Being such a music lover, most days the single most motivating factor to get my ass in gear to workout is the promise of blasting some booty-shaking music while I move. Not the fact that if I don't workout I'll look like an idiot during my race, not the truth that I need to get on it because I haven't ran/swam/biked for x amount of days - nah, none of that. It's really all about the music. And, alas the swimming! No music there yet, but maybe that's okay - the one sport of silence. Or something.
Anyway, here's one soundtrack that I keep coming back to - apparently I like poppy house music and breakbeats when I'm in the saddle. I realize that it's not that inspired, but honestly I don't care because these tunes work for me! And if I can sing along with them then so much the better.
Cycling - I generally start with a 10 minute spin to warm up, then 30-120 minutes more, 5-10 minute cool down. I like the songs for cycling with driving, intense beats, not really something you'd dance to (until the end) - mostly like a soundtrack for kicking ass.
1. Work With What You Got - Socalled - (3:00)
2. Do Your Thing - Basement Jaxx - (4:23)
3. Lose Control - Missy Elliot (3:47) - DONE WARMING UP
4. Can't Stop Me (club mix no rap) - Afrojack & Shermanology (6:21)
5. Never Gonna Come Back Down - BT (3:48)
6. Wild Ones - Flo Rida + Sia (3:45)
7. Titanium - David Guetta + Sia (4:05)
8. Battle Flag - Lo Fidelity Allstars + Pigeonhead (5:39)
9. Block Rockin' Beats - Chemical Brothers (5:15)
10. For What You Dream Of - Bedrock (6:28)
11. Busy Child - The Crystal Method (7:35)
12. Climbatize - The Prodigy (6:37) (this song is so great for when you're tired and think there's nothing left)
13. Keep Hope Alive - The Crystal Method (6:13) (this one, too, feel like a badass)
14. U Write the Rules (Solarstone remix) - Young Parisians (5:13)
15. Shake Senora - Pitbull, T-Pain, etc.. (3:35)
16. Bon Bon - Pitbull (3:36)
17. Superstar - Lupe Fiasco (4:51) - COOLDOWN
TOTAL time: 1 hour, 24 minutes
Friday, July 27, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Multisport Misconceptions
In training for my first triathlon I went from working out casually maybe once a week to 5-6 fairly intense workouts every week over the last 11 weeks. During this time I've learned a few things, mostly searching out answers online for how to feel/perform/recover better. A lot of the things I've learned fly right in the face of what I've always thought about swimming, cycling, running. So, in a way, you perhaps can forget how to ride a bike (or swim a lap, or run there and back)...
1. Swimming - My main misconception about the swimming part is left over from competitive swimming as a teenager. It was drilled into me that I should try to breathe as little as possible at the beginning, on the turns and at the end in order to keep a streamline and therefore, go faster, and definitely don't breathe every stroke. So I just tonight watched a video that instructs tri swimmers to breathe as much as they can, especially at the start (even every stroke if possible) to maximize oxygen intake so you can get through the whole swim better! I was so relieved to hear this because I've been struggling with breath in the pool. I still try to conserve breaths, only breathing every third stroke... I'm really excited now to get in the pool next time and breathe breathe breathe!
2. Cycling - My main misconception with cycling was less about the sport and more about my abilities - I feared that I couldn't get up hills or endure long rides. And now I can do both. Sarah K, who has been something like my sports shrink for nearly 2 decades, told me that when I see a hill coming I should think, "Oh perfect, a hill! I love to climb hills!" (Actually, now that I think of it, it's not just sports - she told me many years ago that I should expect to get X amount of rejection letters before I got one acceptance letter for my writing, that way I could count each rejection as getting just a little closer to triumph! She's so tricky that one.) Anyway, I totally do that when I see a hill coming now and I got so excited about hills the other day that I dry-heaved once I got to the top of an especially steep one. Long rides - I consistently ride over the race length of 12 miles and that has given me the most amount of confidence towards any of the 3 race segments. With the cycling leg, I feel the most confidence about moving onto longer races next year. But not so with...
3. Running - My main misconception with running was that it's just walking...but faster. I think that since there is no equipment to learn (a bicycle) or a special environment in which to adapt (water), I figured that if you're physically fit (and know how to walk) you'll just naturally be able to run, right? But I'm like Bambi on the ice every time I try to casually break into a jog and I feel all wrong, awkward and my lower legs just ache like crazy. So I've been slacking on the running part of my training schedule, thinking "oh, I'll just cycle a few more miles or swim extra and run a little bit less, it's all the same..." My fitness level has increased, but my running still sucks. Oh well for now. I plan to just get through this first triathlon and then attend some running clinics to seriously try to learn some technique because I have none right now and I suspect that I'm making it harder than it has to be!
Some triathlons let non-swimmer participants do what's called a "duathlon" instead - so while everyone else is swimming they run a shorter course than the final run leg. Um, excuse me race coordinators, how about a no running option?!
1. Swimming - My main misconception about the swimming part is left over from competitive swimming as a teenager. It was drilled into me that I should try to breathe as little as possible at the beginning, on the turns and at the end in order to keep a streamline and therefore, go faster, and definitely don't breathe every stroke. So I just tonight watched a video that instructs tri swimmers to breathe as much as they can, especially at the start (even every stroke if possible) to maximize oxygen intake so you can get through the whole swim better! I was so relieved to hear this because I've been struggling with breath in the pool. I still try to conserve breaths, only breathing every third stroke... I'm really excited now to get in the pool next time and breathe breathe breathe!
2. Cycling - My main misconception with cycling was less about the sport and more about my abilities - I feared that I couldn't get up hills or endure long rides. And now I can do both. Sarah K, who has been something like my sports shrink for nearly 2 decades, told me that when I see a hill coming I should think, "Oh perfect, a hill! I love to climb hills!" (Actually, now that I think of it, it's not just sports - she told me many years ago that I should expect to get X amount of rejection letters before I got one acceptance letter for my writing, that way I could count each rejection as getting just a little closer to triumph! She's so tricky that one.) Anyway, I totally do that when I see a hill coming now and I got so excited about hills the other day that I dry-heaved once I got to the top of an especially steep one. Long rides - I consistently ride over the race length of 12 miles and that has given me the most amount of confidence towards any of the 3 race segments. With the cycling leg, I feel the most confidence about moving onto longer races next year. But not so with...
3. Running - My main misconception with running was that it's just walking...but faster. I think that since there is no equipment to learn (a bicycle) or a special environment in which to adapt (water), I figured that if you're physically fit (and know how to walk) you'll just naturally be able to run, right? But I'm like Bambi on the ice every time I try to casually break into a jog and I feel all wrong, awkward and my lower legs just ache like crazy. So I've been slacking on the running part of my training schedule, thinking "oh, I'll just cycle a few more miles or swim extra and run a little bit less, it's all the same..." My fitness level has increased, but my running still sucks. Oh well for now. I plan to just get through this first triathlon and then attend some running clinics to seriously try to learn some technique because I have none right now and I suspect that I'm making it harder than it has to be!
Some triathlons let non-swimmer participants do what's called a "duathlon" instead - so while everyone else is swimming they run a shorter course than the final run leg. Um, excuse me race coordinators, how about a no running option?!
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Eavesdropping, Fishing and Cycling with Moose
Often when I overhear the conversations of strangers I will do three things: 1) immediately attempt to give these speakers some backstory in my imagination in order to enrich the usually out-of-context conversation I'm hearing; 2) I'll transfer their real time, verbal interaction to a fictional script - this is a writer's cheat, if I were to write this dialogue how would it appear on the page?; and 3) I wonder if they knew that a stranger was listening if they'd alter their speaking in any way? Like, how authentic is this dialogue I'm hearing right now?
This happens in grocery market lines, waiting rooms, cafes, and the most falsely intimate place of them all - the locker room at the gym. Intimate because we're all in various states of undress (often complete) and false because we (generally) are not acquainted in that naked way. I've seen countless body shapes and sizes, ages, stages and ways of trying to change outfits without revealing any of those things. Voices, though, are often less successfully concealed - I've heard about the husband who left "because the fucking dogs were just too much, I told her not to let them run her life just like her kids did!" To the exasperated mom who just didn't know how she'd fit kids, friends' kids, carseats, groceries, pets AND strollers into her SUV and did her friend have any advice because she was about to have a breakdown? ("Make someone else drive.") The Korean church camp was there to swim one day, a bunch of adolescent girls changing for the pool and one says to another, "I'm a fat cow and no one should have to see me." The other said, "Nuh-uh, that's stupid! You're awesome! Come on," and they slipped-slapped bare feet out to the pool together.
Today, I was getting ready to swim and in the next row of lockers over from me, unseen, three older women talked about salmon fishing on the Kenai. "Well head of household can take twenty five this year!" "He said in his seventeen years of dipnetting that his record was four at a time. This year he got five all at once - can you believe it?" "How do you even get that many home?" "We take suitcases and fill them with frozen fish and race back to Anchorage." "By the time you pay for gas, food and lodging it's almost worth it to just pay ten dollars a pound." "Gas is nearly five dollars a gallon. I remember when it was 89 cents for the love of Pete!" "We could drive more than five times further back then, couldn't we?"
When I heard "for the love of Pete!" that's when I started #2 or transferring their conversation onto paper - what writer would ever have a character exclaim "for the love of Pete!" I'm wagering not a lot because it would sound folksy, forcing a "fishin' country" vernacular on a buncha hearty, but quaint, Alaskan dames in the wild untamed north! And yet here I was, in a YMCA locker room looking exactly like every other YMCA locker I've ever been in, here smack in the center of urban Alaska, where three fairly well-off women (as in, not in scruffy overalls, chewing on toothpicks) discussed the fishing this year and then, later, they might go home to their not-shacks to prepare a salmon dinner for guests, choosing the perfect Sauvignon Blanc to accompany the dinner, or maybe they'd grill it while watching their grandkids play in the backyard (#1, backstory), or maybe they'd just do some canning while streaming a movie. I don't know, but my point is this - if some writers (me, maybe) were to write this conversation, it could very likely end up as one of those "ain't we a tough bunch of small-town individualists who don't care what no one thinks but our hearts are warm and we're probably more tolerant that you city folk give us credit for kinda situations now come over here and have a beer with me - a chug and a hug, honey." Which has been done to absolute death.
Where are those real representations of Alaska (or any imagined "novelty" locale?) with real people who stuff giant frozen salmon in their suitcases to speed back to town in order not to miss the symphony Saturday night? Or is that, again, foisting too much "character"? I think that's a situation ripe for plot development - a traffic jam (caused by a moose maybe!) fouls up the plans and smells up the car of these fisherpeople in a hurry. How will they get back to town in time and what sorts of events/meaningful conversations/realizations will they come to while on this unexpected waylay? And one of them is pregnant/up for violin first chair/diabetic without extra insulin/late for the child custody pick up? But mostly, how will they keep the fish from not going bad?
That's the reality, honestly, of many people in Alaska (with a tad less dramatic flair... or more, who knows?) and here's an example. Whilst cycling today (16 miles through the middle of this state's population center and, I might add, I never once had to cross a street with cars so thoughtful is the bicycle trail system in this town) and I passed sinewy-legged marathon runners, groups of teenagers walking and absently plucking the tops off tall weeds, women my age in rubber boots walking dogs, casual joggers, other cyclists bent over handlebars lycra-ed legs pumping, kids on trikes, old folks stopping to chat and stretch in their silky striped running suits. It all proved that here are a bunch of people you'd see anywhere (at any YMCA or jogging/biking trail) in the country who go to concerts and whatever else with their friends and families and dogs but here, in Alaska, there is a large wild animal roaming free on the trail. And it's no big deal.
A moose caught in my peripheral vision, munching near Chester Creek, its giant brown body, much larger than me and my bike, startling the crap out of me. But then I got a little nerdy-excited that I would get to be the person who warned those I passed coming the other way, "Hey - there's a moose on the trail just ahead of you." Which I did, and no on seemed too bothered, they just said, "Okay, thanks," and kept going. I told maybe four people then figured that was good enough, put my earbuds back in and had to laugh, thinking, well there's another verbal interaction I'd never think to write because it would sound ludicrous.
This happens in grocery market lines, waiting rooms, cafes, and the most falsely intimate place of them all - the locker room at the gym. Intimate because we're all in various states of undress (often complete) and false because we (generally) are not acquainted in that naked way. I've seen countless body shapes and sizes, ages, stages and ways of trying to change outfits without revealing any of those things. Voices, though, are often less successfully concealed - I've heard about the husband who left "because the fucking dogs were just too much, I told her not to let them run her life just like her kids did!" To the exasperated mom who just didn't know how she'd fit kids, friends' kids, carseats, groceries, pets AND strollers into her SUV and did her friend have any advice because she was about to have a breakdown? ("Make someone else drive.") The Korean church camp was there to swim one day, a bunch of adolescent girls changing for the pool and one says to another, "I'm a fat cow and no one should have to see me." The other said, "Nuh-uh, that's stupid! You're awesome! Come on," and they slipped-slapped bare feet out to the pool together.
Today, I was getting ready to swim and in the next row of lockers over from me, unseen, three older women talked about salmon fishing on the Kenai. "Well head of household can take twenty five this year!" "He said in his seventeen years of dipnetting that his record was four at a time. This year he got five all at once - can you believe it?" "How do you even get that many home?" "We take suitcases and fill them with frozen fish and race back to Anchorage." "By the time you pay for gas, food and lodging it's almost worth it to just pay ten dollars a pound." "Gas is nearly five dollars a gallon. I remember when it was 89 cents for the love of Pete!" "We could drive more than five times further back then, couldn't we?"
When I heard "for the love of Pete!" that's when I started #2 or transferring their conversation onto paper - what writer would ever have a character exclaim "for the love of Pete!" I'm wagering not a lot because it would sound folksy, forcing a "fishin' country" vernacular on a buncha hearty, but quaint, Alaskan dames in the wild untamed north! And yet here I was, in a YMCA locker room looking exactly like every other YMCA locker I've ever been in, here smack in the center of urban Alaska, where three fairly well-off women (as in, not in scruffy overalls, chewing on toothpicks) discussed the fishing this year and then, later, they might go home to their not-shacks to prepare a salmon dinner for guests, choosing the perfect Sauvignon Blanc to accompany the dinner, or maybe they'd grill it while watching their grandkids play in the backyard (#1, backstory), or maybe they'd just do some canning while streaming a movie. I don't know, but my point is this - if some writers (me, maybe) were to write this conversation, it could very likely end up as one of those "ain't we a tough bunch of small-town individualists who don't care what no one thinks but our hearts are warm and we're probably more tolerant that you city folk give us credit for kinda situations now come over here and have a beer with me - a chug and a hug, honey." Which has been done to absolute death.
Where are those real representations of Alaska (or any imagined "novelty" locale?) with real people who stuff giant frozen salmon in their suitcases to speed back to town in order not to miss the symphony Saturday night? Or is that, again, foisting too much "character"? I think that's a situation ripe for plot development - a traffic jam (caused by a moose maybe!) fouls up the plans and smells up the car of these fisherpeople in a hurry. How will they get back to town in time and what sorts of events/meaningful conversations/realizations will they come to while on this unexpected waylay? And one of them is pregnant/up for violin first chair/diabetic without extra insulin/late for the child custody pick up? But mostly, how will they keep the fish from not going bad?
That's the reality, honestly, of many people in Alaska (with a tad less dramatic flair... or more, who knows?) and here's an example. Whilst cycling today (16 miles through the middle of this state's population center and, I might add, I never once had to cross a street with cars so thoughtful is the bicycle trail system in this town) and I passed sinewy-legged marathon runners, groups of teenagers walking and absently plucking the tops off tall weeds, women my age in rubber boots walking dogs, casual joggers, other cyclists bent over handlebars lycra-ed legs pumping, kids on trikes, old folks stopping to chat and stretch in their silky striped running suits. It all proved that here are a bunch of people you'd see anywhere (at any YMCA or jogging/biking trail) in the country who go to concerts and whatever else with their friends and families and dogs but here, in Alaska, there is a large wild animal roaming free on the trail. And it's no big deal.
A moose caught in my peripheral vision, munching near Chester Creek, its giant brown body, much larger than me and my bike, startling the crap out of me. But then I got a little nerdy-excited that I would get to be the person who warned those I passed coming the other way, "Hey - there's a moose on the trail just ahead of you." Which I did, and no on seemed too bothered, they just said, "Okay, thanks," and kept going. I told maybe four people then figured that was good enough, put my earbuds back in and had to laugh, thinking, well there's another verbal interaction I'd never think to write because it would sound ludicrous.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
10 Things About Visiting L.A.
1. You know how people say about LA: "It's fun to visit but I
wouldn't want to live there."? Well, I understand now. Super fun to
visit - Bountiful shopping! Wide variety of restaurants! Great people watching! Driving 80 mph to get where I need to go! Sun sun sun! Spending an afternoon in the pool! Cheap mani/pedis! Celebrity sightings! But all those people that are fun to watch also make it crowded and annoying; all those celebrities to sight make for a strange fame culture, an awkward ethos; all those zippy freeway lanes clog up and soon you're bumper to bumper.
2. One day after working out I visited this organic juice place and asked if I could get ginger in my "C Blast" because I had a cold the entire time I was in LA (thanks, airplane) and the nice young Latino hipster with rolled sleeves and black rimmed nerd glasses (like mine) behind the bar said, "Well, no. But I'll tell you why..." And he explained about needing to juice the gingerroot and the C Blast was just orange juice with some honey in it and in the background playing was this amazing song and I so I wasn't really listening to him because I wanted our interaction to end so I could Soundhound the song before it ended so I just ordered the next thing down the menu plus ginger then swiped swiped swiped on my phone to Soundhound and whew, captured it, bought it and downloaded the song right on the spot! I've never done that before - I felt very high tech, like I was in a Google or Apple commercial. The song? Shine a Light (Flight Facilities Remix) by The C90s.
3. I felt a little bit like a country mouse, but I wasn't too bothered by this. Strangely, I was just fine being pretty average on the fashion/hipness scale because I felt centered inside and so I just really didn't give a shit like I thought I would (Jim would be so proud). That doesn't mean I didn't feel a little self-conscious, because I did from time to time about my boring clothes or feeling a little fat, but it wasn't the end of the world. I felt like I knew other, different, good things that filled me up and so...
4. ...I realized that I am content in my life in Alaska. I think I needed to be in a place where I was before to comprehend that. Being back in the same places I lived within and around for years before, when I was younger, felt like a million years ago. It was like watching a movie I scarcely remembered seeing before except for certain scenes that jogged my memory, making me think oh yeah this seems familiar, I think I have seen this flick.
5. Dear friends with whom you can just pick up with, no matter what we each might be going through, are worth so much. Being known and hearing and understanding from them how they see you (which is how you hope you appear) is really assuring. They know all the backstory, the history, the family and friends to ask about, so you can just be your dorky intense irreverent reverent selves.
6. It was really hot. My blood has definitely thickened up, way up, up here.
7. Smog is absolutely disgusting. Some people freak out over germs, I was freaking out a little bit about the air. Driving in from the airport, knowing there are mountains back there, unseen, behind filthy air. Hiking in those foothills later I felt like I was having an asthma attack, wheezing and not able to continue, feeling like a goldarned wimp. I can't believe that I used to smoke, too, in LA.
8. My current wardrobe is quite bad, consisting of mainly expensive active/outdoor gear and cheap casual wear. I packed a bunch of ugly that I never wore down there and ended up shopping for and wearing the same new jeans and t-shirt almost everyday. Also, why can't Alaska have outlet stores? And El Pollo Locos? And Trader Joes? And theaters where you pick your own seats and people don't talk or text during the film? Also, $15 pedicures?
9. I reveled in the Latino-ness everywhere I went! Hearing people speaking Spanish or not, just merely appearing to be on the brown side like mio - it was like a sigh of relief, returning to what makes sense to me living in the world. Twice someone spoke in Spanish to me, assuming that either I understood, or perhaps they didn't know English. Also, hearing my grandma speak Spanish speaks to my soul. I learned a new phrase from her -I think it goes Es mejor llegar a la iglesia para obtener el diablo. Her mother used to say. Which means "You better get to church to get the devil out" a very versatile phrase which can apply to crying babies, angsty teenagers or gassy adults.
10. There is nothing so complicated, yet comforting, as looking around the room and realizing, that in some way, you are related to each and every person surrounding you. My head was flooding with memories of each and every aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent; my present self considering how we were before, what had changed, what if I'd never left 5 years ago, did I look different, was I different? Were they? Should I sit still or should I interact more - which one will allow me to soak it all up the most?
2. One day after working out I visited this organic juice place and asked if I could get ginger in my "C Blast" because I had a cold the entire time I was in LA (thanks, airplane) and the nice young Latino hipster with rolled sleeves and black rimmed nerd glasses (like mine) behind the bar said, "Well, no. But I'll tell you why..." And he explained about needing to juice the gingerroot and the C Blast was just orange juice with some honey in it and in the background playing was this amazing song and I so I wasn't really listening to him because I wanted our interaction to end so I could Soundhound the song before it ended so I just ordered the next thing down the menu plus ginger then swiped swiped swiped on my phone to Soundhound and whew, captured it, bought it and downloaded the song right on the spot! I've never done that before - I felt very high tech, like I was in a Google or Apple commercial. The song? Shine a Light (Flight Facilities Remix) by The C90s.
3. I felt a little bit like a country mouse, but I wasn't too bothered by this. Strangely, I was just fine being pretty average on the fashion/hipness scale because I felt centered inside and so I just really didn't give a shit like I thought I would (Jim would be so proud). That doesn't mean I didn't feel a little self-conscious, because I did from time to time about my boring clothes or feeling a little fat, but it wasn't the end of the world. I felt like I knew other, different, good things that filled me up and so...
4. ...I realized that I am content in my life in Alaska. I think I needed to be in a place where I was before to comprehend that. Being back in the same places I lived within and around for years before, when I was younger, felt like a million years ago. It was like watching a movie I scarcely remembered seeing before except for certain scenes that jogged my memory, making me think oh yeah this seems familiar, I think I have seen this flick.
5. Dear friends with whom you can just pick up with, no matter what we each might be going through, are worth so much. Being known and hearing and understanding from them how they see you (which is how you hope you appear) is really assuring. They know all the backstory, the history, the family and friends to ask about, so you can just be your dorky intense irreverent reverent selves.
6. It was really hot. My blood has definitely thickened up, way up, up here.
7. Smog is absolutely disgusting. Some people freak out over germs, I was freaking out a little bit about the air. Driving in from the airport, knowing there are mountains back there, unseen, behind filthy air. Hiking in those foothills later I felt like I was having an asthma attack, wheezing and not able to continue, feeling like a goldarned wimp. I can't believe that I used to smoke, too, in LA.
8. My current wardrobe is quite bad, consisting of mainly expensive active/outdoor gear and cheap casual wear. I packed a bunch of ugly that I never wore down there and ended up shopping for and wearing the same new jeans and t-shirt almost everyday. Also, why can't Alaska have outlet stores? And El Pollo Locos? And Trader Joes? And theaters where you pick your own seats and people don't talk or text during the film? Also, $15 pedicures?
9. I reveled in the Latino-ness everywhere I went! Hearing people speaking Spanish or not, just merely appearing to be on the brown side like mio - it was like a sigh of relief, returning to what makes sense to me living in the world. Twice someone spoke in Spanish to me, assuming that either I understood, or perhaps they didn't know English. Also, hearing my grandma speak Spanish speaks to my soul. I learned a new phrase from her -I think it goes Es mejor llegar a la iglesia para obtener el diablo. Her mother used to say. Which means "You better get to church to get the devil out" a very versatile phrase which can apply to crying babies, angsty teenagers or gassy adults.
10. There is nothing so complicated, yet comforting, as looking around the room and realizing, that in some way, you are related to each and every person surrounding you. My head was flooding with memories of each and every aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent; my present self considering how we were before, what had changed, what if I'd never left 5 years ago, did I look different, was I different? Were they? Should I sit still or should I interact more - which one will allow me to soak it all up the most?
Thursday, July 05, 2012
Got My Art Fix
Paid a post-brunch, post-hike visit to LACMA today with Kentito to round out a lovely eating, exercising afternoon with some culture.
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