Monthly Archive: September 2009

Running log: 2009/09/22

It’s an interesting week for running. I’m supposed to be tapering, but we still have a couple of tough runs for this week. Today we had a 10K run scheduled to be at race pace. So, I went along with confidence. It was dark and hazy, and it wasn’t long before the heat was really starting to get to me. Very quickly, my face was drenched with sweat. I was panting hard, and my vision was starting to go blurry. I know the route, so really, blurry vision isn’t the worst thing to happen. Unfortunately, some work was being done on the roads along the way. One stretch of the sidewalk had hoses going across every 30 metres or so. It’s silly. It’s such a hazard. I had to keep my wits about me just to prevent myself from tripping. Unfortunately, one member of our group actually did trip on one of the hoses and got rather banged up.

Well, there were a couple of uphill parts. I struggled a bit to keep the energy going because the humidity was really sapping my strength. By the 5K mark, the heat affected me to the point where I was struggling to keep my lunch down. I guess it didn’t help that I ate a really volatile lunch. Never trust the dirty bird! I was belching fried chicken every couple of minutes. My heart rate was soaring and I was feeling like shit. By the last kilometre or two I was just struggling to get going.

Sure, I made it back, but in my mind it was kind of a failure. I missed my race pace by about 40 seconds per kilometre. I think around this time last year I would have let something like that get me down for a long period, but really I’ve done this so many times that I know that these things can happen. I suppose I should have known better than to eat something greasy, but for something like weather what else can I do? I do hope that Sunday gives me more favourable conditions. If not, well, at the very least I know that I’ll finish. Bah.

The comfortable couch

Not that it’s a bad thing, but more and more I’ve been finding myself sleeping on the couch. Sometimes it’s not intentional. For example, sometimes I’d just be typing something and for whatever reason I’d just tilt until I’m horizontal. Next thing you know I open my eyes and an hour or two has passed. It’s a bit of an annoyance, but I suppose I should just be glad that I seem to have picked a couch that’s actually quite comfortable. The flip side to all of this is that I wonder if I’m getting enough rest.

Ugh, right now it’s freaking 2 a.m. I just woke up after being awake at 1 a.m. This is getting ridiculous.

Racing is still a big deal

Maybe it doesn’t seem like that long, but if I stop to think about it I’ve been training for half marathons for a good amount of time. I started back in May of last year and really, apart from a week off here and there training has been pretty continuous. No, I didn’t even use the winter months as a rest period. In fact, I found that I enjoyed winter running much more than summer running. Although, admittedly this summer has been more than kind to someone like me that tends to just crumble under the oppressive heat. At this point, I’m rounding out my fourth time through the training program. This leads to the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Half Marathon taking place next week. Yes, this is the same race that I ran last year. If I look back to blog entries last year around this time there was a good amount of nervous energy coming through in my posts. These days, I’m not feeling quite as nervous. Although, I wonder if the nerves will kick in closer to the end of the week. We’ll see.

So, even though I’ve been training for this distance for almost 1.5 yrs, I’ve only done two half marathons. Is that surprising? If you recall, I sprained my ankle just before one of my scheduled events causing me to miss out. So, really, this half marathon thing isn’t quite old for me yet. Yes, it’s gotten a bit easier, but it still a nice challenge, know what I mean? Maybe you’d think that signing up for a race is no longer a big deal, but man, I’m still finding myself having to psych myself into actually doing so. And even before I hit submit I repeatedly second guess myself to the point of paralysis. Should I? Shouldn’t I? What are the pros and cons? Even if arace was all pros and didn’t have any cons, I would still hesitate.

So, today I got an email from the race director for the Angus Glen Half Marathon. See, I’d done the 10K before, and was thinking about doing the full 21.1K. Well, the email said that spaces were about to run out. I didn’t want to miss out on the event because of all of the associated goodies, but still, I didn’t know if I was ready to run the hilly route. Well, after an hour or two of “WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?” I decided to just do it. So now I have another race in the pipeline. It’s going to be a fun few months, for sure. Physically, I’m sure I’m ready. Mentally…it’ll take me a lot longer to prep myself.

Making a spicy stew

By the time you read this post the pirate-talk filter should be off, hopefully…and mercifully. And if it’s off, you can have a look at the necktie rebellion post without my narration coming off as sounding like an inebriated Jack Sparrow knock off. Yarrr!

Like I mentioned a while back, I’m now cooking meals basically every night. Eating out is the exception. That’s great, isn’t it? Thing is, I’m starting to miss my mother’s cooking. It’s not because I don’t like putting the effort into making a meal. And it’s not that my cooking sucks either. It’s just that what I cook tends to be very far from being Filipino in style. As a result, I guess I’m missing out on the spice and flavour combos that I used to have more regularly. To me, I find it amusing when I say this, because, really, I have no bloody clue how to characterize what a Filipino flavour is. I suppose if I was forced to generalize, it’d have something to do with soy sauce, vinegar, garlic, onions, and black pepper…but I suppose that’s essentially just describing adobo. Yeah, see, no clue. I do know though that flavours aren’t subtle. They need to pack a punch or else you’ll hear complaints of “walang lasa!” or “there’s no flavour!”

Anyway, having missed the tastes, I decided to do something about it this week. After work one day I ventured to the Asian grocery stores on Spadina in search of some stew mixes. After visiting a few places I finally found a shelf that had packets of Mama Sita brand mixes. God, I swear I was really quite psyched upon finding them. I remember that the mixes were extremely useful in university when I wanted to put together food that was far removed from instant ramen or scrambled eggs. Anyway, I bought two packets of the caldereta (spicy stew mix), and one of the Filipino style barbecue marinade mix. Oooh, those are going to be some good eats. With the mixes in hand, I declared that this week I’d do the spicy stew. I mean, I had stewing beef on hand in the freezer as well as a few handfuls of frozen veggies. It would be dead simple!

So, I made the stew this evening. Indeed, it was pretty simple (for me). I had enough time to listen to music and prep a honeydew melon while it was all on the stove. The result was awesome. I have enough leftovers for a few more meals in the next few days. It totally took me back to university–and not in a negative way. Ultimately, having food like this is just comforting for me.

What I made is good enough; I can’t knock Mama Sita. Thing is though…it still doesn’t match the caldereta that my mom makes. She doesn’t use sauce mixes (as far as I know); she does it from scratch. Really, it can’t be that difficult to do it from scratch–I just haven’t done it before. I guess one day in the next few months I’ll have a go at doing it without a stew mix and see if I can get the flavouring right.

Or…I can just visit my parents more often.

(Hmm…)

The necktie rebellion

Being a student at a Catholic high school meant that I had to wear a uniform. Really, I think for someone like me it was a godsend (pardon the joke, I suppose) since I didn’t have to worry about what I had to wear, or having to stick out like a sore thumb for not fitting in whatever norms were in place at the time. Hell, given my track record in elementary, I know it would have been a daily shit fest. The uniform was sort of like a bit of equalizing armour wrapped in a cardigan. I figure that when I was starting out it helped me not be prejudged by other people. For someone nerdy like me it at least levelled things out.

The uniform was rather simple. It consisted of a white shirt, slacks or a kilt, and the maroon sweater (or approved black sweatshirt). I remember back then the uniform was always a flashpoint between the administration and the students. I’m sure it’s still that way today, but my memories are from a decade ago. Shirts always had to be tucked in. Girls’ kilts had to be an appropriate length. As a point of rebellion the girls would always hike them up as high as decency would allow–sometimes past, I guess. There are stories of vice-principals roaming the halls with rulers ready to measure just how far the kilts went above the knees. If anyone wore pants, they had to be charcoal grey slacks. I remember a friend of mine tried to get away with some same colour rose stitching on the legs of her pants. As much as they blended in, I remember her fear of being caught. Ridiculous! Why try to exert your individuality over something that you don’t really have much control over? Aren’t there other ways to stand out?

It’s probably expected, but I didn’t do anything to fly against the rules. Why would I? There was no need to get the administration on my ass, right? Well, my memory is entirely hazy on what happened, but my attitude changed on that front one day. At some point I began wearing a necktie with my uniform. I don’t recall the exact point that I started doing so back in high school, but it must have been late in Grade 11 or right in Grade 12. I wasn’t consciously giving admin the middle finger with it. There was no revolutionary statement that I was trying to make. Frankly, I think I just wanted to wear a tie. I was the only one. It wasn’t part of the uniform, but I don’t think there was a rule against it. I wasn’t doing anything that was trying to make the uniform casual or disrespectful, so really none of the teachers could bean me on it. The tie became my thing.

So, why am I having flashbacks to that period of my life? Well, over the past month I’ve been watching some old DVDs that someone gave to me of an anime from the late 90s. The main character for this show is a girl who insists on wearing a boys’ uniform to school. This is due to the fact that she wants to emulate someone she met long ago as a little child. She keeps pointing out that there’s not rule against it, but the counsellors keep harassing her about it. Anyway, somewhere late in the series they talk about another character who gained respect in school by carrying herself with an air of dignity, and doing things for herself and not for the attention of others. I kind of carried that to my experiences. The tie wasn’t for anyone but myself.

I’m not saying the tie gained me any respect, but perhaps it helped. It really wasn’t until late Grade 11 and Grade 12 that I recall feeling like I was coming into my own. Before that I was still trying to find my way around to see if I fit into any groups. Really, that endeavour was a spectacular failure, thankfully. And I say “thankfully” because if I had found a group I think I would have lost out on learning self-reliance. By the later grades it just wasn’t as important anymore. I didn’t really fit in anywhere and was more of a floater. So I ended up just having a “take me for who I am” air about me as I really focused on my academics. Hopefully it’s not imagined, but all of that gained me some respect. Perhaps the tie vaulted me to a place where I was suddenly beyond judgment. I honestly don’t know…

These days, I’m long removed from times where I had to wear prescribed clothing. Even so, upon reflecting on these days gone by I realize that there are lessons that I can apply today. I no longer have to don a necktie to get respect. I know though that maintaining my dignity can go a long way to moulding how others perceive me. Also, continuing to do things for myself and not for the approval of others just commands respect that can’t be picked up any other way.

I’m looking for the goddess

Oh LORD.

Video Dating – Found Footage Festival


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQ-O3c1sjjI

It’s funny…and it’s sad…but really it’s funny more than anything.

Maybe it was a sign

This morning I was walking toward the front door, getting ready to leave for the day. As I approached I suddenly decided that I would be better served for the day if I ate something. So, I stopped, turned and headed for the kitchen to toast bread.

About fifteen minutes later, I was again heading for the door but as I walked by the mirror I saw my reflection and it stopped me in my tracks. I decided that I would be better off if I shaved off a week’s growth of facial hair. So, I turned around, headed for the bathroom and cleaned myself up.

About ten minutes later, I was again heading for the door. I bent down to put on my shoes, but as I did the morning light caught my pants at a certain angle highlighting some wrinkles that I missed about an hour ago when I was ironing the trousers. I stopped and decided that I’d be better off if I spent a few more minutes getting the wrinkles out. I doffed the shoes and the pants and headed for the ironing board.

After all of that, I finally allowed myself to get out the door. I wonder though…was my subconscious intentionally holding me back for some reason? Do the depths of my mind know something that my conscious mind isn’t yet aware of?

Maybe it was a sign…

Ridiculous.

I should be elsewhere apparently

I think my ride back home on the train was a particularly hard one today. It wasn’t due to poor TTC service or anything of the sort, although the train I was on actually did go out of service midway causing us all to have to wait for the next train. No, it was hard because I was in something of a foul mood. I developed a bit of a dark cloud over my head after a brief conversation with a colleague where he told me that he was slightly disappointed in me for not doing any job hunting during my time off. I know he didn’t mean any malice with the comment, but the apparent judgment seemed to strike a nerve with me. See, he isn’t the only one that’s told me that. And you know what? Frankly I’m tired of hearing that people are disappointed in me for having made certain decisions.

Yes, the intentions are pure. No one that cares about me wants to see me suffer or deal with unnecessary hardships. That being said, is my situation so dire that people assume that I need an immediate way out? Maybe I’m verbose, or have a tendency to magnify my emotions. What kind of assumptions are being made? Surely, it’s all far from perfect. At the same time, it’s a job that still pays the bills. I still take pride in my work, even though the path to get to the final product is often wrapped in red tape, know what I mean?

I guess I’m just frustrated that there seems to be this expectation that I’m not where I should be. Whether or not this is true is not the issue. Like I mentioned before, just trust that when it comes time to make my move I will do so.

Older posts «

» Newer posts

Switch to our mobile site