Well, I'm very curious how tired and achy I'll feel tomorrow. For now I actually feel fine.

I've been itching to try a fast 5km run, so that's what I did this morning. It really didn't feel like it was going well, my heart rate stayed fairly low, I was breathing very hard, and it didn't seem as fast as I'd hoped. In the end, though, my time (25:39) was just seconds longer than my personal best. On the one hand, I was aiming for a new personal best, on the other, essentially equaling my best time on a morning when things were just not going right isn't so bad. Also, I was pretty much totally wiped out when I set that best, today, not so much.

After a few hours and some food, I figured I'd go to the Pettit Center. I'm going to be running a half marathon there at the end of January, so I really ought to do some running on the track that encircles the ice. 11 laps is 4.95km, and 27:30 at a easy-feeling pace is not bad at all for me. I'll have to try some different clothing to find something just right for the temperature in there. The rubber running surface is nice even if it is worn-looking, and just as skaters get to watch the runners, runners get to watch the skaters, so while it's endless loops around the oval there is at least something to see.

Then after a short break I went out on the 400 meter oval ice for a half hour. Now I remember why I like that so much. A long-track speed skating oval is, after all, meant for speed. It's huge, there is lots of space to go fast. Nothing like coming around one of the turns and seeing 100 meters of mostly clear ice ahead. I can never resist applying all available power. I mostly spent the time getting used to skating again after the summer away from it. A few hundred meters backwards (love having the space for easy backward skating), some slow skating, some bursts of speed, 500 meters at maximum effort, and general fun.

The last two mornings have been clear, sunny (in the sun-just-rising sense), and around -2°C. There's a sliver of moon high in the sky, the sun peeking above the trees shines on everything, and the grass is frosted white with frost, making a weird pastel green-white color. It makes for a very pretty bike ride into work. The ride home is in the dark, of course, and though the air is warmer with no sun and the cold sky, it doesn't feel any warmer.

( two photos )

OK, in the vein of some things I've been saying:

( Frazz )

I have just read what is an excellent paper overall (so I won't name it or the authors, since I'm making fun of a tiny part of it here), and noticed in the methods section their list of the settings used for collision-induced dissociation in their mass spectrometer. The list includes the notation "atmospheric gases." Atmospheric gases? Perhaps that's more commonly known as "air." There is nothing wrong with using air as your collision gas, I've done so in related work and it's as good as anything else you might use, not to mention inexpensive. No, what I have a problem with is using sixteen letters in two words to say "air."

While I always say you can't really see anything from inside a car, this isn't literally true. One thing I saw on the way home from OVFF was a man walking along the side of the highway with his can of gasoline, headed back toward his car. It was a Volkswagen, actually. A classic beetle, in his case. Not that this brings back any memories or anything. ("No problem....") He passed me later, driving at high speed.

The temperature in Milwaukee hit 22°C today, which is highly unusual for this time of year to say the least. I went downtown by bicycle, ate at the Public Market, rode around by the lake shore, and generally had a nice time out in the warm sun. There were a lot of people out. As summer turns to fall and fall wears on into the season of cold and dark, the number of people I see out on the way to work drops from the summertime six or eight cyclists and even more joggers and walkers to maybe one other cyclist and a die-hard runner or two. Everyone has been hiding indoors for some time now, and they all came out at once when the one day of record warmth came. It was just fun to see other people out again.

Last month I was jokingly wondering how much running you can do while still claiming that running is not your sport and you're really not that into it.

Anyway, I've signed up for a formal, organized, official half-marathon, to be held at the end of January in Milwaukee. INDOORS! Because in Milwaukee in January, you probably don't want to schedule that for outdoors. It's held at the running track that surrounds the indoor 400-meter long track speed skating oval at the ice center.

I have actually run 21.1km once now, on my own. It took me 2:05. The thing about doing some sort of sport like this on your own is that it's not obvious how you compare to others. Now, the easiest number of all to look up is the world record. It takes just seconds with google. The record times for full marathons, twice that distance, are just under that time. Well! The record for the half marathon is 58:33. I'm not sure I can run that fast at all, even for 100 meters. It's like the pro cyclists averaging speeds in a time trial that I cannot reach at all without a steep hill to descend.

World records aside, as far as I can tell a two hour half marathon is, if not a great time, basically reasonable for a beginner.

For all that I used to claim to not like running, I have come to like it. Some sort of competitive urge sets in to try to set better times or take on longer distances. For me it's much more of a pure athletic thing than the bicycling. Mostly I'm going somewhere on the bicycle, and want to save some energy for whatever I'm going to do when I get there, and for the trip back. Out in the real world, you go pretty fast on a bicycle and thus quickly encounter intersections, traffic lights, stop signs, and all that. A fast trip home from work is partly a matter of luck at the intersections. Lots of red lights and the trip will be slower. Bicycling involves a lot of thinking about traffic and how to navigate through it safely.

Running is slower, especially for slow runners like me, and it's easy enough to zig-zag around the neighborhood for 21km without ever having to stop anywhere. It's a pure athletic event, no navigation, no traffic safety, no destination at all. Just the Garmin on my wrist with the speed, distance, time, and heart rate data.

The thing about admitting that I like running is that I'll have to stop making fun of those crazy runners and their crazy sport. No more claiming that it's crazy to run twenty kilometers when a sensible person would get on a bicycle and ride one hundred-twenty kilometers, or would ski 20 km at a temperature of -20°C. Anyway, somehow, when written down like that, my old favorite activities don't really sound any less crazy than the running.

I managed to spend $76 on gasoline last month. Previous month: $12.55. Something of a shock to suddenly spend so much time in the car.

Much of that was the 1512 kilometer round trip to OVFF, taking 21 hours and burning 15.8 gallons costing $42.71. (Yes, 4 liters/100km. Helps not to be in a hurry. Obeying the speed laws helps, too.) It always feels very wasteful burning a month's supply of fuel in one long weekend, even if the fuel cost is pretty much negligible compared to the other trip expenses.

Given enough time to not be in a hurry, the driving isn't actually all that bad, as annoying as driving usually is. It is strange, though, traveling so much yet seeing so little. You really can't see anything from inside a car. It always feels weird to drive again after being away from the car for a week. You can't enjoy the trip, you have to pay too much attention to safe movement. Even making good speed on a bicycle you can wave and say hello to the people you pass by. Not in a car. Can barely see people at all, can hardly be seen by people in there. The drive to Columbus passes through what seem to be scenic areas, but it's hard to tell.

What is it like to pass over a river in a car on the interstate? You see the sign with the name of the river. If you glance to the side, you see, for a few seconds, the concrete wall at the side of the bridge. Up above that treetops can be seen. There is a gap in the trees in the middle, which presumably is where the river is, though the actual water is usually invisible, hidden by the concrete of the bridge. In fall the trees are all yellows and reds. I bet it would be pretty if only you could see it.

I noticed a while back that while cycling I see the faces of the people driving the cars that are stopped at the cross streets, yielding to the traffic on the road I'm on. Yet when I'm in my car, I never see the people. Either way I'm looking at them evaluating whether they are indeed stopped or if they are headed out into my path. What is the difference? On the bicycle I'm looking at them as I'm about to pass at 20 or 30 km/hr, to see if they are going to pull out and smash me. I see them up close. In the car I'm traveling at 50 or 60 km/hr and I've looked at them from a couple hundred meters back, too far away to see the faces. By the time I'm close enough to see the people, it's too late for me to do anything at the speed I'm traveling anyway, and I'm looking hundreds of meters ahead at the next threat. Never see the person. Just an anonymous metal box. Notice how we say things like, "be careful, that car over there might turn left." Well, most likely it won't on its own. The human driving it might decide to turn left, though. But you can't even see him. On rare occasions there are loose nuts in the steering mechanism, but usually the loose nut is the one behind the steering wheel.

What a fun con!

( long... )

The big concert with folkmew and friends.

Toyboat's concert.

( and one other photo )