve been blogging full-time for six weeks now. It’s both good and bad. Obviously, I love the work. But as many people have warned, I’m going a little stir-crazy.

In my former life as a box salesman, I got daily contact with my co-workers, including Jeff and Nick. This is a small universe, to be sure, but it’s a universe. Now I go most days just saying “hello” to the folks at the gym. I need to get out more.

I’m going to look into some sort of class during the summer term. What should I take? Art? Computers? Personal finance? I don’t know. The truth is, I can do anything I want now. But what do I want to do? That’s a tougher question than it sounds.

One thing I know I need to do is work less. I ought to be able to get my blogging done in four to six hours per day. So far, however, I’m allowing myself to be distracted, mostly by e-mail. I stayed up until one o’clock last night, whittling my inbox down to 80 messages. It’s back up to 110. There must be a better way to cope, yet I know this is something that each person has to deal with on his own. I just need to find a system that works.

Part of the problem is that I want to give individual responses to everyone. That’s just not practical, though, especially when I get questions or requests that are longer than my blog posts! I end up shunting those aside to read later, but later turns into weeks, and then months.

I’m not worried, though. From everything I’ve read, the first few months of working from home are difficult. It really is like having a new identity. I just need to fumble around and find out who I am.

(As a postscript, I’ll note that I’m tremendously pleased with how I’ve incorporated exercise into my life. It used to be an afterthought — now it’s my top priority, even over my websites…)

Atonement

Kris and I watched Atonement tonight. It’s a movie about love and betrayal set in England between 1935 and 1940.

The film opens with a shot of an English manor. But panning back, we see that it’s not actually a manor, but only a dollhouse. Lined up in front of the house in meticulous order are a collection of various toy animals. Thirty seconds into the film, I paused the DVD.

“You see,” I said. “This is the kind of thing that could only happen in film. Look at that. Everything is too neat, too orderly. I hate stuff like this. The entire film’s going to be like this.”

I pressed PLAY.

Atonement unfolds slowly. But, paradoxically, things happen quickly. It’s difficult to explain unless you’ve seen the film. The cinematography is stylized, but not overtly so. Each frame is gorgeous. The composition of each shot is beautiful. So much can be revealed in short twenty-second scenes, and yet the story takes its time. The acting is nuanced. The script is perfect.

There were only three things that bugged me about this movie, and two of them would have gone completely unnoticed in any other film. (Example: In one scene, a police officer at the edge of the frame shifts in a strange way, distracting from the perfect composition. Very minor.) The third thing is a major flaw, but not a fatal one.

For twenty minutes in the middle of the film, there’s an extended scene during which one of the characters has an almost hallucinatory experience. (And maybe not “almost”.) This scene goes on far too long. Perhaps it needs to for the sake of the story, but somehow the film loses its tempo at this point.

That’s too bad, because despite my worries from the first twenty seconds, I thought Atonement was excellent. In parts, it was brilliant. The first 40 minutes (excepting that opening sequence) are almost perfect.

“I guess you can’t judge a movie by its first scene,” Kris said when the movie had ended.

“No,” I said. “I guess not.”

Postscript: I ♥ this review of the movie from Amazon: “Couldn’t understand what the British actors were saying and it jumped from one year to the next with no explanation. I had high hopes, but thought it was very mediocre.” Damn those British accents, and non-linear stories!

A Culinary Tour of San Francisco

As those of you who read Get Rich Slowly already know, Kris and I recently returned from a long weekend in San Francisco. It surprises me a little that my first-ever business trip was made for blogging, but it’s true. A startup company flew me and several other personal finance bloggers to the city to participate in a workshop about financial software. They hope to develop the next big web-based personal finance tool.

But that’s boring. That’s not why you all come to foldedspace. You all come here to read about our adventures. And we had adventures!

We flew down to San Francisco on Thursday, leaving the Portland airport around lunchtime. While we waited to board the plane, I was annoyed by a family with two young girls. The oldest girl — about five — was a chatterbox. The youngest — about two — kept running down the boarding ramp. Her father would let her stray away, and then only run after her when she started down the ramp. (Or, alternately, begin pressing buttons on a control panel.) Why wasn’t he minding her more closely? It was obvious to everyone that she was just going to go down the ramp again every time she strayed away. But the father watched her go, and every time had to run after her when she started down the ramp. Then, on the plane, the family was seated a few rows in front of us. They were noisy, but fortunately I’d brought my noise-canceling headphones. (Yes, I know this rant is going to get me into trouble.)

When we arrived in San Francisco, we spent the afternoon wandering around Union Square. The weather was lovely, so we sat in the sun for a while. In the evening, we met up with Cap and Jim, two other personal finance bloggers, for dinner at Café Claude. Though Kris was seated uncomfortably close to the table next to us, I had a good time meeting my colleagues. Plus, I was amazed at the tasty ahi tuna in green peppercorn sauce. Very tasty.

On Friday, I spend eight hours meeting and talking with my “imaginary friends”. You can read more about that experience here. In the evening, our hosts took us to a fabulous dinner at Kokkari, a Greek restaurant in the financial district. Wow! The menu was fixed, but that was okay, because we were provided with serving after serving of delicious food: olives, bread, lamb, beef, potatoes and more. The “charcoal-grilled, dry-aged rib-eye with braised greens and potatoes” was out-of-this-world.

On Saturday, we drove to Berkeley for my birthday lunch. Kris took me to the world-famous Chez Panisse, where we were seated by Alice Waters herself. This meal, too, was amazing, if somewhat understated. The restaurant was crowded (to be expected), but the service was top-notch. My pork leg and pork belly with asparagus were very tasty.

On our drive home from Berkeley, we were rear-ended by an unlicensed and uninsured driver. Since I hadn’t taken out the rental company’s insurance policy, this has turned into a big hassle. I’ve spent about three hours processing the claim so far, and there’s a lot more work to do. (You can read more about the accident here.)

On Saturday evening, we met Andrew and Joann for dinner at a restaurant just behind our hotel. Le Colonial is a posh French Vietnamese place with prices to match. Though the food couldn’t compare with Kokkari or Chez Panisse, it was still excellent. I had a delicious curried salmon. After dinner, we walked u-p to Top of the Mark for dessert. Somehow we managed to muscle our way to the front of the line and get immediate seating. We enjoyed a panoramic view of San Francisco while enjoying our sweets.

On Sunday, Kris and I walked down to the Asian Art Museum and spent several hours browsing the exhibits. In the evening, we joined Ramit at A Taste of the Himalayas for good food and good conversation. Ramit is one of the most inspirational fellows I’ve ever met. I’m pleased to call him a friend.

Because of our wrecked rental car, we felt like we needed to allow ourselves extra time at the airport, so we got up at 4am. Turns out the return process was totally blasé. It makes me worry.

As we were sitting at the gate waiting for our plane to arrive, I was startled by a two-year old girl who was attempting to run down the boarding ramp. “No way,” I thought. Yes way. The same family that had bugged me on our flight down to San Francisco was there for the return, too!

“Did you enjoy the trip?” Kris asked when we got home. “Was it worthwhile?”

Yes. Absolutely, yes. I met some of my colleagues, spent time with friends, and ate my way across San Francisco. All with Kris at my side. What could be better?