License to Dream

Last night I dreamed that a neighbor of mine with whom I had worked on church assignments had a book store. It was part of some sort of big bazaar-like series of shops that was situated in a large open building like a high-school gym. I found out (it was as if I were thrown into the dream in the middle of it) that he had somehow stolen my driver’s license, so I went to his shop and yelled at him a bunch and got it back. Also, another friend I used to work with apparently worked in the book store.

Then it somehow happened again. I had to go get my license back from him a second time. Someone I knew who ran another shop (not sure if it’s a real person) lent me one of his goons because I guess the bazaar was all mobbed up or something. The goon was 6’3” and had red hair, so he kind of stood out. I instructed him to follow me at a distance because if we spooked the book store owner he would run. So I confronted this neighbor again, and he was very apologetic but somehow infuriating. For some reason I grabbed a book and went to the cash register. The owner shooed the girl away from the register, and I said the book cost $50, meaning he had to pay me $50 to keep my mouth shut because I guess this wasn’t an isolated incident. He didn’t want to pay me, so I said he was committing identity theft and got out my phone to call the police. Then my alarm went off.


So, yeah. No explanation for this one.

Huntsville

A few general observations before I begin:
  • Huntsville is a gorgeous little town. I would totally live there.
  • I'm glad I grew the beard before the race instead of after, given the cold and rainy conditions.
  • This guy was apparently trying to draft behind other runners, getting right behind them uncomfortably close. Not sure that did anything besides make people feel awkward. Run your own race, dude.

I left home at 5 to get there in time to board the bus. It was dark and rainy, and there was thunder and lightning at home. I worried that if that continued up in Huntsville the race would possibly by cancelled, but there was no way to know without showing up. So I make the hour and a half drive without incident. (It helped that I had done it the day before to pick up my race packet.)

I arrived at about 6:30, and it was raining in Huntsville as well. They had staff members directing us where to park. So I got my stuff together, which consisted of my belt with water and energy gels, and a bag with warmer clothes in case it was cold up the canyon where the race would begin. I wandered around for a bit until I overheard where the buses would load, then talked with some other people until the buses showed up.

We loaded up and made the hour-ish drive up the canyon to the starting line.It was foggy and rainy and cold up there at 9,000 ft. We were greeted by the long line of portable toilets that grace the starting line of every race.


They had put up a large tent for people to go in and stay warm until it was time to start, so I stood around in there for a bit and watched everyone's strange pre-race rituals. People were putting on clothing, taking off clothing, stretching, putting on some lotion that is supposed to prevent blisters, and just generally chatting. There's an interesting feeling of camaraderie among people before a race. You're about to have a shared experience, and everyone is at a different level of experience. It's friendly rather than competitive.

A few minutes before starting time we put our bags of extra clothing and such into a big trailer that would take them down and have them at the finish line for us. Then we walked to the starting line and waited for the last couple minutes. It was a small group, something like 350 people. The big races have thousands, which is a little much for me.

Then it was time to begin. It was raining a bit, but it wasn't too bad, and I enjoyed the first couple miles as it was all downhill. One of the organizers had said it was a 3,700-foot drop over the course of the race, so I was looking forward to a fast time. After about 3 miles I started to feel the downhill speed taking a toll on my legs, and I got a little worried that I would injure myself. But I kept going.

At the halfway point I was on pace to make it to the end in about 3 hours, although I figured I would slow down for the last few miles once we hit the bottom of the canyon. Every few miles was an aid station staffed by local volunteers, with gatorade and water and other snacks.

At about 16 miles I was starting to get tired. the rain had stopped for a while, and I was drying out. The constant downhill gave way to gentle ups and downs, and by mile 20 we were at the bottom of the canyon. 

It was at this point that I allowed myself to give in psychologically. I had probably "run faster than [I had] strength" early in the race, which is something I have done the first time I race at other distances. I stopped and walked for a minute or so, then pushed on to mile 21. Then I walked again for a bit. That continued for the rest of the race, with the running periods getting shorted and the walking periods getting longer. Around mile 22 or 23 it started pouring rain, enough that my shoes got all soggy. There were a lot of people around, because they had started the half marathon, 10k and 5k a while after our race had started. Usually that motivates me to keep going, but I was pretty spend. As I came around the final corner and saw the finish line I started running again, determined to at least cross it while running. My parents had come, and my mom was cheering for me in front of the finish line.

I crossed the line, collected my finisher's medal, and grabbed a drink. Then I got the most wonderful surprise that I could have hoped for – Katie had brought the kids. It was pretty awesome, and I may or may not have shed a few tears due to emotional exhaustion. 



We met back up with my parents, and my dad made me put on a warm jacket before I got hypothermia. It was still miserably wet, and there was nowhere to get dry. I sat in the cars for a while with the heat on, to warm back up. Then we discovered something fantastic. There was a barbecue restaurant right across the street from the park. So we had lunch, and then it was time to go.

My time was about 3:26, which is not objectively a bad time (about 7:52 a mile), but I felt like I should have done better. I was 5th out of 26 men in my age group, and overall #40 out of 335 finishers. 

So I'll take some time to recover (I can still barely walk), and decide if I want to go through all this again one of these days. If so, I'll figure out what I can do to train better, and see if I can make a better showing of myself next time. It's not so much where I finish, but whether I can feel I gave it my best effort. And I don't want to leave anything out there on the course like I feel I did this time.

Room for One More



Impulse buying is never a good idea. And when that involves acquiring a living creature, that makes things even more interesting.

A couple weeks ago we got the whole family into the van and went off to look at mattresses. Katie and I had been feeling that it was time for a new one, and Sam had been complaining for months about his. On our way home I decided to have us stop at the pet store to buy some frozen rats to feed Monty. While there, I played with a cat they had found abandoned outside the store with a litter of kittens. They were taking care of them and were selling the kittens, but the mom needed a home too. So we decided to bring her home.

I had been considering getting a companion for Dortmunder for a while. He’s pretty good with other cats and has made friends with a couple, so I figured he would adjust. When we brought the new cat home, we named her Vin. Vin is the main character in the Mistborn trilogy by Brandon Sanderson. She’s a small girl who was orphaned, but she becomes a powerful assassin. This cat is little but a prolific hunter, so it seemed to fit. And she likes being around us, but she’s not a lap cat, which also fits the way her namesake isn’t big on physical touch.

We mostly kept Vin and Dortumunder apart for a week, but when they met… it was not good. There was much hissing and chasing. As it turns out, Vin is actually the aggressor, which seems odd with her being the one coming into unfamiliar territory. The first night that I locked them in the garage together I sat out there for a while with the spray bottle to keep them separate. Poor Vin got pretty wet. Now every night Dortmunder just hides under the steps, and they still hiss at each other when they get close. I’m hopeful that eventually they will at least tolerate each other. But for now we’re at least happy to have Vin with us. As with any family member, you have to take the good with the bad.


It’s interesting that Dortmunder is good at catching mice (and birds), and Vin is an insect killer. So between the two of them, we should be free of pests. Even neighbor children, as it turns out—one of them tried to bring something back to our house and said Vin wouldn’t let him up onto the porch. That could come in handy during school fundraiser season…

A Star Is Bored

I had an interesting experience a couple weeks ago, and as my de facto journal this is probably the best place to record it.

I enjoy the sketch comedy show Studio C that airs on BYU Television. It’s family-friendly, fun, and probably some other nice word beginning with F. Fuchsia? Anyway, a couple months back they put out a call for extras, and I signed up without really expecting anything. Then I got an email saying I was in.

So on Thursday evening I went down to Provo for the dress rehearsal. Mostly I hung out in the green room with the other extras. We talked about the instructions we had been given for the different sketches, and there was a TV in there where we could watch what was happening on stage until it was time for us to go on. It took a couple hours to get to our sketch, but finally we went backstage. Someone from makeup powdered our faces a bit (any excuse to wear makeup!), and then we were on.

From what I had seen before, the extras usually hung around in the background acting like nothing much was going on. But we were actually seated at tables with cast members, which was fun. We talked for a minute before the skit started, then we ran through it once and were done. It was a little anticlimactic to be there for three hours to spend five minutes on stage, but that’s what we signed on for. Apparently they were running behind and expected to be there rehearsing until 2 a.m.

Friday night was a little more lively. For one thing, there was an audience there. We were still stuck in the green room, but we could see them having fun with the audience between sketches, and things moved a little more quickly. We managed to corral the director before going on and ask the big question we had: were we supposed to act like nothing was going on, or react normally to something happening in the vicinity? He said to act natural. I have no idea if I succeeded, and won’t until it airs sometime in October or November.


I’ll try to post an update later when it airs. In the meantime, let’s do lunch. Have your people call my people.

You say potato, I say poooooooooooootaaaaaaaaaaaaatoooooooooooo

I have a theory about how men and women communicate. As with all such topics, this is probably just something that might apply in general across a population, and may not necessarily be true for one individual man or woman (assuming there’s any truth her at all). But here goes.

As we go throughout our days and weeks, we build up a reservoir of things that we would like to share with other people. This builds up like a balloon inflating, with the pressure increasing. For women there is no escape from the pressure except to share it with someone. If they are able to share more frequently, less has built up; if it’s been a while since they have talked with someone, there’s a lot more to deal with.

Men, on the other hand, are leaky balloons. If time goes on and they don’t share something, it leaks out and is eventually replaced with other things. So there’s a constant influx of incoming and outgoing things as with women, but the balloon stays more or less the same size. The pressure doesn’t build up as much, so there’s less actual need to talk.


As with any analogy, there will be flaws here, but I think it’s interesting. What do you think?

A Tangled Web


It’s time for a moral conundrum! As if we need any more of them in our lives. But here we go.

The first summer after we moved in, we noticed these huge crazy orb weaver spiders that loved to build webs on and around our house. I found it quite charming and did what I could to avoid disturbing them. We were unable to use the back door for a month, unless we ducked under a spider web with a behemoth the size of Shelob sitting in the middle of it. I don’t have any particular fear of spiders, but crouching underneath one that could arbitrarily decide to jump onto the back of my neck can still be a little unnerving.

The next year they were not only building on and around the back door, but on the side of the house around the air conditioner. I’m fairly certain they didn’t actually rupture the copper tubing that was the cause of the Hot Mess that last summer became, but who knows. I decided to clear away the webs in the doorway, hoping they would get the hint and stop building there.

And that brings us to this year. Having taken over the back and side of our house, the spiders also began building on and around our front porch. Every surface became covered with webbing and tens of thousands of tiny corpses—the insects attracted by the porch lights. It was starting to look like the Addams Family lived in our house. And while I love them, I can’t rock a mustache like John Astin, so I finally decided it’s time to stop letting the spiders control my life.

Sam and I began clearing the webs off the house, and I used a large stick to transport spiders through the backyard and onto the other side of the parkway trail, where I hoped they would find someplace else to hang out. But there were SO MANY, I realized it would take hours. And the population would probably continue to grow every year. So here’s where the moral dilemma kicks in.

I’ve tried hard to help Sam develop a reverence for life. We try not to kill things, even when they annoy us (an important lesson for anyone with siblings). But I decided that I had to kill at least some of these spiders, or someday archaeologists would use lasers to cut through the massive petrified web surrounding the house, uncover our desiccated corpses, and try to reconstruct our lives. Seriously, one night we were out at 10:30 trying to gently clear away spiders from the garbage can to take it to the street.

So… last night while Sam was otherwise occupied, I cleaned all the webs off the house and killed the spiders I could. The house looks much better, and I slept just fine. I’ll just hope he doesn’t ask me where they all went.


Zombies vs. Aliens

Last night I dreamed up a movie plot that combines two popular genres into a surefire smash hit. Picture it:

Humankind is on the cusp of interstellar travel, about to begin in earnest the search for intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. Suddenly, an advanced alien race arrives and attacks the Earth, apparently intent upon destroying all life. There are no negotiations, only destruction. A rag-tag band of humans is fighting back, sacrificing their lives to give humanity a chance to survive. As the battle for the planet rages on, we discover that the aliens have a weakness. If only we can exploit it in time!

Our little group begins preparations to execute a devastating counter attack against the aliens, to ensure mankind’s survival and ensure his rightful place in the cosmos. As the time draws near, however, a new surge of panic spreads throughout the world. A new virus is spreading like wildfire, devastating the remnants of humanity. And not just humans. It affects plants, animals—every form of multi-cellular life. Even the aliens exposed to it in the course of the fighting succumb. This disease turns every form of life into a zombie!

Now the leader of our desperate band realizes why the aliens are attacking. They’re trying to prevent this devastating disease from spreading throughout the cosmos. This war is a merciful culling, destroying one planet to save countless others. Suddenly, our leader is faced with a choice, on which rests the fate of the galaxy. Does he execute his plan to defeat the attackers, at the risk that humanity’s survival will doom the rest of creation?


Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: Zombies vs. Aliens! Or, Sophie's Choice in Space.