Training Camp

The sign is no joke: it is located just past a turnoff that is part of the running course for Ironman Lake Placid. It is also about 1/4 mile from where Hilary and I spent last weekend, at a training camp. Hilary and I are not, not, racing IMLP this year, and have no particular desire to do it any other year. But we know people who are, and Hilary's coach was organizing a training weekend for them and invited us along. This is what counts as a fun weekend away for us these days: leave B with the grandparents, then go kick our butts for a few days of hard exercise.

But there are fun things about training camp, too, other than putting in some serious time. Eating, for one: when you are burning 500-1000 cal/hr for a couple hours straight, you have license to eat and snack basically whatever you want. Behold the kitchen table of the rental house:

The other nice thing about training camp: hanging out with a bunch of like-minded athletes who actually do enjoy getting out there and working hard. Especially on the group rides, when you are cycling together, it's nice to chat (when you can) while watching the awesome scenery glide by. Then, when you all regroup at the end of the day for a big meal, you can commiserate and trade war stories of this and that race.

Thursday
Not technically part of the training camp, it was a part of the whole experience. We ran in the annual Rock-n-Race 5K, which starts and ends at the statehouse, and circles close to our neighborhood. We've run this race before, and keep aiming to outdo ourselves. I was aiming to break 20:00 this year. I didn't quite hit that mark, but I did shave about 30 seconds off last year's time. It was about a second off my PR. Hilary, likewise, made a good improvement over last year's time, but didn't quite hit her goal. Ah well, although we've been doing lots of training, we haven't exactly been training for a race like this - not enough speed work, too much other stuff (ya know, like swimming and biking).

After what seemed like an awfully long time to get cleaned up, finish packing, and say goodbye to B, Hilary and I hit the road around 8:30. It's about 4-1/2 hours to Lake Placid, so it made for quite a late drive. We had some run-ins with the locals in Vermont. Along the way, we almost ran into: one deer crossing the road, two cows sleeping in a ditch alongside a dirt road we got lost on, and one moose ambling up the same pass in the Green Mountains we happened to be on. There was also much confusion trying to get through Middlebury and onto the correct road to take us to the crazy sigmoid bridge that crosses Lake Champlain. I've got enough familiarity with the Lake Placid area that we were able to find the rental house easily enough once we arrived, and promptly crashed into the bunks around 1:30 am

Friday
Hilary and I had every intention of sleeping in, then going for a long bike ride on our own. But the rest of the group roused us from bed around 7:30 with their own preparations, so we got our act together and headed out with them. The Ironman course does two, 56-mile loops from the middle of town, past the ski jumps, bomb down a long descent into Keene, head north towards Jay and Upper Jay, west towards Whiteface Mountain, and then south through a gorge and back into town.

Got it? Let's ride!

Aside from one technical mishap (our fastest rider had a chain break in the first mile. he drove into town, got it replaced, and caught up to us by mile 40), the ride was a great. Hilary and I hadn't ever done more than 40 miles before this. It was a nice confidence boost to know that we could bike the full half-iron distance in a reasonable time with a strong group. We didn't bike the whole thing flat out: although our moving time was a touch over three hours, we were gone for nearly four, stopping at major intersections to refuel and regroup. There were plenty of stretches where I felt really good keeping a 20+ mph pace. Drafting behind some of the other riders certainly helped (something not allowed in races), but I took the lead in places, too.

And all that before lunch! Hilary and I took the afternoon off, while many of the others - those training for an actual Ironman - went off for a second loop. I made guacamole late in the afternoon, followed by black bean enchiladas with salsa verde as our contribution to dinner. There were no leftovers.

Here's the aftermath of the day's adventures:

Clothes drying

More clothes drying, plus the view off the back porch: north towards Whiteface.

Oh look, $10,000 worth of bicycles

And what is this? Another $10,000 worth of bicycles.

Saturday
We were up again around 7:30, but at least this time we'd gotten something like nine hours' sleep. Many folks today were going out for long trail runs/hikes. For some reason this hadn't occurred to me: although Hilary and I love hiking, and I'm familiar with the Adirondacks, somehow I didn't think to bring appropriate equipment for that kind of outing. It was just as well - the two groups were looking at 15 or 20 miles, with many thousands of feet of elevation involved. Instead, Hilary and I took a long run along River Road, which forms part of the Ironman run course (which is also a two-loop affair). Hilary had one pace in mind, which I gamely followed for a few miles, then thought it would be great to step it up a bit. I figured I would run a little ways past the turnaround, then double back and catch up to Hilary. Great idea, except I made a simple math error. If I wanted to give Hilary a 2-minute head start (which, at a 1:00/mi faster pace, I could make up in two miles), I should run on for about one minute before turning around, not two. Actually, feeling bold and brash, I did 2:30. I did eventually catch her, but only in the final mile of the run. I had some help, too: Hilary got waylaid by a golden retriever that had run off and needed escorting back to its house.

A 9-mile run seems like a solid way to start the day. What could be better after such an excursion than a nice refreshing swim? Although there is an actual Lake Placid just north of town, the body of water within the town itself is Mirror Lake. That is where they do the swim portion of the Ironman. They even have the course buoys set up for those crazies that want to train. Hilary and I are such crazies - sort of. Given that it's only mid-May, and we're in northern NY, we knew this would be a cold swim. The water temperature was 55-60, about as cold as I can tolerate with my wetsuit. It's not so bad after the first five minutes - once your feet stop aching. Yes, there's also that difficult time when the water is tricking into the suit down your back. Eventually you have to put your face in, and that's kinda tough, too.

Alright, I'll admit: it was freakin' cold!

At the outset, Hilary and I figured we'd swim down to the end of the course and back - 1.2 miles, 35-40 minutes. But plan and execution are different things. We'd strike out, swim maybe 50-100 yards, then pull up for 30 seconds to make sure the other was still doing OK, then go on a bit further. There was an element of chicken involved: however far out you go, you have to swim just as far to get back. In the end, I don't think we even made it halfway before packing it in. Our first race of the season is in two weeks, though hopefully not so cold. We'll need some more open water practice before then.

After cleaning up and having lunch, we came back into town to... go to the movies. This is supposed to be a vacation, right? We saw the new Star Trek and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. By the way: the small Palace Theater on main street (and other north country community movie theaters) is trying desperately to raise enough money to buy a digital projector. In the next few months, the major studios are going to stop making actual 35-mm prints of new films, and instead go all-digital. If you feel like helping them out, go here.

We chipped in to the dinner effort again that night: roasted sweet potato salad with black beans and avocado. There were no leftovers.

Sunday
Up again bright and early. Hilary and I had carefully planned backwards from our 1:00 pm check-out time, and set out for a bike-run workout close to the Olympic distance we've been training for. From a parking area near Upper Jay we headed towards Wilmington along a hilly Springfield Road. We then continued heading north from Wilmington on Haselton road, which used to be a major out-and-back portion of the Ironman bike course. They chopped all but a mile of it a couple of years ago. Too bad: it is a lovely stretch. I could feel the last few days in my legs: I had decent speed on the flats, but no power to climb the hills.

We then turned around and headed back to the car - about 27 miles all told. At the car we made a quick transition to a 4-mile run along rt 9N. We would have done 6 miles (a 10k run is part of the Olympic distance), but just didn't have time. Back at the house we did a quick shower, change, and pack. Others trickled in from their own workouts and did the same. We left a bit after 1:00, heading south towards Brattleboro, where we'd meet Hilary's parents for dinner and a Brynna exchange.

Monday
REST.

Manholes

News of the random. I found this photo-essay and accompanying article on the NY Times website this morning. Ever wonder where the ubiquitous manhole covers of NYC come from? As it turns out, they're made in India. The article and photos demonstrate the casting process used to create them. Imagine carting around molten iron from an open furnace when the temperature is over 100 F outside! To cope, the workers are usually wearing nothing more than a simple wrap - no shoes, no smocks, no gloves, no goggles. The article devotes some paragraphs on the workplace safety issues this raises, and compares it to foundries in the U.S. Another interesting example of the globalized economy.



I actually drafted this blog post back in November of 2007, when this article was actually fresh and new. Ah well, it's still a cool story!

Freedom of Religion.

Take note of the period at the end of the title.

The ongoing flap about the proposed Islamic center to be built two blocks from Ground Zero in New York is really one of the weirdest spectacles I can imagine. We're actually talking about this? I can understand some getting bent out of shape about it, but is this something that really requires debate?

Allow me to put this plainly: if the United States stands for freedom of religion, then we had better let our actions follow our principles. If the Constitution is really as sacrosanct as so many politicians (and a whole host of candidates) are proclaiming it to be on a daily basis, then they had better be ready to speak as fervently about freedom of religion as they do about the rest.

Some try to tiptoe around the first amendment on this one. Others are less successful at hiding their bigotry. Some come out and speak plainly, and do little more than equate Islam with being Un-American.

“Ground zero is hallowed ground to Americans,” Elliott Maynard, a Republican trying to unseat Representative Nick J. Rahall II, a Democrat, in West Virginia’s Third District, said in a typical statement. “Do you think the Muslims would allow a Jewish temple or Christian church to be built in Mecca?” - NYTimes

Yes, it is hallowed ground (though the way some speak of it borders on idolatry). And, yes, it is American hallowed ground. That is an important difference between Mecca and Ground Zero. Mecca is the seat of Islam; it belongs to Muslims. Ground Zero belongs to the United States. Would it be appropriate to allow a Jewish temple of Christian church to be built two blocks from the World Trade Center? Insofar as there are Jews and Christians in America, none would bat an eyelash. But an Islamic community center that also happens to have a mosque? Perish the thought!

And why? The point Mr Maynard seems to be making, appealing to our fear and distrust of The Other, is that Muslims should not be included as Americans. Do Muslims, as Americans, have less a claim to that hallowed ground than any other American? Do you really think that the only Muslims to die on 9/11 were those nutjobs flying the planes? Several dozen, at least, perished side by side with their fellow Americans.

In a city of over 8 million, the fire that heats our melting pot, I'm sure there are at least a few who would claim both the title of Muslim and American in the same breath.

Others, fearing to come off as xenophobes, simply try to couch it in terms of what's appropriate. They seek to draw analogies to whether one group has a right to contribute to the memorial of another:

“Nazis don’t have the right to put up a sign next to the Holocaust Museum in Washington,” Mr. Gingrich said on the Fox News program “Fox and Friends.” “We would never accept the Japanese putting up a site next to Pearl Harbor. There’s no reason for us to accept a mosque next to the World Trade Center.” - NYTimes

To put it in these terms misses a key matter of representation. The Nazis represented Germany as far as the Holocaust is concerned; the Imperial military represented Japan in 1941. These are acts perpetrated by nation-states during a war. That doesn't excuse the behavior - just as it doesn't excuse the suffering rendered by the United States at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, whose anniversaries passed just as this was heating up. As far as I know, there is no American presence at the atomic bombing sites. For better or for worse, the citizens of those countries bear the collective guilt of what was done by their governments in their name.

Al Qaeda does not represent Islam. To believe otherwise is to take a particularly craven and perverted view of the world. To paraphrase The West Wing, Al Qaeda is to Islam what the KKK is to Christianity. I could think of other examples. Does Westboro represent all Baptists? Does the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ represent all Mormons? Shall we paint all pro-lifers with the same brush we use for the Army of God? Perhaps we shall lump all members of PETA and all vegetarians together with the Animal Liberation Front.

That is the important difference that Mr Gingrich either willfully or ignorantly glosses over. To say that a mosque should not be built in the vicinity of Ground Zero, because the perpetrators of 9/11 called themselves Muslims, is to say that all Muslims, including Muslim-Americans, bear the guilt of 9/11 and are, simply, not welcome.

And then there is the dear Sarah Palin: "Doesn't it stab you in the heart, as it does ours throughout the heartland? Peaceful Muslims, pls refudiate." What kind of nonsense is she trying to propulgate here?

The president made the principled stand and used his bully pulpit to remind everyone that we do, in fact, have freedom of religion in this country. You may not like the ramifications, but that's just too bad. And if the Republicans harp on about him being out of touch with mainstream America - since when has the first Amendment been subject to referendum?

We are for freedom. Period.

Boom OK

We spent the 4th weekend in Lake Placid. The parents of a college friend of ours own a place up there, just a few miles outside of the town proper. We haven't seen this friend, and his wife, for a couple of years. My recollection is a bit shaky, but it may well be that the last time we saw them was at our wedding some five years ago. Some of our other college friends came up from Boston with their ~1 y.o. son, who made a very fine playmate for the B.

A few highlights of the weekend:

Between Friday night and Saturday afternoon, Brynna ate four bananas.

On Saturday Hilary took a little side trip to see our good friend Sara down in Saratoga Springs. The rest of us in Lake Placid took a late hike up a minor bump called Mt Jo, then took a dip in the large pond at its base. It was not a particularly long hike, but there were plenty of steep sections. Plus, it was hot. Not quite as hot as it has been this week, but still pretty hot. Jasper was quite happy to be out and about, though, and just loved coming down off the trail and jumping into the water.

On Sunday, while Brynna had her nap, Hilary and I got out for a decent bike ride. It's only a few weeks from the Lake Placid Ironman, so there were a lot of folks out on the road on bike and on foot. Hilary and I still can't quite see ourselves training up for a full Ironman distance (2.4 mi swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mi run, anywhere from 10 to 20 hours). For one, we'd have to really put in the training time: 2-3 hours a day, at least, which is patently absurd in our current lifestyle. Still, it was pretty neat to see so many fellow triathletes out and about.

While we were out, Brynna was avoiding having her nap. After a little while she started crying, and one of our friends went to see her. Jasper was diligently sitting in front of the pack-n-play, and Brynna was standing right up. They brought her out into the living room for a bit, and she (rather humorously) scanned the room from face to face. Mama? No. Dada? No. Mama? No… After determining that we were nowhere around, she crept back against the wall and started looking sad. Fearing an explosion of anguish, our friends asked if she wanted to go back to bed. Brynna said, glumly and on the verge of tears, "yeees," and proceeded to sleep for the next three hours without a peep.

Sunday night was, of course, the 4th of July fireworks. Hilary and I had some misgivings about bringing Brynna. She could either love it or run away screaming in abject terror. Brynna has seen fireworks before, such as last year's 4th on Long Island Sound. But those fireworks were far off, and the booms quite muted. This time we were on a little slope on the water's edge, and the booms were going off about 200 feet over out heads. The first three minutes of the show seemed to confirm our worst fears. Maybe she objected to the weird techno music they were playing as accompaniment (what, no Sousa?). But, through the careful encouragement of Hilary and our friend's mother, Brynna managed to take a more positive view of things. After another few minutes, she was lying back on Mama, enraptured. B thoroughly enjoyed herself by the end, clapping enthusiastically with everyone else. Here's Brynna's take on it.

Boom! Air!
Raaad, ye-whoa, booo, geeen!
Lay down Mama.
Hode Dada hayaaand.
Boom OK!
[claps]

Monday, alas, we needed to make the rather long trek back to Concord.

More Happenings in "The Other Rochester"

Brynna is now almost five months old and has been cleared by her doctor to start solid foods. I plan to wait until about six months before we get very serious about anything but breastmilk, but she is SO interested in watching us eat that we actually feel a little guilty. So, when we all sat down to eat the other day, and there turned out to be pears for dessert, I mushed up a piece and we offered Brynna a taste.

She was very curious at first:


But didn't turn out to be such a fan of the grown-up spoon thing:


And was a little skeptical of the pears being offered on Dad's finger, too:


So, we'll keep practicing with this new texture thing!


Brynna has also spent a lot of time sitting on the couch, hanging out with Grandma while I study away on my computer and Alex tries to whip various electronics into shape.




We're back on the road tomorrow for the much shorter trip to Connecticut (six hours per MapQuest, probably more like eight with little B in tow). The windshield wipers are fixed, and it looks like we'll need them, as there is supposed to be an abrupt warming and change to rain. Just when I thought Brynna's first Christmas would be white! Much better for driving than a blizzard or an ice storm, though...

Christmas #1!

Last night was Christmas here in Rochester.

Here's Brynna playing with Grandma while dinner was cooking:




Jasper very bravely venturing out to supervise Alex scratching off his lottery ticket. Extra kibble on the way?


Katherine and Christopher:


Kicking back with Da:


Art examining his own lottery ticket, in disbelief. Yes! It was a win!


Merry Christmas!

In New York

It would appear that we lucked out in oh-so-many ways with our trip so far. First, even though the windshield wipers bit the dust early on, we managed to have dry roads and no precipitation for basically the whole 22-hour drive. It got a little dicey once we left I-90, with lake-effect snow and splatter from cars ahead of us, but that was just for the final 1/2 hour.

Also, if one looks at the weather, the fact that we encountered almost no precipitation is nothing short of miraculous. Rochester, NY received a foot of snow the night before our arrival (i.e., at the time we were leaving Minnesota), and has since received two bouts of several inches more. Meanwhile, in Rochester, MN, the night after our departure (as we were laboring pulling into NY), the temperature plunged well below zero, and stayed there all through Sunday and into Monday, with 20 mph sustained winds. They got snow, too.

So, for those keeping track, we managed to time our trip to be right in the lull between two storm fronts, and moved with them as they swept across the country. Of course we planned it that way.

Never fear, dear readers: the car is being looked at now, so we will have functional wipers by the time we move on in a few days.

New York

After long struggle, we are approaching our day's destination: Rochester, NY.

Harry and company are meanwhile breaking into a vault at Gringot's, if that is an indication of the length of our travels.

We hope to arrive for a late-ish dinner, then collapse.

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