From the streets of San Francisco

Last week, on one of those sort of wet and rainy days, I watched a guy approach the woman standing next to him on the bus.

"Hey, nice jacket," he said to her.

"Thanks. It's a great color and cheery on these gray days," she responded.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it. Well, except my cycling safety jacket is the same color."

Editor's note: her jacket was highlighter yellow.

****

Yesterday, I'm walking back to my office after grabbing lunch. There's a crowd of people on the street, most of them dressed in business attire. And then there's this guy - older, stocky, and wearing a black, ankle length robe-like thing. With something that I can only describe as a grass skirt wrapped around his waist. But the skirt went from about mid-chest to mid-thigh, and wasn't fringy but was more like a woven straw. It was secured at his waist with a narrow black belt.

He was accomapnied by a woman in a very similar black robe, sans the grass skirt. They seemed to be on a cigarette break. I hope his straw garment didn't catch on fire.

NaBlo No Show

It's the tenth of November and, for the first time in years, I haven't already written 10 often last-minute posts in an effort to participate in National Blog Posting Month. It's a fun month and there's an opportunity to win some cool prizes just for posting every day this month.

I took a pass this year, and I'm not sure why. I wanted to participate. I seem to have a lot to say these days. And yet I never signed up. I'm tired and a little cranky, and while I have a lot to say, I'm not too sure how to say it.

So it looks like I'll be staying mostly silent these days. But I will remember fondly NaBloPoMo 2008, and the day I went out, and stayed out much later than intended, and then sat in a restaurant at midnight, cursing the fact that my phone is just a phone, and that I couldn't blog remotely. Maybe next year I will actually write and post each day all month.

Rest Day Recap, the list edition

This week's training can be summed up in a nice little list:

1 sporadically working Garmin
2 sore shins
3 great walks
4 unexplained bruises
5 nights of outstanding sleep.

Week two made me think that I may really be well again. Or at least a lot closer to healthy than I've been all year. I'm sleeping better, eating well, and aside from all the bruises (at least one of which I think resulted from a clumsy middle-of-the-night, half asleep trip to the bathroom), I feel pretty good. I just need to figure out how to stretch better, because everything is kind of tight, and my regular daily stretches aren't helping. Perhaps I need to spend more time in the hot tub.

I'd also like to get a better handle on how much mileage I'm covering each day. I have a sense, but sadly, my Garmin - which is supposed to track pace, distance, and time, among other things, isn't working so well these days. The pace fluctuates wildly (because I know I can't WALK an 8-minute mile) and the satellite reception is sometimes really poor. On Saturday, I walked for close to a mile before the watch found a satellite and was able to start tracking my distance. A lot of times it fails to kick in before I've finished a walk. This is a little disappointing, but I'm doing some trouble shooting. Has anybody else had this problem?

Next weekend I'm competing in the Mermaid series 5K. Or maybe the 10K. When I registered a few months ago, I didn't think I'd be able to walk the longer race, but after covering close to six miles on Saturday, I feel pretty confident that I could do well in the longer race next weekend. The race directors for this series are usually pretty terrific, and I'm hoping they'll let me switch my registration.

But tonight, I've got Epsom salts and some hot water waiting for me. And hopefully no more bruises.

Autumn Aspen

Taken at Northstar in Tahoe on a gorgeous, warm day. Two days later, it snowed. A lot. Autumn is brief in the mountains, but it's beautiful while it lasts.

Rest Day Recap

I took my first long training walk on Saturday - 4.5 miles along the water from Crissy Field to Ft. Point. I love this walk along the Bay, from the Marina to the tip of the city under the Golden Gate Bridge. Our weather had been just spectacular; sunny, clear, and warm, with no fog in the morning and staying clear and warm at night.

But not on Saturday. Saturday morning the fog hung thickly over the city, and my beautiful view was rather obstructed.

You can't tell, but this is the Golden Gate Bridge. Honestly.

Despite the weather, my walk was awesome. I managed negative splits until the last mile, when a run-in with a friend slowed me down a little. I did the walk in just over an hour, and I'm thrilled. I also felt terrific afterwards, and not at all tired. I've noticed that my hip flexors and IT bands are pretty tight still, but much better than they were a few months ago. Overall, my first week of training was pretty exciting.

I'm having a really hard time in other areas of life lately, and I'm excited for the half marathon training because it's given me something positive to focus on, and some structure in my day. Tomorrow is a hill workout, which most likely will be done in the evening. In the semidarkness. I really don't like Standard Time.

In honor of the World Series

The grounds crew at Yankees Stadium (or at least at the old Yankees Stadium, may it rest in peace) performs the YMCA at every home game. It's one of the best shows in baseball.

Speedwork

I love speedwork.

There, I said it out loud. The odd and uncomfortable notion of walking at a regular pace interspersed with walking at my race pace, then back to normal pace, is really kind of fun. Or at least it was today. My five minute intervals along the Bay on my lunch break were awesome. The sun was shining. Tons of people were out for runs and walks. And the Bay Bridge was closed, so that part of the city was quieter than usual. And I walked negative splits. I even, briefly, broke a 13 minute-mile pace. Today proved that maybe I really can walk a half marathon in February.

Now, my five minute intervals increase to six minutes in two weeks, and then to seven, and they ascend until I'm doing 14 minute intervals for about an hour and a half. I may not feel so happy in a few weeks, or when I'm out there in the rain, but today was fun.

Intercessions

A good friend is getting married in a few months, and I spent the afternoon today at her bridal shower. I know both halves of this couple, and I've met their friends and his parents, but today I got to meet the extended family.

Now I'm the guest at any party who will undoubtedly make friends with the gay guys and anyone in any sort of religious order. I'm not sure why this is the case. I've destroyed set-up opportunities with this behavior. The bride-to-be is still annoyed that I spent one party talking to her gay friends and totally ignoring the guy she thought would be perfect for a set up.

Since it was a wedding shower it was a female only event, no guys were present. But I struck gold with the religious. The groom's family is very large, and very Irish. And his aunt, a nun with the Dominican order, was a blast. And so were her four friends from her community - women who have been close with the family for decades. I ended up sitting next to them for a good portion of the afternoon, and we had a surprising amount in common. They knew some of the nuns and priests at my church; one of them had worked near where I went to college; the list went on for awhile.

And, as the conversation usually does at events like these, we eventually got to talking about my relationships. One asked if I was married. When I replied no, she asked if "there was anyone special in my life," and then commiserated with me when I mentioned the perils of dating in this city.

We were wrapping up our conversation as I was leaving, and this nun and her friends bade their goodbyes. They said they would look for me at the wedding, and they said they would pray for me. In my quest to find a date. A few extra intercessions would go unnoticed, they said, and you never know how it might help me.

I briefly wondered if I should ask them to pray for something else instead - world peace, perhaps? An end to hunger and violence? The repose of my dad's soul?

But I quickly changed my mind. I told them a dozen girlfriends of mine would also appreciate their prayers. And I've now got half a community of Dominican Sisters from Mission San Jose on my case. Divine intervention is now really possible.