Timothy Chen Allen

Parkour Flow video

2011-05-24T22:44:00.000-04:00

I finally got around to filming a new parkour video. This is a short video of some parkour flow work I did this afternoon near my work. I filmed a lot and mean to edit together a longer clip when I have some time. Enjoy!

Idea: The Shivery 30 Blanket Run

2010-12-23T23:46:00.002-05:00

I visited National Cathedral today with Daniel. If you haven't had the guided tour, you really should do this. We learned a lot of great things. Daniel was terrific, really curious about everything; he asked great questions of the docent.

After a trip up to the observation deck, we made the obligatory visit to the Gift Shop. We got a couple things, and when we rang up, the sales person asked if we wanted to donate $15 to buy a blanket for a needy DC family. Since I'm not a heartless ogre, I went ahead and ponied up.

Then I started thinking: $15 for a blanket. Every time I run, I see homeless guys out there freezing in sweatshirts. And I'd already been playing with the idea of doing another ultramarathon and having people donate blankets. But here is a ready-made mechanism for getting blankets into peoples' hands... just waiting for a knucklehead like me to drive people to it.

I'm not thinking of doing another 46 miler for this... first off, Sònia wouldn't have it. And second off, Sònia wouldn't have it! But I already do 30 mile training runs pretty regularly. I could just do a 30 mile run, get people to sign up and send money to the Cathedral, and voila: cold homeless people get warm! A dollar a mile pledge would equal two blankets per donation. And the block around National Cathedral is just at one mile and a bit... I could actually run the thing around the Cathedral! So I'm giving some actual thought to this. I'm not saying it's a done deal... I'm just saying it sounds do-able. Really. Hmmm.

$1075 raised by Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler!

2010-11-12T23:27:00.003-05:00

The Oyster-Adams Community Counsel folks have added up the donations made for the Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler, and so far we have raised at least $1075 for Oyster-Adams Bilingual School. You can still donate! Click here to make a donation. Thanks to all who have donated so far.

IMPORTANT: If you make a donation, please put "Daddy's Crazy 46" in the description. If not, the school won't know the DC46 was where the funds came from.

I ran 46 miles! Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler

2010-11-07T21:40:00.010-05:00

Yesterday morning at 3am, I started running. Eight hours and 42 minutes later, I finished-- and I had covered 46 miles. We did it! And when I say "we", I really mean it. No way I would have completed this without a great deal of help from some very good friends.

Friendship can be defined in a lot of different ways. One of the most beautiful examples I can think of was Sancho Panza's friendship for Don Quijote. Sancho didn't ignore that his friend was crazy-- Sancho knew that Don Quijote was crazy. Sancho supported him anyway:

"God's will be done," said Sancho. "I'll believe all your worship says, but straighten yourself a bit in the saddle...."

No one tried to talk me out of tilting this windmill. On the other hand, plenty of people helped me stay straight in the saddle! Maybe I should call you all my "enablers" instead of my "supporters"!

Thanks to all of you. Andrew, Pedro, and Fabricio who met me at mile 31 and paced me for the next 15 miles. Claire and Marcia ran with me on Adams track, and way back in August did not ask me whether I was going to do this-- they just asked me "when?" And Phoebe, who helped me steer through the details of permissions, and who got me through the OCC board last year. Jerome, Dana, Joy, and Gina, who don't even have children in the school came and cheered me on. Ibis and Karen and Maria who cleared me to use the track for the last ten miles of the run-- and thank you, Ibis for opening up and cheering me on as well. Donna, David, Maricarmen, Paco, Susana, Scott, Elisa, Diego and Marta came and ran a few laps and helped out Sonia-- you guys are our constant friends and we're always grateful for you. And thank you to everyone who contributed to the OCC-- Oyster-Adams is a better school because of you. If you're still thinking about donating, you can click here to do so.

And of course, thank you to Sonia and Daniel. What kept me going was knowing you'd be at the finish line.

It went so much better this year than last. It mostly was just better training-- I came a lot better prepared this time, having done more and longer long runs, having tested all of my equipment better, and having been much more consistent in my training. Also, just having the experience of completing the distance last year was a big psychological help. But, whereas last year I had to walk a lot after the 30 mile point, this year I was able to run the entire 46 miles. I even was able to run the last three miles at a pace near 9 minutes per mile.

Now I get to think about what to do next. Sonia has already started talking about next year-- so I guess I have the most important permission already! Now that I've done two of these, I know that it's not just a fluke. If I do a third one, I suppose I can consider it a habit. With it going so well this time, I'm wondering if I shouldn't try to get in at least one official ultramarathon a year besides this one. Hmmm.

But for now, I guess I should concentrate on recovering to the point that I can go downstairs without gritting my teeth!

My checklist for the Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler

2010-11-05T20:17:00.001-04:00

So much to remember. Here is my checklist of essentials for tomorrow's 46 mile run:

Fannypack:
IBUPROFEN
Lactic acid pills
Gels
Powerbars
Washcloth
Money
Keys
Lip balm
Batteries
Camera
Toilet paper
Whistle
Credit card, metro, license
Chalk or 16 spoons, whiteboard

Clothing:
Sweatshirt
Vamos T-shirt
Arm sleeves
Knee band
Camelback (Put Electrolyte in H2O)
Headlamp, tail-lamp
RoadID
Socks
Pants
Skivvies

Finish bag:
Water
Warm clothes for finish
Towel for finish
Potato chips
Something sweet

Tasks:
Plug in HRM tonight
HYDRATE tonight!
Breakfast morning
Take ibuprofen morning

Stock house for recovery:
Sonia, Daniel, Sparky
Ice cream, chili, pyjamas

Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler: One week to go!

2010-10-30T21:33:00.004-04:00

I'm down to seven days until the Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler. I feel like I'm ready: my training has gone well, I have my route well thought out, I know what my strategy is for the run. I even got interviewed by the Washington Post Express-- it should be on the newstands next Tuesday, I think. And yet it doesn't feel very real for me yet. When I did this a year and a half ago... it just feels like my life has changed so much since that time. We bought a house and moved from Woodley Park to Glover Park. Sonia started working at the State Department and I started walking Daniel to school in the mornings. The big snow came. I got a big promotion at FEMA. We adopted Sparky.

My dad died.

I suppose life was just different. And last time, I really wasn't certain it was possible for me to finish the run. This time, I know it's likely I'll finish it. And I'm pretty sure I'll get through it in a lot better shape this time.

One thing that keeps running through my mind is the question Vicky Hallett asked me last week in the interview: "Why are you doing this?" I don't remember my exact answer, but it was something like, "because I have to... I can't imagine not doing this." Even when I told Vicky this, I knew I wasn't fully satisfied with the answer. I wish I had said that I love the feeling of running for hours in the dark by myself. Or that the way I lived my life sixteen years ago, I used to dream about doing things like this but never could have. Or that running a long way, for me, is kind of a celebration of the fact that I'm free to do this kind of thing now.

I did explain that my head clears when I'm out there running. That running is like meditating for me, and that when I'm having a good day, the monkeys in my head stop chattering for a while. I didn't tell her that it's like a long prayer for me; it is. I wish I could explain that better. But it certainly is true, and it's a big reason for my running.

Anyway, seven days to go. And really, I can't wait to get out there and start running.

Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler: One month to go!

2010-10-06T23:05:00.003-04:00

I'm down to one month to the day until I run the Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler. I think I'm a lot better trained this year than I was for last year's 45. I've done a lot more long runs, and my longest training run was 35 miles. I found my biggest trouble happened last year after I got over my longest training run distance.

I've had some patellar tendinitis problems in my left knee, probably due to some of my poor technique in parkour. I've been using The Stick, and that seems to be helping, and I just got a foam roller today. I tried it out on my IT Band-- man, did it hurt! Apparently, that pain is a sign that I really needed it.

I will have a flyer out tomorrow with details of the run and how to donate to Oyster-Adams Community Council in support. And tomorrow I'll be taking advantage of my day off from work to run 26 miles-- just two long runs to go before I do the 46!

Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler: Date set - 6 November 2010

2010-10-03T22:16:00.004-04:00

I just got off the phone with the coach from Oyster-Adam's school: we agreed I would run the Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler the first Saturday of November, 6 November 2010. I'm really excited! And now I have to figure out some logistics: how I'm going to train between now and then (I'm thinking 18 miles Friday, 26 the next Saturday, 25 again the following, then two weeks with no long run, then run it!). I have to pick the route (easy enough: 35 miles out and back on Connecticut and Georgia Avenues, then 15 miles around the Adams track). I have to put together a flyer directing people to the donation site.

Wow, that was easy. Now all I have to do is run the thing!

Memories of my father - Red Kayak

2010-07-13T17:27:00.000-04:00

I shared this at my father's memorial ceremony:

Hi, I’m Tim Allen. I’m Dad’s youngest son, and I’d like to talk to you all about some memories that I have of my father. I think of him very often; there are certain actions that I take, that every time I take them I think of my father. I’d like to share with you one experience that I had from when I was very young. This is a poem I wrote. It’s called “Red Kayak”.

I was five
We built it of canvas and wood, and
You let me help paint it
Bright red as my bicycle

Mom and Dad painted. I was actually quite a big boy before I realized that not everybody’s houses smelled of oil paint and clay. Now, when Dad left the Marine Corps in 1973, we came here to Texas, and he became something of a hippy. He grew out his hair and he grew a beard. He designed a kiln, and he and my cousin Donny began to spin pots like madmen. Donny and Dad would pay me eight cents a bat to clean the clay off of the spinning bats. This was the first job I ever had.

It still smelled of paint and glue
When we carried it to the Ocean
Which was and still is
The largest thing I've ever seen

Dad later shared with me that it was most likely not the ocean that we carried the red kayak to, but rather a fairly small creek that was near our house in Cherry Point, North Carolina.

But I wasn't worried (much)
Because my dad was
The strongest man in the world
And smarter than the ocean

I think of Dad every time that I take our dog, Sparky, to the dog park in Washington, DC. Now, Sparky is something of a digger. She likes to dig in the dog park. We used to have dogs here in Texas, and they would dig holes in the front yard. My dad got tired of filling in the holes, so Dad worked out a system. He discovered that he could stop the dogs from digging holes if he would simply urinate in the holes the dogs had dug. And it worked. They stopped digging. I have been tempted to try this system out in Washington, DC. I haven’t done it yet.

You put me in the kayak
Got in behind me
And we began paddling
I could not see over the wave
Until we crested it, and the
Sunlight dazzled my eyes
Across the brown water

Now, I think of my dad when I look at my son, Daniel. I caught my first fish when I was four years old with my dad. We have a photo of that moment. When Daniel saw that photo when he was four years old, he could not be convinced that it was not a photo of him.

I could hear you singing
As you pulled at the water
The biggest wave in the Ocean
Crested before us
I wanted to cry out and drop my paddle

I remember Dad every time that we eat Mexican food. One time our entire family went and ate at a Mexican restaurant. We all ate way too much food, except for my dad, who ate one taco. The rest of us were sitting around, groaning about how uncomfortable we were because we were so full. And my dad said, “I ate just the right amount”. My Sister-in-Law, Liz, and I have not been able to have a meal in a restaurant since then without sharing that memory.

But you had given me a job to do
And a paddle to help keep the boat straight
And you were not afraid

I think of my dad when I make mistakes as a husband and as a father. My dad was not a perfect man, and neither am I. I especially worry during hurricane season, when my job takes me away from home so often, that I am somehow leaving Sònia and Daniel in second place. But I can assure you that I never felt like I was in second place when my dad’s work took him away from home. I knew that what my dad did was very important.

The wave crested in front of us
And we glided over the water
I was close to the world
Close to the water
And close to my father
Nothing could hurt me

I think of my dad every morning when I bring a cup of coffee to Sònia in bed. Every day, every morning that Mom and Dad were together, he would bring a cup of coffee to mom and he would give her three kisses. Every day.

We turned to shore
And landed the red kayak
I don't recall ever going out in it again
But I've returned to that Ocean many times
Grasped my paddle and pulled the water
And knew that you were behind me
The first man I ever met
And still the best man I ever met
Singing and pulling the water with me.

Things Change: The final edits are finished

2010-04-18T22:57:00.007-04:00

I finally finished editing and re-recording the 14 songs I wrote in February. They form an album called "Things Change". You can listen to the songs with the player here, or on the following page.

http://www.reverbnation.com/tunepak/2548531

This is a song cycle about recovery from addiction: what it was like, what happened, and what it's like now. The 14 tracks are built around this three part structure:

Track 1. What it was like

What happened:
Track 2. Step 1: Well I admit it
Track 3. Step 2: Always there
Track 4. Step 3: Things Change
Track 5. Step 4: I was a drunkard
Track 6. Step 5: This with me to the grave must go
Track 7. Step 6: What does it mean to be ready
Track 8. Step 7: Pawn shop
Track 9. Step 8: Rewrite history
Track 10. Step 9: Just some papers we had signed
Track 11. Step 10: Wrong wrong wrong
Track 12. Step 11: You as I understand you
Track 13. Step 12: Fully awake

Track 14: What it's like now.

The songs a really very varied. In talking with a few people, it has come up that the first song ("What is was like") is a bit sad-- as it should be. Things look up as the cycle goes along.

My favorite tracks are "Always There", "I was a drunkard", "Pawn Shop", "Fully Awake", and "What it's like now", although I really am pretty happy with all of them.

http://timothychenallen.blogspot.com/2010/04/things-change-final-edits-are-finished.html

New Song: Always There

2010-03-08T13:35:00.003-05:00

This is a work in progress called "Always There" from a 14 song set I'm working on called "Things Change". I'm still working on editing and re-recording the entire set. This is a rough version of the song I put together yesterday afternoon; I have some ideas for it that I still want to write up. But I thought it would be interesting to let people hear what what it is like along the way.

I don't mind if you didn't create everything
I don't mind if you're not always there
I don't even mind if you let me down sometimes
I just need some help with this one thing

I don't mind if you aren't always perfect
I can tell from the look of the world that that doesn't mean a thing
And besides, perfect for me can intimidate me
All I ask is that you be good enough

Cause when I'm falling down
Just need your hand to be there

I don't mind if you didn't create everything
I don't mind if you're not always there
I don't even mind if you let me down sometimes
I just need some help with this one thing

I don't mind if you aren't always perfect
I can tell by the look of the world that that doesn't mean a thing
And besides, perfect for me can intimidate me
All I ask is that you be good enough

Cause when I'm falling down
Just need your hand always there

I don't mind if you didn't create everything...

BigBrainz Timez Attack RULES!

2010-01-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

I originally became a computer programmer because I loved video games. About 500,000 lines of mostly business intelligence and database code later, I'm at peace with the fact that I'll never be a professional game programmer. But I still love a good video game.

Fast forward: I'm a dad now, and my 3rd-grade son is learning his multiplication tables. I'm pretty good at math, but I remember this being a struggle for me. Rumors of a secret weapon have been floating around my kid's school, and I finally got the scoop from one of the parents: Timez Attack.

Timez Attack looks and feels a lot like, well, Quake. No monsters being liquidated against the walls with a BFG-9000, though. The weapon here is your kid's mind: he or she blows away the baddies by answering multiplication questions correctly! As ghastly as it sounds, it works, and my kid is choosing to practice math as a result!

I, of course, had to give it a spin for myself. You'll be happy to know there is a way to test out of the lower levels-- but I found that the higher levels were surprisingly challenging. This isn't a walk in the park; you will be required to produce each math fact in about three seconds or forfeit the point. I fat-fingered an answer and crushed the monitor with my bare hands! (okay, I actually did not do that-- though I considered it!)

There are free, standard, and deluxe versions of the game. The free version is really quite fun! The upgraded versions add more environments so you aren't playing in the same dungeon every time. It's well worth a spin to see if it will work for your kid (or for you, for that matter!) Check it out here:

multiplication games from Big Brainz.

National Novel Writing Month: Completed! with an overview

2009-11-27T23:20:00.004-05:00

I finished off the very, very rough first draft of "I don't know if I love you (but I might)" at 50,024 words. This is my third year doing this. I've completed each time. This was by far the most difficult year. I searched the manuscript for something that I could excerpt out here. But there was nothing I really liked. So here is the story pitch:

Jay Boudreaux and David Goldman are driving from DC to New Orleans for Jay's father's funeral. Jay's father, Bubba Boudreaux, was a big man in New Orleans, well loved, but with a troubling past marked by alcoholism and strained relations with his wife, Sally Boudreaux. Passing through Greensboro, Jay and David get into an accident with a motorcycle driven by Sara Smith (the one character I carried over from last year's "The Duke of Sunrises"). Sara goes into a coma, and Jay and David decide to wait it out in the hospital.

Sara is stuck between life and death in something akin to the afterlife-- set in a 1950's federal building with bad florescent lighting and mismatched furniture. There she meets Bubba Boudreaux, who is being guided through his first days in the afterlife by Mason, who has been here for a few thousand years.

The back story on Sara is that she was running from DC after the death of the man she was living with, Aaron Washington. Aaron was an artist who had found recent success in the DC art scene and then committed suicide by metro train.

Sara is treated by Dr. Amir Sindh, who is completely incompetent, but who has a brilliant record of diagnosis and treatment because he is constantly accompanied by the soul of his grandmother, Zayd, who won't allow him to make a mistake. He fumbles through and finds the correct diagnosis for Sara and saves her life.

In Greensboro, David attends an AA meeting and meets two characters who are bound together by ancient history: Mr. Deacon and Missus Circe. I'll admit it here: Mr. Deacon was my favorite character. I based him on Anansi. Note: if you're writing something and can't seem to make it work, put Anansi in your story-- he can do damn near anything. A large portion of the story is about Deacon and Circe-- in reality, they originally were slaves in New Orleans who have been alive since the 1600's. Part of their history bases their relationship on love/hate, but they are inseparable on this earth.

I don't want to ruin everything, but Deacon and Circe end up being instrumental in Sara Smith coming out of her coma. There is a connection between Missus Circe and Aaron Washington, Sara's dead lover. When it is over, Missus Circe passes away.

After Sara comes out of the coma, Jay and David continue on down to New Orleans for Bubba Boudreaux's funeral only to find that Deacon has beat them to NOLA, where he is consoling his old friend and Jay's mother, Sally Boudreaux. Jay, David, Deacon, and Sally attend Bubba's funeral, where we find out that Deacon (Anansi) is able to move freely between this world and the afterlife, which makes for a little comedy with Bubba Boudreaux, the deceased.

At the end of the book, Sara Smith is back in DC, trying to piece her life back together. David and Jay are just arriving in DC, and a friendship with possibilities has struck up between David and Sara. Bubba and Missus Circe spend time in the afterlife together accompanied by Aaron Washington. And Deacon is somewhere-- not tied to any one place or any one life.

I really don't know what to do with this story. If it is like the two previous stories, it will sit on my hard disk and that will be that. I feel like I never want to look at the story again, but I just finished it today and am a little sick of it. I also know that some of my best writing went into this draft. In any case, I'm very proud and very happy to be finished.

National Novel Writing Month: Excerpt

2009-11-10T12:06:00.003-05:00

My buddy Johnny asked me to post an excerpt from my ongoing submission to National Novel Writing Month. I'm a little over 13,000 words into it. The working title is, "I don't know if I love you (but I might)":

Sally Boudreaux held the funeral announcement in her hands and shook her head in disbelief. Boudreaux was possibly one of the most common names in New Orleans; hell, it might just be the most common name. Boudreauxs had been some of the first settlers of this god forsaken place, had probably worked some of the first ships to land at the port of New Orleans four hundred years ago, had most likely populated just about every square mile from the French Quarter to the Lake Pontchartrain. Boudreaux was a pretty damn popular name in New Orleans.

And those dumb sons-of-a-bitches had misspelled Boudreaux on her husband’s funeral announcements. Boudreax.

What the hell was she going to do?

She’d have to deal with it. She’d have to deal with every damned thing. Larry and Michelle would mean well, but they had five kids to take care of—five! And her other son, Jay… well, Jay.

Sally put down the funeral announcement and looked down into her coffee cup. Jay.

She had finished the cup and stood to get a refill. It occurred to her that she could walk down to The Last Drop and have someone make breakfast for her. But Sally just was not ready for all of her neighbors who frequented The Last Drop to sympathize with her, to crowd around her to see if she was doing all right.

She was doing all right. Of course she was doing all right. Bubba Boudreaux—not Boudreax—had been a miserable son-of-a-bitch who had two-timed Sally miserably. He had been drunk and disorderly in just about every bar on Bourbon Street, had gotten his sorry ass thrown out of places it was damn near impossible to get thrown out of, and had gotten her woken up to bail him out of the parish drunk tank more times than she liked to imagine. Things had taken a turn for the better the day that Bubba Boudreaux—not Boudreax—had finally kicked the bucket with an esophageal hemorrhage. She hoped it hurt. She hoped it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

Sally held the funeral announcement to her face and sobbed into it, the ink staining her cheeks.

New song: Sitting in a circle

2009-11-03T21:04:00.005-05:00

"Sitting in a circle" by Timothy Chen Allen

We are sitting in a circle
in a room above a store
and we're waiting for a sign that never comes

And we look into each others' eyes
and wonder if it's wrong
to be impatient with the process
brings us home

And I would not believe
that you would ever look away
I'd be a sorry friend to think of you that way

But I myself am falling asleep right now
I can't do much more than promise that I'll stay

But I myself am having trouble opening my eyes
I'd like to go to sleep right now if I may.

http://timothychenallen.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-song-sitting-in-circle.html

New song: Chameleon

2009-10-27T21:29:00.002-04:00

"Chameleon" by Timothy Chen Allen
(I wasn't feeling particularly positive about myself when I wrote this)

I'll find out who you want
And be that all night long
I'm a chameleon
I'll be so good to you
I'll treat your mother good, too
I'm a chameleon

I know you look at me
Believing what you see is
Real, real, real
But when you turn around
I'll drop my colors down
Blink and you'll never see

Chameleon-meleon
Try all my colors on
See what looks good on me
Don't know quite who I am
Want you to lend a hand
Say what you like to see

The smile that's on my face
It hides an empty case
Nothing behind the glass
Don't like to meet my kind
Two lizards never find
The color of our mask, mask, mask

Chameleon-meleon
Try all my colors on
See what looks good on me
Don't know quite who I am
Want you to lend a hand
Say what you like to see

New song: Wired differently

2009-10-20T12:37:00.001-04:00

"Wired differently" by Timothy Chen Allen

I learned something about you
You're just wired differently
Some of what you see so clearly
I'd need a telescope to see

And I could build a spaceship
And try to fly to the moon
But by the time I get you
You and your wiring move too soon

And if I yield to your wiring
I only start to feel confused
All of my breakers blowing
All of my circuits melt their fuse

Compared to you
My CPU's held in with electrical tape
I try and I try to replace it
But the circuit pins start to break

But that's just how I like it
I'm wired differently, too
And when my system's in complete shutdown
My only warm restart is you
Waiting 'til my meltdown's through
'Til my command prompt comes back
Waiting in the green screen glow
Sorry, I know my drives are slow

And that's not the end of the story
There is no manual for you
I know if I called the help desk
The late night technician never heard of you
Sometimes I feel a fool
Standing next to you
But my wirings in your hands
But you're just wired differently
That's the story of you and me
Don't take a CRT to read it
A kid with a slide rule could see it

New song: Something about me I didn't need

2009-09-19T08:29:00.001-04:00

"Something about me I didn't need" by Timothy Chen Allen

In the midst of the forest I buried the box
With the memory too painful to face
And tore up the map as I turned my way home
Swearing I'd not go back to that place

With the dirt on my hands and the mud on my boots
As exhausted I fell in my chair
As I closed my eyes I felt something was missing
Some old comfort of mine wasn't there

I left a part of me
Within your memory
Something about me that I didn't need
That's probably true

I left a part of me
Within your memory
With each passing day
It's better this way
I try not to miss it
The way that I try not to think about you

In the midst of the forest I found myself walking
I tried to remember the place
Where I'd buried the box with the memory that hurt me
The tears rolling down on my face

After hours of searching I came to the crossroads
Where I'd put our memory to rest
But the site was now empty
The marker was stolen
And nowhere could I find the chest

I left a part of me...

New song: Eres mi corazón

2009-09-12T08:44:00.001-04:00

"Eres mi corazón" by Timothy Chen Allen

Eres mi corazón
Eres mi corazón
Lo que me dijiste anoche queda grabado en mi corazón por siempre
Corazón

No te digo que todo se arregla
Un cuento en que comemos perdices
Tampoco el mundo no tiene sus hadas
Mi corazón
Eres mi corazón

Eres mi noche en blanco
Eres mi estrella fugaz
El frenazo que deja huella en la calle
Eres tú

A solas en casa
Te oigo la voz
Tan alta que los vecinos se asustan
Tan alta que siento las paredes temblando
Tan alta que gritas que tú me quieres
Eres tú
Mi corazón

Eres mi vida entera
Por bien o por mal
Te deje las llaves de toda mi vida
Encima de la mesa al lado tus gafas
No me las pierdes que no me quedan otras
Y son un pastón y no me pagan hasta viernes
Mi corazón

Translation:
You are my heart
You are my heart
That thing you said last night is recorded in my heart forever
My heart

I'm not saying that everything works out
To be a fairy tale: happily ever after
But the world isn't without its magic
My heart
You are my heart

You are my sleepless night
My one shooting star
The squealing brakes that leave a tire track in the street
That's you

Alone in our house
I hear your voice
So loud that the neighbors begin to get scared
So loud that I can feel the walls begin to tremble
So loudly you tell me that you love me
It's you
My heart

You are my whole life
For good or for bad
I left you the keys to my entire life
On your bedside table next to your glasses
Please don't lose them, I don't have another set
And they cost an arm and a leg and I don't get paid until Friday
My heart

New song: Everybody wants a plucking time machine

2009-08-21T06:07:00.011-04:00

"Everybody wants a plucking time machine" by Timothy Chen Allen

WARNING: DIRTY WORDS! FOUL LANGUAGE! AWKWARD CONCEPTS!

Click here to see the decidedly adult lyrics

There are things in this world I have wished for
Love and kindness and peace with my fellow man
I can smile at the dreams of my childhood
But I still dream a dream when I can...

Safe SQL LIKE conditions in Ruby On Rails

2009-08-11T14:14:00.002-04:00

This is a problem that was driving me a little nuts. In this discussion of how to write a Ruby on Rails query without leaving myself open to a SQL Injection, I found this passage:

"Building your own conditions as pure strings can leave you vulnerable to SQL injection exploits. For example, Client.first(:conditions => "name LIKE '%#{params[:name]}%'") is not safe. See the next section for the preferred way to handle conditions using an array."

However, they never show how to actually write the exact query to replace the unsafe one safely. Here it is:


escaped_query =  params[:name].gsub('%', '\%').gsub('_', '\_')
@posts = Post.find(:all, :conditions=> ["subject like :eq or name like :eq", {:eq => "%" + escaped_query + "%"}])

New song: Waiting for Winter

2009-08-07T15:58:00.003-04:00

"Waiting for winter" by Timothy Chen Allen

Where are you flying now?
The winds have all died
The heat of Summer drove the birds back inside
And if you're with me now
Don't know where to look
Somewhere inside you must be
Somewhere inside of me

I went to look for you one day in the park
I caught a glimpse of you just as it got dark
And I ran screaming for you not to fly away
It did no good I lost you then
I guess you'll always be within

Somewhere inside of me

The year is fading now
The sky has gone gray
I climb the fence and watch the leaves blow away
You're sitting with me now
Looking at the sky
Waiting for winter to be
Somewhere inside of me

Video: Daybreak Training - Parkour

2009-08-03T08:49:00.002-04:00

This was a parkour training session I did recently. The background music is an instrumental called "Plowshares" I wrote for the film-- and since I've been too sick to get it together, this is my weekly song as well:

New song: Everything that isn't you

2009-07-24T00:00:00.002-04:00

"Everything that isn't you" by Timothy Chen Allen

The end of this song echoes the first song I wrote this year: "If I can find a way I can find you

Sha la la la la bang bang yeah!
You... didn't leave me much to think of you
Just this house... full of everything that isn't you
What a thing to do
You got a lot of nerve
I knew that from the day we met
You're the girl I never could forget
Now you think I'm gonna wait around 'til you're back in town
Well babe, I've got no pride
Don't bother me none to cry
Sha la la la la bang bang yeah!

We... we've been through such an awful lot
Such an awful lot of stuff we've got
But it does no good
'Cause everything that isn't you
Reminds me of you
Don't know what to do
Sha la la la la bang bang yeah!

If I could find a way I could find you
If I could know a way I could touch you
If I could find a way that you want me to find you...

Sha la la la la bang bang yeah!

New song: Patient

2009-07-17T00:23:00.001-04:00

"Patient" by Timothy Chen Allen

I'm not very good at waiting, but I have to
I'm not good at being patient, but I'm getting that way
And you are so far
And I am still here
I'm not very good at waiting, but I have to

No me gusta esperar mas te espero
No es fácil ser paciente no mi vida
Si allá es de día
Y aquí es de noche
¿Cómo debo recordarte? Quiero verte

I'm not very good at waiting, but I have to
When I said goodbye I didn't mean for always
Close my eyes and I see you
How much longer? It feels forever
I'm not very good at waiting, but I have to

Y tú llevas el mejor parte de mí
Dentro de ti
And I have got to learn to wait a little more each day
Until you find your way
Back home

I'm not very good at waiting, but I have to
I'm not good at being patient, but I'm getting that way
I'm not good at being patient
I'm not good at being patient
I'm not good at being patient

New song: Icarus wing

2009-07-11T14:00:00.003-04:00

I am not afraid
But I am alone here
If I were to fall here...

This place is not so high
But high enough to hurt me
There is no hand to catch me
If I were to fall

Everything is still
The air is filled with sweetness
The tide flows out beneath me

Now I'm flying
Over rooftops
Gravity talks
But I am not listening
It cannot touch me here
The ground must forget me here
If I were to fall

You look up now
You would not see me
I'm high overhead
And gaining momentum
The sun reaches out a hand
I'm not afraid of falling
But if I were to fall

The world is moving fast
The sky catches my wings now
My feathers fall away now

I am feeling calm
The sun shines on the river
The air is filled with sweetness

The final moment comes
I know the ground will catch me
I knew that this would happen
If I were to fall

New song: Sleep this day away

2009-07-05T02:22:00.002-04:00

I'm awake
But I'm dreaming of your face
Some other kind of place
I would rather be
Please don't ask me
If I want to stop dreaming

Tie me down
I know damn well I should be
Wide awake
It'd be a big mistake
To go back to sleep
I can't help it
I just keep on
Wishing I could keep on dreaming

Don't wake me up
I'm sleepy tired
And my head's started aching
I won't be waking
Before midday today
I'll sleep this day away
If I could only find a way
To go on dreaming

Wake me up
'Cause you're a dream
That's just too good to be true
I'm not with you
And that's the way it must be
I'll never be free
As long as you are just a dream
That's dreaming about me

New song: It doesn't happen without you

2009-06-28T00:21:00.001-04:00

Sònia and Daniel are in Spain for a month. I wrote this song about that.

I may think that things are going just fine
And I'll tell you everything is going my way
I may even say I'm better off like this
And maybe I'll convince you that it's true

But in the bathroom mirror facing myself
I know what's the truth
All the things that happen in my life
It doesn't happen without you

I've got a fine collection of memories
I like to polish them and hold them to the light
Times our laughter had no reason at all
Or we cried because our hope was gone

But everything looks different than I thought
The blues turn into gray
And when I only have myself to think of you
It doesn't happen without you

I know this situation comes to an end
I know the day you're coming home
And I can call you almost any time I want
It really hasn't been that bad

But then the moments drag into the days
And the days drag into weeks
My heart doesn't know what time it is today
That doesn't happen without you
Without you

New song: United us of you and me

2009-06-16T09:50:00.004-04:00

The idea came from something my sister-in-law Liz said in our wedding: Sonia and I would form a nation of two, a "United States of Tim and Sonia"

"United us of you and me" by Timothy Chen Allen
Sònia, I read the paper just the other day
How life is hard in the USA
I don’t believe it and I have to say
Love's still free
United us of you and me
You know that's how it's got to be
United us of you and me
Don’t need no fence to keep folks out
It's you and me and baby there's no doubt
Our only natural resource here is love
But that's enough

Sònia, the Arabs and the Jews don’t get along
Even Andorra wants to have a bomb
I don’t get it, I just get it wrong
But peace still talks and love is free
United us of you and me
You know it's got to be us three
United us of you and me
Peace has to start with you and me
And all the folks we happen to see
We’re on to something and it might be true
Just me and you
It's us three
United us of you and me
That's how we’ll make the people free
United us of you and me
It’ll work on everything we see
United us of you and me
You know that's how it's got to be
United us of you and me

New song: We’ll be all right, Sònia

2009-06-10T07:26:00.003-04:00

"We’ll be all right, Sònia" by Timothy Chen Allen

My Sònia
It ain’t a question of right or wrong
Sometimes the answer’s to sing along
Don’t get me wrong, Sònia

You’re good to me
There ain’t no place I would rather be
Lost in your eyes is a part of me
And that’s the truth, Sònia

You don’t have to look beyond our door
Everything we need is here and more
And if the paycheck don’t quite reach
Our love is growing each and every day

Sònia
Don’t try to make all the numbers right
There ain’t a cloud in the sky tonight
We’ll be all right, Sònia
We’ll be all right, Sònia

First Annual Daddy's Crazy 45 Miler

2009-06-07T23:59:00.008-04:00

This was not the craziest idea I ever had, but it came pretty close.

A few months back I ran my first ultramarathon, the HAT 50K. It was fun and a culmination of a careful, scientific training program. In other words, I just pretty much started running really long runs on Sundays with no regards for building up, injuries, or anything. Essentially, I just simply brute forced my way to my first ultra and got away with it.

So, now fueled by unearned success, I decided that that was all and I was done with ultramarathoning. Except... I realized that my normal training run was 22.5 miles. And I was turning 45 this June 30. And that if you run my 22.5 mile run twice, that's 45 miles! That's all it took. I was committed to running 45 miles for my birthday. Honestly, that was my thought process.

Well, my crazy dream happened Saturday. I modified the route to run around my block, because Sònia wanted to give me support. And I modified the date so the run would happen before Sònia and Daniel went on vacation and before the end of school. Because somewhere in there it turned into a fund-raiser for Oyster-Adams School.

I took off at 4 am on Saturday, accompanied by my buddy Jimm. I had gotten a solid 30 minutes of sleep the night before. Just impossible to sleep. I knew that was going to happen. Jimm had committed to seeing me to the end of the run as soon as I announced it. And he did, although he had to drop out for a few miles because his knee started to bug him.

In fact, I was never alone. At around 20 miles we started to pick up pacers. Oyster-Adams parents who came and ran a few miles with us, or eight or nine or ten. First David and Tim R., then Elizabeth and Mike and their dog, then Allison my co-worker and Mike my boss. Then Paco and Andrew and Claire and Mikelle and Diego and Wendy and Elena and Stefan and S'not... I lost count of all my pacers.

Sònia started to bring out a steady stream of peanut butter sandwiches and potato chips and gatorade when we hit the halfway point. Spectators started to show up at around the 30 mile point, when I was really starting to feel the run. Folks I meet for coffee in the mornings, and more parents, and their kids-- and then a group of kids joined the run. My son, Daniel, ran two and a half miles.

By forty miles I had a train of pacers with me. We picked up Mary and Till, some neighbors who didn't even have a kid in the school, who just wanted to see who all of these crazy people were. Jimm was next to me, telling me I could actually run up the hill when I wanted to walk it. And Sònia was yelling with a group of parents at the toughest point of the course. I started to choke up at how much these people were doing just because I had had this crazy idea. Mikelle was running next to me and got concerned about my breathing-- I laughed and said, "no problem, it's just that this is really beautiful".

The last few laps were a blur, and at the same time I felt every step. My hips had begun to hurt in the last 13 miles. Somehow, Jimm got me fired up to run the very last hill, and three turns later we were on the home stretch.

I have never won a race in my life. Not one. No high school track winning memories, not even a weird age-group win in a road race. And this was not a race. But I know what it feels like to win one now. The crowd at the last turn exploded as our group got close. Sònia ran to me and grabbed my hand, and we made the last corner together. When my Garmin beeped off the 45th mile, I yelled out, "¡Cuarente y cinco!" And then we stopped. We didn't have to run anymore.

I thanked Sònia for supporting this crazy dream that I'm sure she didn't understand. And I thanked my pacers and the people who contributed and the people who cheered and set up water stops along the way. I thanked Jimm after forgetting to thank him the first time through. I'm sure I forgot someone along the way.

So that's it. Except... I was thinking that next year I turn 46. And I kind of like the sound of "The Second 1st Annual Daddy's Crazy 46 Miler"...

New song: With you

2009-06-04T23:40:00.001-04:00

My mom asked me to write her and dad a song for their 53rd anniversary. Here it is.
I'm in Albuquerque without a guitar, so this one is A Capella. This song is, essentially, a prayer.

"With you" by Timothy Chen Allen

I don't want to have to grow old
But if I have to
I'll grow old with you

I don't want to have to grow old
But if I have to
I'll grow old with you

When I'm feeling tired
I will lay down
You'll be my last breath

I know that we just met
It's too soon to say this
What I want to say to you
I don't want to spend another day
Not knowing if I'll spend my life with you

When my hair is gray
I want you there
You'll be my one song

I know if I let you walk away
I'll dream my life
About a life with you

I don't want to have to grow old
But if I have to
I'll grow old with you

I don't want to have to grow old
But if I have to
I'll grow old with you

New song: Te he visto (I just saw you)

2009-05-26T12:40:00.002-04:00

Sonia and I just lost a good friend. This is about her. Adios, Angeles.

"Te he visto (I just saw you)" by Timothy Chen Allen
Te he visto
En la sonrisa de mi hijo
Bailando en camino a la escuela

Te he visto
El eco de tu risa
En la vuelta de la esquina a mediodía

Y por mucho que me dicen que te has marchado
Te sigo viendo por aquí

Te he visto
En la sombra del puente
Que cruzaste conmigo
Te he visto

Te he visto
Y no consigo convencerme que es mi imaginación
Pero te he visto

Y por mucho que expliquen
Que los ángeles son de cuenta
No te quito de mi mente

Te he visto
Y aunque sigo con mi vida
Tomo pausa por un momento para sonreír

Te he visto
En las nubes subrayadas
Por los 747
En el atardecer

Y aunque no lo creyerían
Tu sonrisa me persigue
No consigo olvidarte

Te he visto
En el cajón que nunca abro
En el vaso olvidado
Te he visto

Te he visto
Y no quiero dejar de verte
Aunque ya te has marchado...

Translation:
I just saw you
In my son’s smile
Dancing on the way to school

I just saw you
The echo of your laughter
Just around the corner at noon

And even though they tell me that you are gone
I keep seeing you around here

I just saw you
In the shadow of the bridge
You crossed with me
I just saw you

I just saw you
And I can’t manage to convince myself that it’s just my imagination
But I just saw you

And even though they explain
That angels are from fairy tales
I can’t get you out of my mind

I just saw you
And even though my life goes on
I take a moment to smile

I just saw you
In the clouds overhead
Underlined by 747’s
In the afternoon

And even though they wouldn’t believe it
Your smile follows me
I can’t manage to forget you

I just saw you
In the drawer I never open
In the forgotten glass
I just saw you

I just saw you
And I don’t want to stop seeing you
Even though you are gone...

New song: Flying kites on Tuesday

2009-05-19T07:24:00.004-04:00

Daniel asked me to write another song about him and his mom.

Your eyes reflect a promise
I never thought that keeping would be wise
It's in your eyes
But we're flying kites on Tuesday
And nothing else could be as good as that

Nothing I know
Could compare to sleeping in a bed too small for three
The monkey in the middle here is kicking me
And I ain't got a good night sleep
Since the night that you were born

It's got away from me
Sometimes I wonder how it will work out
I don't know
But we're throwing sticks in Rock Creek
And nothing else could be as good as that

Nothing I know
And I'm not in any hurry to put on my shoes
The boy with sunshine in his hair don't like to lose
And the lady of the castle just got splashed from head to toe
How did it get like this?

Now I can't keep from yawning
And I'm sleeping before I can turn the page
Just can't go on
But your foot is in my ribs now
And I straighten up and read you three words more
Before I snore
Then you give up and you take the book away from me
The dogs are driving to a party in a tree
And I am dreaming of a place
Exactly like the place where I am now

New song: Know the difference

2009-05-12T07:50:00.000-04:00

"Know the difference" by Timothy Chen Allen
I'd like to think that I'm wrong
What I see in your eye
I don't really see
And this isn't goodbye
I did nothing wrong
And the glass didn't break
I won't go home alone
And my heart won't ache

But I'm old enough to know
Sometimes these things don't work
Ain't nobody's fault
No one's got to feel hurt
Start again next week
Sometimes we lose and we win
I think I know the difference

You think today's not the day
You've worked a real long time
Chasing demons away
You know the voices inside
Saying give him a chance
Sometimes those voices are fools
You're old enough to know
Don't want to break your own rules

But you're old enough to know
Sometimes life takes a chance
It isn't all win or lose
Sometimes it asks you to dance
Life don't start next week
This time it's holding your hand
You think you know the difference

I'd like to think that I'm wrong
That I'm not the right man
What I see in your eye
But now you're holding my hand
We don't have enough time
To make mistakes again
You could just drop my hand
I could just be your friend

But I've got a lot of friends
And they laugh at my jokes
But sometimes nights feel dark
And my hands feel cold
I don't need another friend
I need something more
I think you know the difference

New song: Maybeland

2009-05-04T07:33:00.002-04:00

One day soon you'll buy all of your books from Borders, all of your electronics from Best Buy, and everything else at Walmart... oops, already there.

"Maybeland" by Timothy Chen Allen
I'm dreaming of all of the good dreams we had
I'm wondering how so good got so bad
I bought the house, I bought the dog
Now I'm moving it all
To Maybeland

Don't tell me you don't play the same game
Under our smiles our weaknesses all look the same
You gave to Greenpeace
You bought the ribbon
Now you're taking it back
To Maybeland

Back then my heroes all were the Angry Young Man
But my heroes got married and their timeshare's
In Maybeland

We need a cup of coffee
We all are asleep
Or we'll be counting ourselves
When we're all counting sheep

But Dole owns the coffee
And the cup is from Walmart
Jesus Christ owns a Starbucks
The grind's Maybeland

New song: The Mystery of My Girl

2009-04-30T06:55:00.003-04:00

"The Mystery of My Girl" by Timothy Chen Allen

I got a crazy feeling
I can't explain it to you
You'll have to feel it for yourself

You talk of mysteries we believe in
I got a mystery I'm seeing
This is the mystery of my girl

It's the way that she screams
And the way that she fights
And the way that she holds my hand all night
You just don't know my girl

She don't say things that she doesn't believe
And it makes me so mad that I want to leave
But I can't leave my girl

If your sweet illusion is a slamming door
That somehow leaves you gasping for more
You may have run into my girl

She don't make promises that she won't keep
And I can promise you you'll lose some sleep
Understanding the mystery of my girl

You don't have all of the strength that you need
And if you want to try be prepared to bleed*
I bleed for my girl

You can't understand and you never should try
But the thing is my girl makes me feel alive
She's a mystery my girl

She's my girl
You'll never get it my girl

My girl
She'd tear your heart out my girl

I got a crazy feeling
I can't explain it to you
That's the mystery of my girl

(*Apologies to Joni Mitchell)

New Song: Batman Loves Wonderwoman

2009-04-20T09:36:00.001-04:00

Diana Prince" is Wonderwoman's secret identity here on Earth. Not to beat you over the head with the imagery, but Tim = Batman, Sonia = Wonderwoman, etc

"Batman Loves Wonderwoman" by Timothy Chen Allen
Let's take the Batmobile and just ride
Or throw a picnic in your see-thru jet plane
Alfred can hang out with Robin
While we're flying down the coast
The bad guys have to wait until tomorrow
Just need to talk with you
Diana

We're working hundred hour weeks
It seems that evil never takes a break now
It's like we have to save the world
But when's the last time we held hands?
This time I think we've got to save each other
Don't want to fight no more
Diana

No one ever has to know
Your secret here is safe with me
It doesn't matter where we go
As long as you are here with me

Up here at 30,000 feet
I swear to you my love for you's forever
Of that you can be sure
And when we both are old and gray
I'm sure by then that Robin will be ready
Leave it to him to save the day
Diana

New Song: I don't know if I love you (but I might)

2009-04-14T09:45:00.006-04:00

This is about how I met Sònia. It's tough enough to tell someone you have a big crush on them, but it gets a lot more complicated when you don't really know how to speak their language. It seems to have worked; we've been married for almost nine years now.

This is one of the few Country and Western songs I've written. I never have owned up to it, but I like how clever the lyrics are in a lot of C&W songs (witness Barbara Mandrell's (sic) "Nobody"¹ or even K.D. Lang's "Wash Me Clean"). I guess I still have a little Lumberton in me still.

You can listen to this in the player in the upper right hand corner of this site.

[1. NB: "Nobody" was performed by "Sylvia". Dang synapses.]

I don't know if I love you (but I might)

I came here to find you
But I don’t know who you are
I’ve been around this block before
Seeing the same tired faces
Wearing the same tired smiles
I know that here I won’t find you
No, here I won’t find you

I travelled to find you
But I don’t know just why
Don’t know the language
Don’t know the place
Don’t know the question that my heart’s been asking
But I know if there’s an answer
I’m hoping you know the answer

I don’t know,
But the moon is shining just as hard as it can shine
I don’t know
If your heart is breaking
But it’s surely breaking mine
And I don’t know if I can walk away
Without putting up a fight
I don’t know if I love you but I might

I’ve got to know you
But I don’t know where to start
My head is saying, “just walk away”
But if you could hear the words
That I’ve got here in my heart
I know that you’d know the answer
Yes, you are my answer

New Song: Leaning Forward

2009-04-07T09:35:00.004-04:00

Inspired by The Robert T. Stafford Disaster Relief and Emergency Assistance Act
(you can listen to this song in the player on the upper right hand side of this page)

I can't meet you more than halfway there
I can only meet you halfway there
When I tried to do it on my own
I found I was alone

I can't do much more than hold your hand
While you're standing up I'll hold your hand
I tried leaning forward times before
And wound up face down on the floor

I know you expected Superman
Bur I'm already doing all I can
But if you want a guy to take you home
I won't leave you alone
We're almost halfway home
We're almost halfway home

I actually recorded two versions of this. The first one had three vocal parts, rhythm guitar, and slide guitar. I finished recording it and while it was converting to MP3, I started strumming and singing the melody... and realized it was a lot better without all of that junk on top of it. One day I *will* write one with a slide guitar part, though...

New song: Nada es sencillo - Nothing is simple

2009-04-02T12:21:00.003-04:00

Ayer por la mañana te miré la cara mientras dormias
Ayer por la noche te miré la espalda en el frio
Si hay algo en esta vida que he aprendido
Es que nada es tan sencillo como creo

Ayer mientras caminaba pensaba en una canción que escribiste
Ayer mientras trabajaba se me olvidó todo que me dijiste
Si hay algo en esta vida que he aprendido
Es que nada es tan sencillo

Ayer por la tarde nos sentamos en el suelo de tu piso
Intentando entendernos, riendo de las palabras que no sabía
Si hay algo en esta vida que he aprendido
Es que nada es tan sencillo como creo

Translation:
Yesterday morning I looked at your face while you slept
Yesterday evening I looked at your back in the cold
If there is something in this life that I have learned
It's that nothing is as simple as I believe...

Yesterday while I walked I thought of a song you wrote
Yesterday while I worked I forgot all of the words you told me
If there is something in this life that I have learned
It's that nothing is simple

Yesterday afternoon we sat on the floor of your apartment
Trying to understand each other
Laughing at the words I didn't know
If there is something in this life that I have learned
It's that nothing is as simple as I believe

New song: It's a real good day

2009-03-27T10:07:00.003-04:00

I wrote this one for Daniel. I got the guitar part and some of the harmonies down on Wednesday and finished the lyrics this morning. You can listen to the song on the player on this page.

Here are the lyrics:
I never told you how
One time I thought that I was having a bad day
A real bad day
And then I woke you up
You told me about a dream you'd had
You were flying without wings

And then you picked me up
Flew over Union Station
Saw our old house on Alt de Pedrell
Somewhere between blue and Barcelona
I knew it was a real good day

It's a real good day for changing my point of view
(things can only get better/and right now is forever)
It's a real good day for spending my day with you
(got to live for the moment / ain't no time like the present)

The city's waking up
The guy next door is singing loud in the shower
The cell phone rings

I climb in next to you
And listen to you breathing, now I am snoring
Just let it ring

And now we are so high
The earth is just another dot in a sky full of stars in the night
Now you look at me and laugh like sunshine
Today, it is a real good day

It's a real good day for sleeping in the whole day through
(leave tomorrow tomorrow, today is getting away)
It's a real good day for spending my day with you
(just forget all that sorrow / we have only today)
It's a real good day for changing my point of view
(things can only get better / and right now is forever)
It's a real good day for spending my day with you
(got to live for the moment / ain't no time like the present)

HAT 50K - 6:59:30: My first ultramarathon

2009-03-21T18:15:00.008-04:00

Predictably, I couldn't sleep last night-- I tossed and turned and got about three hours of sleep before the alarm went off at 4. I reviewed my checklist, ate a bowl of oatmeal, and went and waited to get picked up by my new ultramarathoning friend, Jimm.

It was cold this morning. We headed up to Havre de Grace and sat in the parking lot, shivering, waiting for packet pickup to start. I really was pretty unsure as to what to wear. I had brought a lot of stuff to put on. I got lucky today and hit the right combination. Arm sleeves (affectionately known as "arm panties") are key, I found out. I felt pretty silly putting them on, but they were perfect. I was freezing at the starting line, but the temperature fluctuated all during the race. I was glad I could roll my sleeves up and down. I have a very funky tan on my forearms now, though.

I learned a few things out there today. I thought about it as I ran: In a 31 mile race like this, you have to get it all right on several points:

Logistics - in a 10k, you put your shoes on and run. Marathon and above, your race can end because you wore the wrong socks or made a bad choice of hydration systems. At a minimum, you can be miserable for a long, long time.

Awareness - this was a trail run, and there were roots to trip on, branches to brain yourself with, and trail markers to miss. I missed the 27 mile marker and almost ran off the course! Thank god someone yelled at me and I ran back, sheepishly. You have to crank up your awareness, even though tiredness makes you want to drift off into la la land.

Efficiency - at this distance, it's not about being the strongest and fastest. A lot of it is about expending the least amount of energy. I found myself shortening up my strides and just grinding up the hills. I remembered how pounded my legs would feel at the end of my 22 mile training runs, and I knew that if I didn't take care of them, it would be a lot worse at the 30 mile point.

Determination - it just takes pushing through sometimes, the determination to stick to concentrating on good running form, and running when you feel like lying down. This sounds trite, but this was key, especially when I really hit a rough patch around mile 28.

So that's my formula for getting through the 31 miler: LAED. Either get LAED, or you get screwed.

At one point I looked down at my GPS watch just as it clicked over 26.2 miles. I had just run a standard marathon distance and I still had about five miles to go. A few steps later, I realized that I had just run further than I had ever run in my life. In fact, every step I took was the farthest I had ever run. Wow.

Some great people out on the trail helped me. The volunteers in this race were magic. There were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Chips Ahoy cookies at the second rest stop, and I am sure that I have never tasted a better PB&J in my entire life. I really don't understand what motivates race volunteers. Those people froze for eight hours and prepared food for sweaty, sometimes grumpy runners. Maybe it's just my depleted glycogen reserves talking, but I love those people.

And the other runners encouraged me. When they heard it was my first ultra, they gave me advice, salt pills, and encouragement. At mile 28 I started to fade really badly. I knew I would finish, but I had no idea how it was going to happen. I just wanted to lay down. A lady from Annapolis whose name I never learned ran up alongside, and I just whispered, "I'm really having a rough patch." She listened to me for a while, and eventually we started running again. She ran with me for about two miles, until we could hear the crowds cheering at the finish line. By then my adrenaline had kicked in and I really started running again.

My last mile was one of the fastest of the race. As I ran up the field, I could see Jimm waiting at the finish pavilion. He ran out to me and started yelling for me to pick it up. I heard one specific thing: "Tim, there's food". I yelled back, "Jimm, tell me about the food". He told me there were hot dogs and soup and Jambalaya. I yelled back, "Jambalaya?! Let's go!". We ran in as fast as we could. Jimm had finished the race more than half an hour before and still paced me in. I'm sure I could not have sprinted it in without him (okay, I am being very generous with myself saying "sprint").

When we turned the corner and I could see the finisher's clock, I could not believe that it was at 6:59:25. I was going to break seven hours! I put in a final push and crossed the line in 6:59:30. One of the race organizers congratulated me and gave me a hat (of course) and a stadium chair. No medals were awarded-- and I'm not sure I wanted one. I've got my medal right here inside.

Night before the HAT 50K

2009-03-20T21:52:00.011-04:00

Tomorrow is the HAT 50K run. It will be my first ultramarathon, and the farthest I have ever run in my life (if I finish!). I'm not nervous... okay, a little. Over the last couple of long runs I've made a list of stuff to carry:

Pre race: Bike Shorts, Blinker, Butt pack, Camelback, GUs, Garmin chest strap, Garmin watch, ID, Credit card, Injinji toe socks (two pairs), Insurance Card, Keys, Lucky Towel, Money, Montrails, Nike Trail Runners, Nike Blue Shirt, Phone Carrier, Reflective vest, Road ID, Support underwear, Toilet paper, Water bottle, Whistle

Post race: Jeans, shirt, new socks, sandals, money, sandwich?, camera?

The HAT is logistically easier because I'll pass back through the starting point several times during the race. Then I can make any equipment changes I may need to make. I'm getting picked up by another runner at 5 am. I'm truly exhausted, but if this goes anything like previous races I won't be able to sleep tonight.

Someday I'll look back at this and laaaaugh.

Songwriting Cliches

2009-03-05T13:13:00.002-05:00

I finished off February Album Writing Month with fourteen songs written: mission accomplished. And oddly, I've gone back down to write twice at 5 am this month as well. I didn't expect to want to continue, but I did.

A question came up on the songwriting forum for FAWM: "what are your musical cliches?" In other words, what words, musical themes, etc keep showing up again and again. Kind of like the word "Sunshine" in James Taylor's old stuff.

Here was my answer:

Mine are simple:
1) Lots of E6. I get extra excited if I can end a song on E6. At least three of my songs started in E6 this year (wait... 4... 5... shit, all of them did) (If you don't know what E6 sounds like, the Beatles use it to end "Help!")
2) 7th chords. I just wrote one with E6 into A7 and I thought I saw Jeebus (This morning in "Deer in Headlights").
3) Most of my songs have the word "darkness" in them somewhere. I think this has less to do with any emotional darkness and more to do with the fact that my family life requires me to get up at 5 am to write.
4) I almost always have a section of two or three voice parts going "Dah... Dah dah dah duh". My seven year old son pointed this out to me.
5) I won't write a song in which the primary phrase is three chords. I'll mess up a perfectly good song just so it will have a more complex chord progression.
6) Three part harmony!
7) Oh, and finishing the song by singing the first line of the song again, slowly for dramatic effect (pause to barf on self). I did this on like 16 of the 14 songs I wrote this time.

FAWM: 13 songs written

2009-02-26T22:07:00.004-05:00

February Album Writing Month (FAWM) is winding down. I have 13 of the 14 songs written and have started the 14th song. Several important things have happened this month as a result of attempting to write 14 songs in one month.

The first and most important is that my wife, Sònia, has noticed that I'm a lot happier guy this month. Apparently something about writing music makes me feel good.

The second is that I have gotten a lot better at coming up with songs, figuring out harmonies for them, and recording them. The time pressure is the thing. I think I normally try doodling with the guitar and singing a little, then I realize that what I'm doodling with could go off in four different directions. So I get flustered trying to decide between the options. When you have to write a song every two days, you just go ahead and develop the first idea that comes into your head.

The third is that, of the 13 songs so far written, I have three that I really, really love and another four that I think are good enough that they should be developed further. There are a couple that I am actively embarrassed about.

The fourth is that I am absolutely exhausted. The idea of getting up at 5 am tomorrow to go write music makes me ill. Part of me wants to give up at 13. Except I won't. I actually have *two* days to complete that last song.

24 Miles - 4:06

2009-02-16T10:48:00.004-05:00

I'm ramping up my long run mileage some to get ready for the HAT 50K in March. This run was a little different in that I tried out my race strategy after about the first hour of running: I ran a mile and then stopped to walk for 45 seconds. I'm glad I practiced. It had some good things about it-- I was able to sustain a 7:50 - 8:30 mile pace much further into the run. And it was pretty damn hard to start running again after walking in the later miles.

The last two miles were just garbage. I was just trying to tack two more miles onto my normal 22 mile run. It was pretty unsatisfying. I just felt like I was running in circles for the last two miles, just waiting for the mileage meter on my Forerunner 305 to click over.

That said, I was satisfied with the run overall. When I finished I thought honestly: could I now go on to run another 7.1 miles? And I think I could have. It would have been painful! But I woud be able. Cool.

22 Miles/3:22: War of the Worlds

2009-02-08T19:51:00.008-05:00

The HAT Run 50K (31.1 Miles) is coming up on 21 March 2009 and I'm signed up for it. It will be my first (and perhaps last) ultramarathon. I say it might be my last because Sònia's just made it clear that she doesn't want me to disappear for an entire day while I'm running a race. Sigh. I can still run my 22 milers on the weekends, which I love doing.

Except that the last 22 miler I ran was the one I ran right at the beginning of December, a week after the Northern Central Trail Marathon. So I was due to run another. I finally made it work-- I got out of bed at 4:30 am this morning after DVD marathoning with Sònia until almost 1 am. Yipee.

I normally do not like to run with an MP3 player. It's all part of my drive towards experiencing the moment I'm in, "when running only running" etc. But for some reason I strapped my MP3 player on my wrist and listened to stuff while I was running. Most of the run I ended up listening to Jeff Wayne's musical version of "War of the Worlds". This thing is a classic-- it came out in '82, but I only heard about it when I was in my Junior year at the Academy. I bought it on cassette tape at Harrod's in London just prior to spending a semester at Edinburgh University. It brought back memories of that time-- my first time overseas, smoking Dunhills and dating this French girl from Centrón named Gabrielle Jouet-Pastre. We spent the summer skipping class and knocking the cork into wine bottles with a ballpoint pen. It never occured to us to buy a corkscrew. Frankie Goes to Hollywood had just brought out "Welcome to the Pleasure Dome" and we had matching "FRANKIE SAY RELAX" t-shirts. I read Alasdair Grey's Lanark for the first time and found it to be pretty disturbing.

All of this was swirling through my head when my cell phone rang and Sònia told me I had to be home in an hour. I was at mile 15 now... I had to make seven miles in an hour and my legs were pretty dang beat by then. Reality hurts sometimes. So I tucked my chin in and ran as hard as I could. And I made it. It was actually pretty good, I need that ability to find some speed when my legs are really pounded. But I'm not sure where I found the speed.

Overall I felt good about getting my long run going again. I'll try and extend it a bit next week, maybe to 24 miles. I want to have a 26 miler under my belt at least before the HAT run.

FAWM: Three new songs written

2009-02-06T17:34:00.006-05:00

I've written three songs so far for February Album Writing Month (FAWM). I'm pretty happy with them and have posted them to the music player on this blog.

FAWM is pretty similar to National Novel Writing Month, in which I've participated two years running. The idea behind FAWM is to write (and ideally record) 14 songs in the month of February.

I know this is all crazy-- I try not to be so naive that I think that I'm creating an actual "album", any more than my two "novel" manuscripts are anything more than first drafts. But there really is something that simply feels nice about having a couple of songs completed, songs that no one else wrote. And it's a lot more writing than I've done recently-- before last year's FAWM, my last song was one I wrote to get Sonia to marry me (it worked) and before that my heaviest production time was when I was in Peace Corps. In 1992. In Seychelles. That's too far back.

The point of all of this is simple: like most things, the only way to get better at writing is to write. The evidence is clear. My second novel manuscript is a hell of a lot better than my first. And the songs I've written so far this year are just better than the ones I wrote last year.

Most people have trouble writing because they are so ashamed of their first attempts. They write something, then the next day they read it and realize that it's not perfect and then they hide the thing and never try to write again. I have an advantage here because I lack what my wife Sonia calls el sentido del ridículo: the sense of the ridiculous. This probably would best be translated as "I have no shame". I don't get embarrassed easily. Or rather, I do, but somehow I have the ability to swallow hard and press on. This also made learning Spanish easier. I'm pretty sure I left a sturdy swatch of laughing Spaniards in my wake when I first moved to Spain (ask me about the cone of chocolate ice cream some time, I'm amazed I ever lived that one down).

As far as the novel, I actually found someone to edit it, a West Point grad (I try not to hold that against my editor). I'll get a look at it when the editing is over and see if there is anything to be done for it.

14 years! My songwriting page

2009-01-15T19:07:00.004-05:00

I celebrated 14 years since 15-January-1995 today. Pretty good, a day like any other, really. A little chilly, really.

Who am I kidding, I was over the moon.

One thing I finally got around to doing was sprucing up my songwriting page on MySpace. I wrote a few songs last year for February Album Writing Month and posted them there. I'll be participating in the FAWM again this year, so hopefully my listing will get longer this year:

http://www.myspace.com/timothychenallen

5 minutes in the Internet Café

2009-01-03T14:16:00.002-05:00

I'm in an Internet Café in Barcelona with 5 minutes on the clock. Sònia, Daniel, and I have been having a blast. We still have over a week left. It's been rainy since the first day, but I love being here. It's hard to belive I lived here for five years... there are a lot of memories in these streets.

I went out for a seven mile run yesterday, which was great. I made it down to Pz Catalunya and Barceloneta, passed Sònia's old house, and back to Pz España. Beautiful.

I saw some old friends in Plaza España tonight as well... always good to catch up.

Christmas Morning in Barcelona - 10K

2008-12-25T04:58:00.008-05:00

I got up this morning and went out for 10K on the beach between Premiá del Mar and Masnou. It was such a beautiful run. I haven't run by the Mediterranean Sea since I left here in 2004. The sea was an indescribable blue and the sunlight coming off the sea was so brilliant that it hurt to look at it.

I say all of this to make those of you who a freezing in DC envious. It's a sick little game but it's all I have, really.

We had a wonderful Christmas Eve dinner with the whole family of my Brother in Law, Rafa, and his wife, Monstse. There were 18 people in this tiny apartment, yelling and passing stuff over each other. They were in each other's stuff, people argued and made up continuously, and it was generally a madhouse. I loved it. I miss that about Spain. Everyone was really happy to see us. In the entire evening there was only one political discussion: Rafa asked me if I was happy that Obama won. I said, yeah. That's a nice change from DC, where every discussion is about politics.

In fact, I'm having one of those visits where I'm convinced that I want to live here again, someday. I hate seeing how fast my nieces have grown up and gotten married, when it seems like the last time I saw them all of them were little girls. Of course, there are difficulties here-- the economy here stinks, as it does everywhere else. But Spain, and Barcelona in particular, was running a little close to the edge even before the global economy started going down the toilet.

Sònia and I talked about maybe moving back here when the global economy improves. So maybe Sònia and I will retire here. I can see that happening.

How to Buy Christmas Presents for a Guy

2008-12-18T11:07:00.010-05:00

This holiday season there has been a video going around called "Beware of the Doghouse". It shows the plight of some poor guy who gets his girlfriend the wrong present and ends up banished to the ranks of the insensitive males. I think I've managed to avoid this for the most part. But I can tell you that buying presents for our partners has to be one of the most stressful parts of an already very stressful holiday season.

There are a lot of guides for what to buy a man for Christmas. Conveniently, these guides are written by folks who have something to sell, mostly expensive electronic gear. I love electronic gadgets. But I don't want to get one from my wife (sorry, Sonia). I have a Computer Science degree from the Naval Academy with a specialization in Artificial Intelligence. Electronic gee-gaws are kind of my specialty. Chances are good that I know exactly which electronic gadget I want and the chances are low that my mate will pick exactly that one.

And even if she did, what would be the point of that? We don't get into relationships to see the world we have always seen. We do it so someone else will be there to point out the stuff we never would have seen. I, like most guys, have huge blind spots. The male of the species generally picks a couple of things to get into and digs a rut. My ruts are running, computers, and guitar playing. Had I, through some tragedy, never met and married Sonia, I would have spent my life geeking out on those three things.

But Sonia shows me things about the world that I never would have bothered to think about. Authors I never had heard of. Music I never would have listened to. Cheesy sit-coms I never really would have gotten into until I saw them through the eyes of an immigrant observer. And this is the point today: buy stuff that is in the guy's blind spots. The stuff he would walk past in the store, not because he didn't like it, but because it wasn't in one of his ruts. So don't just try to figure out what the guy might like and then go buy just that: he could do that. Give him the stuff that he doesn't even know he likes yet.

And if that doesn't work, get him the box set of the original Star Trek. Every guy wants that.

Jingle Bells All The Way 10K: 46:27 (The Horror!)

2008-12-14T09:55:00.008-05:00

Man, was it cold this morning. One of the women I work with, Allison, put together a roadracing team called "Disaster Blasters". So we all signed up for the Jingle Bells All The Way 10K.

Last year I ran this race in 51:45, so I'm happy that my time came down. But this race was marked by tragedy for me. You see, the race was going fine. I stretched out and really pushed the last few miles, turning in the first and fifth miles in 7:08-- not my old sub-sevens, but good.

I approached the finish line and really cranked it up. Then over the loudspeaker I heard one of the most blood-curdling, horrible, nasty things anyone has ever said about me:

"And here comes Tim Allen: One of our Masters racers."

Oh god, it's come to this. In this race I'm considered a masters racer. I half expected one of the volunteers to come bring me my cane as I crossed the finish line. I looked at all of the bright, clean-limbed youth I was finishing with and wondered if they could hear my Depends adult undergarments crinkling under my running pants. I felt about as cool as Elmer Fudd.

Sigh. I guess I'll go soak my bunions and see if I can remember my last name so I can look up my official results.

Long distance running as a meditation practice - 22 miles

2008-12-07T20:33:00.013-05:00

I woke up at 4:45 am this morning and decided to go for my normal 22 mile run. I had been debating over taking a week off because I did the marathon last week. But a funny thing has happened: I miss the long run when I can't get to it. So I went running.

This run was cool for a couple of reasons. I got to break in my new $30 Montrails I bought at Rogue Runners in Austin. And I also got to run this loop (Washington, DC: Woodley Park, down Rock Creek Parkway to the Capital Crescent Trailhead, up the Crescent to where it meets the RCP again, back down the RCP to Woodley Park and home) for the first time with my new Garmin 305 GPS unit my mom got for me. Really, running is not about gadgets. But I wanted to map out this route with the GPS partially because I was not sure that my 22 mile loop was 22 miles long. Turns out that it is almost exactly 22 miles. That was nice to have confirmed.

But there was one other thing that made this run great. I think the main reason I miss the long run when I don't do it is that it is the one time of the week when I run for a long enough time to shut off my brain and just be where I am for a few hours.

I have tried sitting meditation quite a few times. I have never gotten very comfortable with it. Part of it is the difficulty I have in just concentrating on the moment without rattling through thoughts-- however, I understand that this is part of the meditation practice. I explained to a friend of mine that if I meditated for a half an hour my mind would wander off the ranch fifty times. I would have to pull it back to my breathing fifty times in that half an hour. My friend said, "what a wonderful practice". And he was right, that practice of recapturing my sense of presence is good.

However, my real problem with sitting practice is that, as the father of a seven year old, I'm just sleep deprived all the time. I expect this situation to improve, oh, shortly before I die. So usually when I sit to meditate, about five minutes in, I'm fighting off sleep. And that's just crazy-making.

But running... I find that the regular rhythm and the proximity to natural sources of noise help me concentrate on where I am. I regularly use noise as my focal point. If I can really fixate on the sound of where I am, I know I am truly present. The reason for this for me is that so much of what goes through my head is sound-- catches of songs I've been thinking about, or bits of conversations, or a little self-criticism. My monkeys are noisy.

So I run and listen to my footsteps, and I breath and listen to my breathing, and I listen to Rock Creek.

This run started in the dark, and I ran for more than an hour before there was appreciable light. And it was cold, right at 37F. So not many people were on the trail. I saw a total of ten souls, and five of them were deer. I saw four deer just crossing Rock Creek Parkway. They're so used to people now that I don't think they get scared. They just watched me run past, then dashed off into the woods.

I did find my speed sagging a lot on this run. I found a good trick to pick up some speed-- I concentrate on my turnover. I tried to concentrate on quick turnover, and not on going fast. I did this, and after 19 miles, I was doing 9:30 miles, which is a good pace for me. I reckon if I can work on a good turnover, my stride will take care of itself and I'll be able to maintain speed.

All in all a very satisfying run.

Northern Central Trail Marathon: 4:28

2008-11-29T22:19:00.010-05:00

I got my sneezing, coughing self out of bed this morning and met my friend Etienne at 6:30 am to drive out to Sparks, MD for the Northern Central Trail Marathon.

It was a pretty kickass day all around. I've been nursing a cold/sinusy-pain/yuck thing that's been going around (I share my immune system with my son's 1st grade class), but I managed to get up and go. My mom came through with an early Xmas present of a Garmin Forerunner 305 (THANKS, MOM!) and I got to wear it for the run.

It was a really pretty day-- pretty cold when we arrived, but by the time the gun went off it was 42F. I meant to take off slow, but the crowd was going at 8:30 miles and I felt good, so I went for it and clocked 8:30's and 9:00's the first six miles. I slowed down to mostly 9:00's and 9:30's from 6 to the turnaround point at 13 miles. Then I started doing the math...

Back in 1990 I ran my first marathon, The Marine Corps, in 3:49:49. I was 26 and foolish, poorly trained and indestructible, and I made it through that race by sheer will. I swore I'd never do a marathon again. This time I was trained, wiser... and 44 years old. But I started thing, hey, if I can just click off 9:30's for the rest of the race, I can beat my PR.

So I tried doing that. And it went just fine until mile 15 when (cue ominous violin swell)... my nose started bleeding! Actually, this very minor inconvenience took on major significance to my race. I tried pinching it off, but no amount of that would work. There must be some weird physiological mechanism that makes your blood not clot when you're running really fast. So I dove into my gear pack to see if I was carrying anything I could jam in my nostril. Nada. I finally flagged down a father and son who were watching the race and asked for a napkin. Fortunately they had one. By the looks on their faces I could tell I was not a pretty sight (yes, that's blood on the picture of my race number). But I rolled up the napkin and jammed it in my nose and kept running.

I kept clicking off 9:30 miles right up until 20 miles. I felt really good, very tired, and my legs were complaining about the work by now, but I felt I could do this. And then at 21 miles, I looked at my watch and saw I had just run an 10:30 mile. It had felt just like the 9:30 mile I had run just before. I thought, wow, I'm going to have to pick it up. I really dug deep and pulled out... (tada!) a 11:30 mile! By now I was down to only 5 miles to go... no time to make it up. Long story short, I just got slower and slower until my last mile, which I ran in 15:22. Moral: sometimes experience can beat youth, but it's not really the way to bet.

Anyway, I rallied for the last half mile or so and really cranked when I got to the end. I passed one spectator on the way in the chute who said, "Hey, looking goo... oh, rough race." I actually almost started laughing. I can't wait to see the picture of me crossing the finish line. My race number was covered with blood and my nose plug was saturated in it.

I loved this race.

Overall, the race was really well run, every volunteer I met was fantastic, friendly, and for some unknown reason willing to stand around in the cold for hours to watch us. And the EMTs who checked me out at the finish line were friendly and courteous. Oh, and the soup at the end was like, the best food I ever ate anywhere. Really.

Final clock time was 4:28, I'll get my chip time when it's posted.

NaNoWriMo: The Duke of Sunrises: Excerpt

2008-11-28T16:35:00.009-05:00

All right, I've gotten some heat from a few of my friends about not posting an excerpt from The Duke of Sunrises. I don't think I should, really. I just finished the first draft at lunch today, it certainly has about a year's work necessary before I should let anyone read it. Anyway, I picked one of the story arcs from the manuscript and am putting it here. I'll warn you: parts of it are a bit rough, as in, don't read this to grandma. Don't say I didn't warn you. Oh, yeah, Rhee Myung Ran is a relatively minor character in the book. I really didn't mean for her to have such a big backstory. Oh well:

Chapter Fifteen

Rhee Myung Ran had come to the United States from Pohang , Korea , thirty-two years before. She had grown up in a small farming community near Gyeongju and had dreamed of running away to Seoul . Her mother had died when Myung Ran was twelve, and she was left to work the farm, trying to attend school as best she could. But her father had not seen much benefit in putting her through school. Myung Ran’s father sank further and further into a depression after Myung Ran’s mother died. Eventually he had begun to gamble at bars in Pohang . And he began to lose money.

Finally some men came one night when Myung Ran was fourteen years old. The men had banged on the door and called out Myung Ran’s Father’s name. Myung Ran pulled the covers over her head in the bedroom and shivered as she listened to her father pleading with the men. Finally the door to Myung Ran’s room crashed open, and a very large man known only as Mr. Kim stood in the doorway and pointed at Myung Ran. “Her! She will pay your debt, Mr. Rhee. She comes with me. Now!”

Myung Ran had seen her father behind Mr. Kim. His shirt was covered with blood and he was holding his jaw, which seemed somehow misshapen. She tried to pull the covers back over her head, to somehow hide from Mr. Kim, to hide from her father, to hide from the entire world and to pretend that this day had never happened, that the sun had never risen, that her mother had never died, that his father had never gambled.

Mr. Kim’s enormous hand pulled the covers off of her. He pulled Myung Ran out of the bed with one hand and slapped her, hard. “You work for me now. You will come with me. You will stay where I tell you to stay. You will do everything I say to do, with everyone I tell you to do it with. If you fail me in even one instant….” Mr. Kim turned and gave Myung Ran’s father a brutal backhand across the face that made him fall to his knees, weeping. “I will kill your father while you watch, and then I will kill you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes! Yes! I will come with you. Please don’t kill Daddy! Please don’t kill Daddy!”

Rhee Myung Ran sat in the living room of her home in Clarendon , Virginia , looking at her husband, Tommy, sleeping in his recliner with a Korean Bible open on his chest. She had never seen her father again. She knew that he lived somewhere near Gyeongju still. But he had never once tried to come look for her, never once had written her a letter, never once had asked about her. It was as if Myung Ran had ceased to exist for him from the day he sold her into prostitution.

Mr. Kim brought Myung Ran to a night club in Pohang called “Club New Mexico ”. There were twenty girls working in The Club New Mexico, although only a few were ever actually in the club. All of the girls were expected to work by entertaining a customer nine hours of each ten hour shift. Every customer that they entertained paid them forty U.S. Dollars. Of those forty U.S. Dollars, each girl received 700 Korean Wons: the equivalent of 50 U.S. Cents. Myung Ran’s father owed Mr. Kim over 1000 U.S. Dollars. To pay off her father’s debt, Myung Ran would have to entertain over 2000 customers.

Most of Myung Ran’s customers had been U.S. Marines. When she saw a Marine the first time, she had started to cry. They seemed so large and brutish and wore uniforms and huge boots. Surprisingly, the Marines were much gentler than her Korean customers. Many of them wanted to know Myung Ran’s name and where she was from, and why she had decided to come to Pohang . Mr. Kim had told Myung Ran to never tell the Marines how old she was—that she was twenty one if they asked. “The Marines are stupid. They do not know how old any Koreans are. You tell them you are twenty one and they are happy, I am happy, and I do not kill your father. Understood?” Myung Ran understood.

In fact, Myung Ran understood that the Marines were not really interested in her real story. They did not want to know that they were having sex with a fourteen year old girl who was paying off the gambling debts of her father under pain of her father’s death. They did not want to know that Myung Ran’s mother had died, or that she had grown up on a pig farm that smelled of pig feces constantly. They did not want to know that Myung Ran had never been off of the farm and the whore house were she worked.

The Marines wanted to know that Myung Ran had decided to come to work in Pohang because she liked living in a big city. They wanted to know that she enjoyed her life and that she spent her money improving her house and saving up to go to the University. They wanted to know that she was just doing this job until she could go to the University, where she wanted to study to be a nurse. The Marines wanted to know that Myung Ran had visited Seoul , and had gone to Japan , and that one day she wanted to visit the United States of America . They wanted to know that Myung Ran had taken this job as an entertainment girl partially to meet Americans and to learn to speak English.

And the Marines wanted to know that Myung Ran was twenty one.

Myung Ran reached over her husband Tommy’s recliner and gently removed the Bible from his hands. He was snoring softly. She then removed his reading glasses, which were leaving two light red marks on either side of his nose. Myung Ran looked at Tommy. She knew he was not a perfect man. But she loved him and respected him. Tommy had done something that very few Korean men would ever do. Tommy Song had loved her in spite of his suspicions about her past. Tommy Song had respected Myung Ran when Myung Ran had had no respect for herself. Tommy Song had accepted Myung Ran’s stories about being widowed in the United States and had not asked too many questions. Because Myung Ran could only tell so many stories before she stopped believing them herself.

When Myung Ran had turned 17, she only owed Mr. Kim Two Hundred and Fifty U.S. Dollars. She had calculated that if she had three successful U.S. Marine Exercises in the Club New Mexico, she would be able to pay off her father’s debt. And one day, she decided to go to Mr. Kim’s office and tell Mr. Kim that she was preparing to finish paying him.

Mr. Kim did not get angry. He simply opened his filing cabinet, pulled out a large, green U.S. Government ledger, and showed Myung Ran a page with many numbers on it. The numbers were in bright red ink. And they showed that Myung Ran had earned a lot of money for Mr. Kim. A very large amount of money.

But they also showed that Myung Ran had had expenses. Her clothing had been the first expense. The clothing she had worn as a farmer girl would not have been good for entertaining guests. So Mr. Kim had bought clothing for Myung Ran. And he had kept it clean by having a laundry service that he had kindly given to Myung Ran. This too was quite expensive. Also, Mr. Kim had had the option of letting Myung Ran sleep in the street. He had heard that the girls of the Flower Waggon Club had to sleep on the streets, and bad things sometimes happened to those girls. Mr. Kim told Myung Ran that she was very lucky not to work in the Flower Waggon Club, very lucky indeed.

And of course Mr. Kim had paid for Myung Ran’s heat. Her food. Her drinks. Cleaning and electricity were not cheap either. Indeed, Mr. Kim had graciously supplied Myung Ran with the many comforts of life that Myung Ran now enjoyed.

Myung Ran tried to appear cheerful and tried not to let her voice tremble when she asked Mr. Kim how much money she still owed of her father’s gambling debt. Mr. Kim put on his reading glasses then looked at the figure in the ledger, wrote a few more numbers, then pulled out an abacus and did several calculations. He took off his reading glasses and put them on top of the ledger. Then he held his hands in front of his face, his elbows on the desk and his fingertips touching, and told Myung Ran that she now owed him One Thousand Five Hundred U.S. Dollars.

Myung Ran had looked down at the ledger and the reading glasses on top of it. She wanted to grab the ledger and run away. She wanted to take Mr. Kim’s reading glasses and smash them. But she knew that it was pointless. She would be a whore for the rest of her life if she did that. So Myung Ran decided that she would do what many of the Korean Entertainment Girls ended up doing. As she looked down at Mr. Kim’s reading glasses, Myung Ran decided she would make a U.S. Marine fall in love with her. The Marine would pay off Myung Ran’s father’s gambling debt. And Myung Ran would marry the U.S. Marine and move to the United States of America . And after some time, after she had become a U.S. Citizen, Myung Ran would divorce the U.S. Marine. And she would visit Pohang , Korea one more time. And then she would kill Mr. Kim.

Myung Ran reached over and pulled a Kleenex out of the box on the glass end table next to Tommy Song’s end table, and cleaned Tommy’s reading glasses. She put them down on top of the Bible she had laid on the end table.

Chapter Eighteen

Tommy Song walked around the Mercedes Benz in his driveway and checked the pressure of the tires. He checked to ensure that there were no leaves stuck in the grill and that the windshield was very clean. Then he opened the door to their house in Clarendon , Virginia , called to his wife, Myung Ran, and asked if she would please come to the car. He locked the door to the house with a key and then held open the door of the Mercedes Benz so she could enter the car.

Tommy Song looked at Myung Ran as he closed the door and tried to calculate how long they had known each other. Tommy had come to the United States in 1970. He was a young man and he had opened a dry cleaning shop. At that time, there were not as many things a Korean immigrant could do in the United States . Being a dry cleaner was one of those things. He had worked hard to become a successful dry cleaner.

Tommy Song had also become very active in the Arlington Korean Baptist Church . He had dedicated himself to his dry cleaning business and the Arlington Korean Baptist Church . In turn, everyone in the church took their dry cleaning to his shop, and they had told everyone they knew about Tommy Song’s dry cleaning business. This was not bad practice. It simply was the way things were done. Tommy worked hard. He employed several members of the church as employees, and that made the community stronger. Tommy Song was proud of what he had done with his business.

But several of the members of the church had become concerned about Tommy Song. He worked many hours, often entering the dry cleaning business before the sun came up and staying until late into the night. He did not seem to have a life away from his business. It was not good for a man like Tommy Song to work so hard and not have a family to help him at home. Tommy’s mother and father were still in Korea , so his mother could not easily find an appropriate wife for Tommy. The people of the church decided to find Tommy Song a wife.

But it was not as easy as finding eligible single women in the church. Most of the church ladies were married. And most of the daughters of the church were too young for marriage, even to a relatively young man like Tommy Song. There were a few young women of Tommy’s age in the church who were not married, but they were promised to others. Tommy needed a wife when there were none to be had. So the congregation prayed for a wife for Tommy Song. They did not do this in church- that would be embarrassing for Tommy. They never told Tommy. But every lady in the Arlington Korean Baptist Church prayed every morning and every evening: “Lord Jesus, please send us a wife for Mr. Tommy Song.”

Tommy never would have known about the ladies’ prayers. But one day, Mrs. Tong ran up to Tommy Song after the services, very excited. She said to Tommy, “Our prayers have been answered!”

Tommy said to Mrs. Tong, “What prayer would that be, Mrs. Tong?”

“Tommy, we have been praying for a wife for you!”

Tommy was curious, but then felt deep shame inside. How could they have been praying for a wife for him? Could he not find his own wife? Why were these people getting into his business? Still, he told her, “Thank you, Mrs. Tong. It is very nice of you to pray this way.”

“We would like for you to meet this young woman. But I must warn you of one thing. She is a widow .”

A widow? Tommy was not sure what that meant to him. She had been married. And some people thought that the bible told them that a person could only ever be married once. On the other hand, perhaps that was not true. For example, if a woman got married to a man, and that very day the man was killed in a horrible auto accident, surely Jesus would not have wanted that woman to go through the rest of her life all alone. That did not sound right, either. Tommy remained silent. But he nodded his head, slightly.

“Good,” said Mrs. Tong. “Good, I will arrange a meeting. You will meet Miss Rhee this evening at my restaurant. This is acceptable to you?”

Tommy Song did not see any way out of this. “Yes, Mrs. Tong. Thank you, Mrs. Tong. Until this evening.”

Tommy Song had put on a nice jacket and bought some flowers from Mrs. Park’s shop. He walked into Mrs. Tong’s restaurant a few minutes before 6:30. Mrs. Tong was waiting for him. She shook Tommy Song’s hand, then looked him over. “Yes, you look nice. Be polite with the young woman, please.”

“Yes, Mrs. Tong.” Then he sat at the table that Mrs. Tong had assigned for them, not far from the middle of the restaurant, where Mrs. Tong could keep an eye on them, but also off to one side where they could talk.

Every time the bell attached to the door chimed, Tommy shifted in his seat nervously to see who was coming in. An older couple. A family with a young boy and a baby in a stroller. Another single man who went straight to the bar. Finally, the door opened and a young woman in a black dress came in.

Mrs. Tong walked straight to the door to accompany the young woman to Tommy’s table. As Mrs. Tong and the young woman got closer, Tommy stood up respectfully and pulled out the young woman’s chair. Mrs. Tong smiled broadly and said to him, “Tommy Song, please meet the Widow Rhee Myung Ran.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Tong. I am pleased to meet you, Widow Rhee.”

“I too, am pleased, Mr. Song.” Tommy pushed Rhee Myung Ran’s chair in and nodded to Mrs. Tong. Then he too sat down.

Tommy Song looked down at his menu. His heat was racing. He had not had dinner with a young woman since he had come to the United States . He could not bring himself to look directly at Rhee Myung Ran. He tried to concentrate on the menu, but could not read anything so he decided to simply order a Bibimbap.

“Widow Rhee, have you decided on anything to eat?” Tommy looked across the table and glanced towards the Widow Rhee. Then he saw her eyes. They were curiously dark and large, beautiful. He wanted to look further and further into those eyes. Then he realized that he was staring at the Widow Rhee. He felt very ashamed and looked down at the table.

But not before he realized that Rhee Myung Ran was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Tommy Song was at the wheel of the Mercedes, driving along Clarendon Boulevard . Myung Ran was at his side, sitting quietly. Although Tommy Song and Rhee Myung Ran were not normally very demonstrative, Tommy reached over and held Myung Ran’s hand as he drove.

After dinner at Mrs. Tong’s restaurant, Tommy Song had walked Rhee Myung Ran back to the hotel where she was staying. Rhee Myung Ran had not found a place to live since her husband’s death.

“Widow Rhee, have you been living in the hotel for a very long time?” Tommy wanted to know how long it had been since Rhee Myung Ran’s husband had died, but he could not ask her this directly. He had made no reference to Rhee Myung Ran’s defunct husband in the entire evening, except to tell her that he regretted her loss. Although he did not truly regret her loss. He was deeply ashamed when he had that thought.

“I have lived here for a year and a half now.” Good, thought Tommy Song. It is more than a year. He was not sure how much time one must wait to be respectful to the dead, but he was sure that it was more than a year.

“And why did you decide to come to the United States of America ?” Again, he wanted to know more about the previous marriage, but could not ask directly.

“My late husband was from the United States . He had been a U.S. Marine. We came back here because he was stationed here at the Pentagon. But then he was sent to Viet Nam , and he… he did not come back.”

“I am truly sorry for your loss, Widow Rhee.” Tommy Song was in turmoil inside. Rhee Myung Ran had been married to a U.S. Marine. Surely this changed things drastically for him. There were rumors about the Marines marrying Korean girls. He wondered what kind of girl Rhee Myung Ran was. Then he looked over at her. She was the most innocent, the most peaceful looking person he had ever met. And he realized that perhaps it did not matter what kind of girl Rhee Myung Ran had been in Korea . Perhaps the prayers of Tommy Song’s church had been answered with Rhee Myung Ran and he was not to ask too many questions about where she had come from.

Tommy Song and Rhee Myung Ran were now in front of the hotel where the Widow Rhee lived. “I have had a very lovely evening, Widow Rhee.” It was entirely true.

“I also have had a wonderful evening, Mr. Song.” Tommy bowed to the Widow Rhee, then opened the door for her. As she went past, The Widow Rhee’s shoulder brushed against Tommy Song’s hand. He felt as though his hand had caught fire.

Tommy Song’s Mercedes was passing over the Key Bridge into Georgetown . There was some traffic, but Tommy had planned ahead and had left enough time for this eventuality. They would arrive with plenty of time to spare. Rhee Myung Ran was sitting quietly. Tommy gave her hand a little squeeze.

The wedding of Tommy Song and Rhee Myung Ran had been very small. They had decided to get married in the Arlington Korean Baptist Church . The day before the wedding, Tommy Song and Rhee Myung Ran had gone to the Arlington Courthouse with all of their papers to get a marriage license. There was some confusion at the courthouse, as Tommy told the clerk that Rhee Myung Ran was a widow. The clerk had asked for a death certificate for Rhee Myung Ran’s husband. Instead, Rhee Myung Ran presented the clerk with a divorce certificate. Tommy did not ask Rhee Myung Ran why she had a divorce certificate while they were still in the courthouse. He decided that he had better not say anything until later.

When Tommy Song and Rhee Myung Ran walked out of the courthouse, Myung Ran began to cry. Tommy Song was not sure what to do. So he took Rhee Myung Ran in his arms and he held her. It was the first time he had held her since they had met. And Tommy Song whispered something to Rhee Myung Ran: “It is all right. I don’t care. The clerk made a mistake, that is all. We will be married tomorrow. Please, I would like it very much if you would smile.”

Myung Ran had raised her head and looked Tommy Song in the eyes. And a small smile crept onto her lips.

The next day Tommy Song and Rhee Myung Ran were married in the Arlington Korean Baptist Church . And Tommy never asked Myung Ran about her first husband or the divorce certificate ever again.

Chapter Forty-One

Tong Jin Sook, the owner of the Ichiban restaurant in Clarendon, had come from Korea to Arlington , Virginia in 1956 at the age of twelve. There were very few Koreans in Virginia at that point. When Jin Sook arrived, there was no Korean community. There was no Korean church. She did not meet Koreans other than her family members for several years.

Her father had started the Ichiban restaurant shortly after arriving, and the whole family worked long hours to make the restaurant work. They worked seven days a week, only taking time off to go to church on Sunday. The Arlington Korean Baptist Church had not been built at that point, so the family went to an English speaking church where they were tolerated, but not exactly welcomed. Tong Jin Sook learned to speak English by going to that church. And she learned to smile and make people think that she was enjoying herself when she was not. She did so by serving those same people as a waitress and cashier in the Ichiban restaurant.

When other Koreans came to Arlington , they naturally gravitated to the Ichiban restaurant. Some took jobs there, and others started businesses with the help of Tong Jin Sook’s father. Jin Sook’s father became an important man in the Korean community of Arlington . One of the first things that he and the other Korean men decided was that they needed a church where they could practice their religion in their own language. It took time to collect the money, but a year after that decision was made, the Arlington Korean Baptist Church was under construction.

Tong Jin Sook grew up in the Arlington Korean Baptist Church . She got married in the church when she was still quite young, and her children had gone to Sunday school there before they went on to also be married in the church.

When Tong Jin Sook’s father grew older and too tired to take care of the Ichiban restaurant, he told Jin Sook that she would be taking over the restaurant. It was not a big change in her work. She already was doing the ordering and the books. But once Tong Jin Sook’s father died in 1970, Jin Sook realized that the rest of the Korean community looked to her as a leader, as a matriarch.

Tong Jin Sook never took credit for the new Clarendon Korean School that was built shortly thereafter. Nor did she tell anyone that if they came to her when they had problems with their residency papers, she had contacts that could solve those problems. But little by little, Koreans in all of Northern Virginia spread the word that Tong Jin Sook was the lady to go to if you needed a problem solved.

That is why, one March afternoon after church services at the Arlington Korean Baptist Church , Mrs. Rhee Myung Ran visited Mrs. Tong Jin Sook. Myung Ran had a problem that she needed to have solved.

The problem would have been difficult for Rhee Myung Ran to resolve on her own, although she had promised herself many, many years before that she would take care of this problem herself. She would have had to return to her native Pohang , Korea to solve it herself, and recently it had become difficult for her to travel. But she had saved up money from her husband’s Dry Cleaning business, and she was willing to pay handsomely to have someone take care of her problem for her.

So Mrs. Rhee Myung Ran visited Mrs. Tong Jin Sook and they had a pleasant afternoon reminiscing about their childhood days in Korea , lamenting the fact that it was probable that neither of them would ever visit Korea again, but agreeing that the community they had built here in Virginia was strong and wonderful.

When Rhee Myung Ran left Tong Jin Sook’s house, she discreetly handed Tong Jin Sook an envelope containing Twenty Five Thousand U.S. Dollars and an approximate address for a Mr. Kim Bong Chol of Pohang, Korea. Some problems are expensive to solve, but worth every penny of the expense.

Chapter Forty-Two

Park Daeshin had fought against the North Koreans as an infantry soldier. He had watched every other man in his platoon get killed in the defense of Muchuk. Some of the soldiers who had died were as young as twelve years old. In the residence home the other residents called him “Colonel”, although he had never reached a rank higher than Corporal.

Colonel Daeshin was old. He could feel every one of his eighty years in his bones. He had worked very hard his entire life, finally retiring a few years before from more than forty years working in the steel plant in Pohang , Korea . Colonel Daeshin had had the forethought to put some money aside so that he could live in a nice residence home when he got old, so his children would not be burdened. He would not have liked to be a burden. Unfortunately, Colonel Daeshin’s wife had died more than ten years before. He had a picture of her in the breast pocket of his shirt.

As a single man in the residence home, he shared a living quarters with another man. Colonel Daeshin did not care for his roommate, a Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim had a reputation for being a retired crime boss in Pohang . Colonel Daeshin thought this to be dishonorable. Also, Mr. Kim was loud and disorderly, and Colonel Daeshin enjoyed order and quiet.

One of the dishonorable things that Mr. Kim would do would be to stay out well past curfew playing at the Bingo parlors. Mr. Kim would invariably come home at two in the morning and wake up Colonel Daeshin with his loud, drunken voice. Mr. Kim had gone out to play Bingo the night before. When Colonel Daeshin woke up that morning, he was surprised to see that Mr. Kim had not come home.

Colonel Daeshin shaved carefully, then got dressed and entered the common room, where all of the residents were gathered around a television. The other residents were pointing at the television screen in horror, and some of the residents were crying. Colonel Daeshin did not like to watch the television, but he was curious to find out what had provoked such horror in the other residents.

There on the television news was a report of an apparent execution style murder. The images were gruesome—an older man had been kidnapped, then brutally tortured for several hours. Finally, the man’s tormentors had hung him alive from a cross in the middle of a field on a pig farm and slowly burned him to death with a blowtorch. The body had been so badly disfigured that there was no way to identify the victim other than with dental records. But the dental records had finally shown that the victim was the reputed retired leader of the Kkangpae organized crime syndicate, Kim Bong Chol.

When the report was finished, Colonel Daeshin returned to his quarters, closed the door behind him, and smiled with satisfaction.

NaNoWriMo: 50,047 words: The Duke of Sunrises

2008-11-28T14:30:00.009-05:00

I WON!

Yipee! I had thought I was going to finish off The Duke of Sunrises sometime this weekend. But I began to think about the weekend and realized: I'm running the Northern Central Trail Marathon tomorrow. And Sunday I'll probably be recovering. So I made an effort to pull it together before I came to work today. And then over my lunch hour I made a real push and watched the ticker finally click over 50,000 words.

As I had thought, my protagonist ended up being named Sam Small in honor of a character my father invented for his art classes.

Oddly enough, it's a pretty damn good story. Of course, I'm not so naive as to think it's ready for anyone to read at this point. It probably needs about a year's worth of editing, during which time I'd probably write about another 30,000 words to make it work. There are plenty of places where I've written in "I have to make Sara's back story more believable" or "write the trip across town". What I have is a rough first draft of a manuscript. But it's a damn good rough first draft of a manuscript.

Anyway, I'm glad not to be going into tomorrow's marathon with this hanging over my head! Wish me luck on the run!

NaNoWriMo Day 26: 44,909 Words (Finally caught up!)

2008-11-26T16:41:00.003-05:00

I finally caught up with my National Novel Writing Month word count. I'm actually about one day ahead of where I have to be, which is good, because I certainly won't be writing on Saturday when I run the Northern Central Trail Marathon.

I got a big boost today when I talked with a friend who I asked to read part of the manuscript. She asked me to please, please, please kill off a particular one of my characters. I thought I had finished with killing my people, but this guy desperately needed to be liquidated.

So thanks to my friend I only have about 5,000 words to go. I guess I was wrong; violence does solve some problems (at least in this blood sport that is sport noveling).

NaNoWriMo Day 23: 35,078 words

2008-11-23T20:08:00.005-05:00

Okay, I'm definitely on track now. I am really confident that I can hit my 50K word goal by then end of the month. There are a few days I won't be able to write; for example, next Saturday I'm running the Northern Central Trail Marathon . Chances are good I won't write then.

I'm thinking of trying to just go ahead and finish up in the next couple of days. I've figured out that it is not really a huge big deal for me to write three or four thousand words in a day. And I would hate to get to the last day and simply not have the strength to get through the last 5000 words.

But I'm in a little bit of a quandary. I think the one best way that I can squeak another 15,000 words out of this story is to kill one of my favorite characters. The story is certainly heading that way. Death just generates a hell of a lot of drama: I had my protagonist's best friend die last year and it totally got me through the last half of the book. But I like this character. Ah well, that's the blood sport that is sport novelling. Looks like Josie's gonna have to take one for the team.

NaNoWriMo Day 22: 32,750 words

2008-11-22T16:36:00.006-05:00

Okay, this is more like it.

I'm only about 3,924 words behind. I got lucky. Sònia and Daniel had a bowling party to go to, and I got a nice three hour stretch to write in. So I'm almost entirely caught up. I'm feeling confident that I'm going to finish off my 50,000 work 1st draft of The Duke of Sunrises by the end of November for National Novel Writing Month.

The story is coming together nicely. Some parts of it are garbage (whaddya expect, I'm writing the whole thing in a month). But much of the manuscript up until now is surprisingly good. I have left off on any idea of trying to publish this year's work. But I'm getting a lot of benefit out of just putting the manuscript together. I think I've subconsciously been kicking around a lot of ideas that are finally making their way onto paper (well, screen).

The other thing that occurred to me is that my characters have become very real to me. I have no question about what a scene looks like when I'm setting it up. The trick is putting it on paper in such a way that another person would get it. I'm not actually sure anyone else will ever see this manuscript (no one has ever read last year's either). But I was surprised about how attached I've become to these people I've invented. This year I really have invented my characters-- last year was more about folks that I knew, who I threw into the story to act. But this year I needed some characters who fit the story a little better.

I guess all of this is a long way of saying that practice makes perfect. I think I'm actually getting better at the craft of writing. I have my doubts about ever doing this for the money. But I know for sure that I'll never get any better at writing without practice. This month I got a lot of practice.

NaNoWriMo Day 19: 20,031 words

2008-11-19T01:54:00.004-05:00

I'm finally getting caught up on my National Novel Writing Month manuscript, which I am tentatively calling The Duke of Sunrises. I have finally hit 20,000 words. This puts me about 11,000 words behind where I should be. But I am feeling a lot more confident that I am going to make this work this year.

I realize the name probably sounds like something that has knights and dragons in it, but the story really is about a guy in DC who is facing the prospect of getting married, having a kid, and finally growing up. It's not at all autobiographical, unless you count me filling it virtually completely with my life experiences as autobiographical. Oh, the protagonist's name is not Tim this time. I'm considering calling him Sam Small in honor of my father. Sam Small was Dad's example student when he taught art in Silsbee.

Thank god for insomnia. I wouldn't finish anythng if I was a regular sleeper.

Signed up from the HAT Run 50K

2008-11-18T19:00:00.001-05:00

I signed up for my first ultramarathon today; the HAT Run 50K. It'll be at 9 AM, Saturday March 21, 2009 in Susquehanna State Park, Maryland. I'm pretty psyched!

NaNoWriMo Day 18: 15,369 words

2008-11-18T00:15:00.006-05:00

Man, I rocked and rolled today on this. My deployment to Austin really knocked a hole in my time to write, and I have been seriously worried about how I was going to make National Novel Writing Month work this year. The thing is, I hate ever being a DNF (Did Not Finish). So I sacrificed a little sleep (well, a lot of sleep) and put in over 6,500 words-- about five days worth of writing today. I wrote before work, during my lunch hour, and a really long time after Sonia and Daniel went to bed.

I have to say that I'm pleased. I had story elements come out of nowhere. Two more of my minor supporting characters turned out to have really interesting back stories that I ended up explaining (even though I invented these characters, I'm finding out more about them all the time).

Well, I'm about to fall asleep sitting up, so I'm headed for bed.

Leaving Texas

2008-11-13T18:39:00.002-05:00

It looks like my time here in Beaumont is coming to a close. Unexpectedly I am being pulled back to DC. I'm really happy to be heading home to Sonia and Daniel, but I'm a little sad about leaving my home town so soon. I feel like I wasn't here long enough. I got to hang out with my cousin Becky and my friend Ginger, and I'll have dinner with my brother Pancho tonight. But I didn't get a chance to see my buddy Troy (In case you're googling Troy Soileau, all of the rumors about the chickens are damned lies). And I still haven't gotten to Lumberton at all. I'll have to see if I can pull through there before I go.

Beaumont, Texas - A little run in the Big City

2008-11-12T10:20:00.002-05:00

I'm on a project with FEMA here in Beaumont, Texas. This was the "big city" when I was living in Lumberton as a kid. I forgot how much I like this place.

I'm staying at my cousin Becky's house, which isn't far from downtown Beaumont. I went out with my new $30 Montrails! and my twitchy calf and went for a short run this morning. Tha calf held up-- it's a little stiff now, so now I'm worried about what's going to happen on 20 November 2008 when I run in the Northern Central Trail Marathon. I might have to lay off for another week to see if it comes around.

Miniscule tiny short run/New Shoes/Beaumont!

2008-11-10T20:22:00.005-05:00

I ran here in Austin two days ago in the Walnut Creek Park. It was a really pretty run, but my left calf started acting up just before I stopped (well, about three miles before I stopped). When I got up yesterday, I had planned to go out for a long run-- I had a route mapped out for 22 miles. My calf just said nooooo. So I took the day off.

But I did have a stroke of good luck yesterday afternoon. I had gone to Rogue Running, aterrific running gear store here in Austin, in search of a long sleeve shirt to run in. It is colder here than I expected! I didn't find a shirt, but in the SALE pile, I found a pair of Montrail Vitesses for $30. It was like finding the trail running holy grail. I was checking them for nails inside and stuff-- I just couldn't believe it. Of course I bought them, feeling very smug about wearing my $30 Montrails!.

I went out for a run this morning-- I meant to go for an hour and a half. But as soon as I stepped out the door in my new $30 Montrails!, I realized there was a problem. My left big toe was banging right up against the end of the shoe. Darn, I thought (hey, this site is PG). So I cut the run short right at 30 minutes.

At lunchtime I was able to take the shoes back to Rogue Running. They took them back and gave me another pair of $30 Montrails! in exchange for free! Fantastic! Incredible! No Sh*t! So I left feeling doubly smug and very happy about life in general. So if you're ever in Austin, go buy shoes or something at Rogue Running Gear.

When I got back to the FEMA shop, it turned out that the folks at the FEMA shop in Beaumont had requested someone to come do what I do. So I'm going to go there early tomorrow morning and go do what I do there. It will be cool, with any luck I'll be able to swing through Lumberton and see my buddy Troy and see my cousin Becky and brother Pancho in Beaumont.

NaNoWriMo Day 10: Behind, but catching up

2008-11-10T01:08:00.007-05:00

We are ten days into NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). To make 50,000 words by the end of the month, I should have written 16,670 words. I woke up this morning with 900 words... but I also had three pretty good characters and an idea.

I got up early this morning and put in a couple of hours writing, and this evening I put in some more. I've decided to structure my novel somewhat on the same lines as George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones and write each chapter from a differing character's viewpoint. I like this because it avoids making the story too neatly lopsided to one character.

The storyline has gotten out of my hands and is firmly in my characters' wills now. I was determined to make two of my characters hate each other but they seem to have fallen in love. One of my incidental characters (a waiter) just pushed his way into a major supporting role. And two of my characters just jumped in the sack together.

Anyway, my word count is at 5,561 now, so I did about three day's writing today. And I'm pleased and proud and for the first time this month I think I can actually do this. At this point, I must. I actually am anxious to see how the story turns out.

Austin Trail Running

2008-11-08T10:07:00.005-05:00

I'm still in Austin working on Hurricane Ike for FEMA. I'm staying at a hotel right across from Austin's Walnut Creek Park. I finally managed to get out for a run this morning in the park. We've been working 14 hour days since I got here, and I'm just now getting adjusted to that.

On the map the park doesn't look like much. On the ground, though, it has some really terrific trails. The trails are for real, too-- they aren't glorified sidewalks. I was having to slow down a lot to get down some of the bigger downhills without falling face first. I really enjoyed the run.

I got kind of lost out there and was having a hard time finding civilization-- a perfect thing to have happen on a trail run. But I needed to get back to go to work (we're working 7 days a week now). I finally broke out and headed toward the highway. I ran along and saw several things on the side of the road: a second hand tire shop ("Llantas Usadas Fiables")... then I saw a spent shotgun shell... and finally a flattened armadillo road kill.

I love Texas.

Gone To Texas

2008-11-05T05:34:00.001-05:00

FEMA is sending me to Austin for a couple of weeks to work on the recovery effort for Hurricane Ike. I ended up leaving earlier than I thought-- my 6am flight had me out of bed at 3:30. We stayed up and watched the returns last night-- looks like I have a new boss-- so I got about two hours of sleep.

I feel surprisingly fresh.

I'm not happy about leaving Sonia and Daniel for two weeks. But this is part of the job with FEMA, and if this somehow relieves the suffering of someone, I feel good about it. I'll actually have a little more time to build up my nanowrimo word count and to train for the marathon on the 28th-- I'm expecting 12 hour days, but the other 12 will be fairly obligation free (guess I have to sleep sometime, though!)

Stop what you're doing and go participate in history

2008-11-04T08:49:00.000-05:00

Today is election day. If you don't know that, you probably aren't registered and may as well go back to sleep. Pleasant dreams.

For the rest of you, there is a great Google Map that will show you exactly where your polling place is, take you to the web site of your local board of elections, etc.

I got up at 5:00 am this morning and got to the polls at 5:30. I was the first person at the polls, but within 15 minutes there was a line of 20, and when the polls opened at 7:00 am there were hundreds of people in line. It made me damn proud to see how many people wanted to vote.

When I was in Seychelles as a Peace Corps volunteer, they had the first democratic elections after 17 years. People went wild. It was near 100% voter turnout, and might have ended up being more that 100% as many tried to scrub the ink off their thumbs and go back.

So who did I vote for? If you've followed this blog for a while, you'll notice that I don't blog on politics any more. Read this for further details. In any case, I voted for who I thought was best. Go do that, too, whoever you believe that may be.

22 Miles - 17 minutes faster!

2008-11-02T12:27:00.001-05:00

I'm continuing with my crazy-assed plan of running 22 miles every Sunday for a while to see what will happen (any guesses as to what will happen? It starts with "I" and ends with "njury"). I got up at 4:45 am so I could get my run done before Daniel and Sònia where up and around. Hmmm, one of the signs of addiction is hiding the behavior-- maybe I'll start hiding my long runs in toilet tanks and behind books in the bookshelf...

Anyway, Daylight Savings Time is over so I kind of got up at 5:45 am my time, so it wasn't as horrible. If you're finding that you're not on time for anything today, you might need to adjust your watch!

The trail was silent, no one on it at first. Last week I was dodging bikers and other runners the whole way, today I was alone for long stretches. I found it very easy to stay concentrated on my environment, being in the moment. I found that this got progressively harder to maintain as I got more tired. But I was pleased with how easily I got it back. At the very beginning of the Capital Crescent Trail I saw an animal moving around by the trail ahead in the darkness. I tried to figure out what it was and was pretty much right on top of it when I realized it was a young deer. The deer just looked at me. I just did my "Hi Deer, you stay over there and I'll stay over here and this is going to turn out just fine" bit. It never really moved away.

I was cooking today. Last week I finished this route in 3:31 and today I finished in just 3:13-- 17 minutes faster! Part of this is that I know the trail better and missed one false turn (though I still made a different wrong turn). Part of it is that I know I can do this distance and I was confident that I could press the pedal a little more. But I have to think that part of the improvement was simply that I have improved: I'm actually a little faster. Fast enough that I was running 8:59 miles the whole 22 miles. A few months back I could only sustain 10:00 miles for about 12 miles. I am feeling smug.

Route: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2359605

As far as National Novel Writing Month, I squeaked out 366 words yesterday-- not 1,667. Sigh. Being a dad cuts into this kind of thing. But I have a story! It's gonna have it all-- runnin' and meditatin' and goin' to them meetins' (I've been watching that palurda Palin and now my "g's" don't work) And I've made a decision-- I'm going to have to give up my reading club coordination duties for the month. Basically that will make the time necessary to get this thing finished off. I had a blast doing this last year, and I am looking forward to getting my word count going this afternoon when I get a little time alone-- as long as I don't fall asleep from my run as soon as I'm by myself.

National Novel Writing Month starts today - Killer leg cramp

2008-11-01T11:08:00.000-04:00

I got up this morning knowing that something was happening-- daylight savings time? nope, that's tomorrow. Payday? yep, but that's not really as special as it should be. Then it hit me-- the first day of November-- National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) has started! Arg!

I haven't thought about a story-- on the other hand, that's not necessary or even desireable. But what I am freaking out about is the time commitments I'm on: I'm a member of two book clubs who meet this month, and reading time competes with writing time. I'm training for the Northern Central Trail Marathon on the 29th, and running time competes with writing time. And I'm a FEMA Branch Chief and working time definitely competes with writing time.

What the hell, I'm still going to do it. Just have to write 1,667 words today. That's easy.

Last night I woke up with a huge cramp in my left calf muscle. I felt like someone was ripping my calf muscle off. It's my own damn fault. I went into the gym yesterday and lifted like crazy. I changed my routine to emphasize endurance more, so I'm doing 3 sets of 20 reps of everything. That last set is pretty awful. Hopefully this will get a little easier over the next few weeks.

Signed up for the Northern Central Trail Marathon!

2008-10-30T11:54:00.000-04:00

I just took the plunge and signed up for the Northern Central Trail Marathon. It's a 26.2 mile trail marathon (duh) that runs on 29 November 2008, the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

I've been wanting to do a longer trail race, either a half or a full marathon, in anticipation of going longer. If this goes well, my next long race would be the HAT run 50K 21 March 2009.

But that's thinking pretty far ahead. Right now I'm thinking about the immensity of just having signed up for a marathon for the coming month. I mean, I am pretty sure I'm in good enough shape to do this (my long run is 22 miles now), but I feel like there should have been more... ceremony about this. Like I would have decided a year ago that I was going to do this marathon. On the other hand, my real goal is to be in good enough shape that I could run a marathon with little or no preparation.

One of the things I liked on the race webpage was the warning that bow hunting season will be in full swing when the run starts up, so we should wear bright colors. Yowzah!

Anyway, I'll probably be getting sized for crutches pretty soon at this rate...

Give Dean Karnazes his due - 13 miles

2008-10-28T13:02:00.000-04:00

Sònia was teaching tonight so I had a couple extra hours after work. I ran from FEMA Headquarters to our house in Woodley Park via the Capital Crescent Trail and Mass Ave, right at 13 miles (http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2363742). Hmm, I'm going to have to start mixing up my routes just so I'll have different stuff to blog about.

I felt really strong, which is weird considering that I ran 22 miles just day before yesterday. I guess this is becoming a less and less big deal with so much interest in Ultras. I have to say, the existence of ultras has kind of cracked my mind open on the idea of how far I could possibly run. When I finished the Marine Corps Marathon in 1990, I swore I'd never do another Marathon. I had one friend, Fuzzy, who ran ultras, and we all thought he was insane.

This month's TrailRunner magazine has an article about the ultra boom and how it is changing ultras. Oddly enough (or perhaps typically), the article does not mention Dean Karnazes. That pisses me off. I realize that Dean is controversial, as he is in the press a lot, self-promotes, etc. But the fact is that I never would have considered training for an ultra if I had not read his book, Ultramarathon Man. I am pretty sure that of the zillions of folks training for ultras now a good proportion got interested in the same way. Arguably the readership of TrailRunner magazine has expanded a lot because of the interest in the sport that he raised. But there exists some sort of taboo about mentioning Karnazes as a serious athlete in the ultra press. I read a blog in which the author was gleeful because Dean didn't break a record he had set out to break. That's messed up.

National Novel Writing Month starts in five days!

2008-10-27T17:30:00.000-04:00

Last year I participated in (and won!) National Novel Writing Month for the first time. I wrote a 50,000 word manuscript called Awake-- a coming of age story set at the Naval Academy. It wasn't about me (okay, yeah it was).

So in four days I'm going to start writing my second manuscript. I don't know what the book will be about. I don't know where I will set it. I do know that I can't write another coming-of-age-at-Canoe-U book (nor would I want to). It might be about running....

The fact is that I won't know what I'm writing about until I sit down to write it. That's how I did it last year-- in fact, I had a pretty good idea of what I was going to write about and it changed as I started writing.

You may be wondering if you could do this. You can. You are not too busy to write the page and a half a day required to complete 50,000 words in one month. Believe me: I'm a father, I'm a runner, I go to those meetings a lot... I'm a busy guy. But like they say, if you're already doing a million things, the million and first won't make that much of a difference. So I encourage you to join me on the sordid corpse-strewn highway that is novelling. Go to http://www.nanowrimo.org to get started.

22 Miles - Help me hear your work

2008-10-26T13:37:00.000-04:00

I decided to try and incorporate a really long run on Sundays. So this morning I rolled out of bed at 5 am and finally hit trail at 5:30. It was really dark out when I took off down Rock Creek Parkway from Woodley Park. When I got to Water Street in Georgetown I ran into a bunch of Marines who were preparing the route for the Marine Corps Marathon. I greeted them loudly and then promptly hit an uneven patch of pavement and went down hard. I could feel I had banged my left knee a bit but didn't think it was too bad. It turns out I was wrong, I took a pretty good patch of skin off of my knee.

I hit the trailhead for the Capital Crescent Trail and ran all the way to Mass Ave before the sun came up. I was very happy I had a tail light and a flashlight. Even before the sun comes up the Crescent is pretty busy.

I was carrying gel for the first time. I opted for Clif Shots because they had non-caffeinated chocolate. I'm trying to avoid caffeine. I have to say that they really helped a lot. I ate a Clif Shot at about one an hour, and the first one left me amazed. I was starting to go into a little decline at the hour mark, but after the gel, I felt really great.I continued on the Capital Crescent until it met up with the Rock Creek Parkway again and followed the RCP all the way home. Rock Creek was stunning today, so achingly beautiful that I was running along and laughing. When I run I really try to concentrate on my surroundings and it was terrific to do so today. The only trouble I had was that I kept thinking of music. I know this sounds innocuous, but I have a spiritual belief that I owe it to my higher power to try to appreciate whatever surroundings he/she/it has prepared for me. So I found myself running along, thinking, "help me to hear your work". It helped. The creek has a lovely murmur and I was able to concentrate on that.

The route ended up being right at 22 miles (http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2359605) I forgot to track about a half-mile detour I took when I got lost finding the RCP from the Crescent. I finished right at 3:31, which works out to 9:35 miles, which I was very happy with. I finished feeling pretty strong, and it occurred to me that I only had to run four more miles to run a marathon. The Marine Corps Marathon was today, so I could have signed up. Next year, I guess.

I did my fifth step yesterday.

Lighter week running (so far)/Look out for overtraining!

2008-10-23T17:04:00.001-04:00

This week has been a little lighter running, so far. I was ready to run 21 miles on Tuesday night-- it would have been from FEMA on to the entire Capital Crescent Trail, then back down Connecticut Ave to home in Woodley Park. But Sonia called just as I was getting to Bethesda and she wasn't feeling well. So I hopped on the metro at Friendship Heights and hurried home. I fixed dinner and put her in bed and the next morning she was doing a lot better.

So that night was just 13 miles. Today I hit the gym and lifted, nothing crazy. I'm thinking about trying to alternate long and short weeks and fill in in the gym on my shorter weeks anyway. Like I said to Sonia, it's likely that I'll just end up doing long weeks and going to the gym anyway. No, seriously, I just read a great article in this month's TrailRunner Magazine about overtraining. Pretty scary stuff-- if you really ignore it, you can get great things like Fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome! So get your sleep and eat enough.

Vamos 5K: 22:25 - How I got low cholesterol!

2008-10-19T13:26:00.000-04:00

This was a race for my kid's school. I was pretty happy with the time-- there was a killer hill right at the beginning of the course that really made me wish I had been training hills. But good. 7:13 miles.

One nice thing-- they did a health fair after the run and I got my cholesterol checked. Six months ago I had it checked and it was at 225. The nurse practitioner told me she would have to put me on medication to reduce my cholesterol if I couldn't get it down. Today I tested it and it was at 150. Really very good.

Here's how I did it:

Oatmeal and fruit every morning
Metamucil twice a day
1000 mgs of Flax Oil a day
No eggs (I now eat egg beaters or eggs with no yolks)
I read the label on everything and tried to keep my cholesterol and saturated fat as low as possible.
I ran and lifted a lot. My mileage is between 25-40 miles a week and I was lifting vigorously a couple times a week.

It probably had no direct effect, but I also started to avoid sugary foods and caffeine. They don't contribute directly to my cholesterol, but when my sugar levels get off I tend to eat garbage, i.e. cholesterol.

Disclaimer: this is what worked for me, your results may vary, I'm a computer programmer, not a doctor, please don't sue me.

Two hours trying to concentrate (trying, trying...)

2008-10-15T20:21:00.000-04:00

I ran from FEMA to our house tonight via the Capital Crescent trail. The change of seasons is so much closer to you when you run. I ran the same basic route just a week ago and it was much lighter out. By the time I turned off onto Massachusetts, it was pitch black out. A biker passed me on trail and griped me out for not having a light. I deserved it.

When I run I try to stop thinking. I have an unruly mind. It's not that I have so many important things to think about, I just roll along, thinking, worrying, thinking of music (I'm listening to the guitar solo from Fleetwood Mac's Go Your Own Way right now). I never give it a rest. So I'm never fully present in the moment I'm in.

I try to get away from that when I run. I listen to the sounds around me and try to hear the sounds, and not my impression of the sounds. I'm very seldom successful at this venture. I'm horrible at sitting meditation for just this reason. In a two hour run, I probably manage about five really good minutes when I'm not worrying about something. When running, only running. Yep, I'll get right on that (as soon as I'm done worrying about....)

43.7 Mile Week!

2008-10-13T22:08:00.000-04:00

I just tallied up my mileage for the week:

2008.10.02	18.5 Miles
2008.10.08	4.5 Miles
2008.10.09	12.3 Miles
2008.10.10	6.3 Miles
2008.10.11	7 Miles
2008.10.12	6.3 Miles
2008.10.13	7.3 Miles
Total:	43.7 Miles!

As far as I can remember, I've never put in that kind of mileage.

Two thoughts occurred to me when I tallied up my mileage:
1) Next week I'll be blogging about some new injury I've provoked by ramping up too fast (KIDS: Don't try this at home. Tim is being foolish.), and
2) That 7 miler I did this morning really wasn't a big deal at all.

On point two, I finished off my run this morning and realized that running six or seven miles just isn't all that big of a deal to me now. I was setting up my schedule a couple years ago and the thought of a six miler was always kind of a grind. Now it's just another run, and I'm pretty sure I could do that again tomorrow.

Do you remember... Jodies?

2008-10-10T20:41:00.000-04:00

I probably was the least likely candidate to be a Marine Officer. I mean, I'm really glad I did it now. I'm proud I was a Marine. I'm proud I was a Peace Corps Volunteer and that I worked for Oracle and that I lived in Barcelona five years... but being a Marine was in a different class. My memories of the Marine Corps get fonder the older I get. I loved my Marines, I remember every Marine who worked for me. Trouble is, I think war is a bad way to solve problems-- in the words of the Dalai Lama, war has become old fashioned. I'm with him.

I ran the route from FEMA to my house today. It's about six miles home. I had to take some stuff home with me so I filled up my backpack and started out. So I was running along with my backpack and some guy I passed yelled out "OORAH". I thought-- yep, I'm a guy with a crewcut running with a backpack-- guess I fit the description. It reminded me of jodies.

Jodies are the Marine equivalent to Gregorian Chants. They're the rhythms that Marines march and run to. They start out with, "C-130 rollin' down the strip...", "A yellow bird with a yellow bill...", "Around her neck she wore a yellow ribbon..." Man, I started getting homesick for the Marines, which pretty much never happens to me.

Just then I passed a bunch of tourists. They all had white shoes and visors and cameras around their necks. DC is a big deal to them. I guess it was for me, too, when I got here the first time in 1989. Anyway, they all got in line and started to march off-- and one of them started calling out a call-and-response jodie. Weird.

Running with a backpack was good. I hadn't done it for a long time. It screwed up my stride and made me feel the run in different parts of my legs than normal. In TBS we ran 12 miles every day with fifty pound packs and our weapons. How the hell did we do that? One of the other things I forget about the Marines-- it taught me what the limits of my capabilities were. And those limits are generally further out than you think.

I don't do anything halfway!

2008-10-09T11:36:00.000-04:00

I went out for a two hour run yesterday. I ran for about an hour on the mall and out to Rock Creek Parkway up to Dupont Circle, then made my way back to the mall at the State Department, ran very fast with my friends Mike and Kevin for about 40 minutes, and then ran back home to Woodley Park.

Sonia asked me last night if it was healthy for me to run that far. She suggested that I take a more moderate approach. I thought about it for a moment and laughed, "but I just don't do things that way!" It's true. I don't just learn Spanish and decide to order in Spanish in Mexican restaurants-- I move to Spain for five years and marry a Spanish woman. I don't just decide to take a weekend bike trip-- I out of the blue decide I'm going to ride from Natchez, Mississippi to Washington, DC.

I just seem to have a history of spontaneously doing crazy, over-the-top stuff. This probably qualifies me for some kind of weird mental disorder.

A little medical story

2008-10-06T18:11:00.000-04:00

Predictably, I didn't get away with my three and a half hour run without injury. My lower back can be a little iffy, and running that much makes little imbalances really turn into big deals. So I limped over to the chiropractor.

As usual, they required a medical history. They asked about previous injuries and operations. I thought a while and wrote:

snakebite (11 y/o)
trauma to base of neck from a failed somersault (no fracture)
75% rupture to knee ligament (ACL) from Tae Kwon Do accident
shoulder injury (pickup football)
elbow injuries (both elbows; fell down stairs)
strangled (fist fight while in Peace Corps)
nostril pimples (just kidding)

Two things occurred to me: 1) The doctor was going to think that I make my living as a (small) Ultimate Fighting Championship guy and, 2) It's pretty much a miracle that I'm alive.

18.5 mile run: 3:36

2008-10-01T22:09:00.000-04:00

I took the day off from work today-- I'm a little burnt out after this hurricane season. I goofed off, read about a hundred pages of John M. Barry's excellent Rising Tide about the Mississippi flood of 1927, and generally didn't do much. After lunch with Sònia I was pretty set that I was going to take a nice long nap.

But something odd happened. I remembered I meant to run with some friends from the State Department at 6:30 pm. It was 2:30. I thought, I could go for a really long run and meet up with them after.

Before I knew what I was doing I had headed out the door. I wasn't sure how long I would go out, but I had just under four hours before I met up with my friends. I headed out to the Rock Creek Park trail and entered the old Capital Crescent Trail in Georgetown. I was feeling good then, just enjoying being outdoors. It rained a little-- I always have loved running in the rain.

I turned off on Massachusetts Avenue and hit the first hills of the run right at about an hour and a half. I was unhappy about this. I started to question the wisdom of my decision to run this far, my own sanity, and whether I was a good person or not. About then I saw a CVS, where I stopped and had a Clif bar and some Gatorade. Suddenly everything seemed brighter. Hunger is bad, real bad.

I basically looped around through Georgetown until I finally ended up at State where I met up with my friends, Kevin, Mother, and Richard. Kevin and Mother were feeling fast, and Richard wanted to take it easy, so I hung with him. We chugged along for about a half an hour. After that we went for a huge plate of burritos at Santa Fe in Rosslyn.

In the end I had run about three and a half hours. Had I gone for about 15 minutes more I would have been out as long as I was for the Marine Corps Marathon in 1990. I'm stiff-- but nowhere near as destroyed as I was after the Marathon. I wonder why that is. Probably be sore tomorrow, though.

Route: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2306524

Dan's 7th Birthday

2008-09-30T12:09:00.000-04:00

Dan turned seven today! We sang "Happy Birthday/Cumpleaños Feliz" to him at the top of our lungs and he blew out the candles while he was still in bed.

It was weird to think that just seven years ago we became parents as well. He was so tiny and we were so unprepared. Funny how it all works out, though.

5000 Days

2008-09-23T18:39:00.000-04:00

15 January 1995 was 5000 days ago. So much has changed since then. To put it lightly, most things weren't turning out too well.

A lot of things have changed-- just about everything is better. One thing that has been constant all along has been my running. If anything, I run more now. I'm slower and older, but it means a lot more to me.

I went trail running with some good friends this weekend in Rockville. We got scratched and dirty and I ran into a branch that left a good bruise on my forehead. Heaven.

"The House That Ike Broke"

2008-09-16T22:03:00.000-04:00

My Brother just sent us pictures of the house I grew up in in Lumberton. Ike dropped a tree on it (Rita dropped a tree on the same house in 2005). This inspired me to write a little poem:

"The House that Ike Broke"

This is the House that Ike broke

This is the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

This is the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

This is the the Contractor
That removed the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

This is the Check
That paid off the Contractor
That removed the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

This is the Agency
That wrote the Check
That paid off the Contractor
That removed the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

This is the Son
Who works for the Agency
That wrote the Check
That paid off the Contractor
That removed the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

These are the Taxes
That pay the Son
Who works for the Agency
That wrote the Check
That paid off the Contractor
That removed the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

These are the Bills
That ate up the Paycheck
Of the Son
Who works for the Agency
That wrote the Check
That paid off the Contractor
That removed the Tree
That lay on the Roof
Of the House that Ike broke

(Next year I'll write another one called "This is the House that Ida broke" or something like that)

Run: Capital Mall, 6.75 miles, 60 minutes even

2008-09-16T15:34:00.001-04:00

I haven't blogged a run for a while, but I'm really happy about this run. I just was going to go out for an easy 40 minutes at lunchtime, but it was a pretty overcast day and I felt good. When I ran up to the Capitol and looked back over to the Washington Monument, I just thought, yeah, I'm running there. So I took off towards the obelisk.

There really are a lot of runners here in DC. Pretty serious about it, too. That's motivating. I mostly run by myself, but I like seeing other runners out there. When I ran the Marine Corps Marathon in 1990, I gravitated to a group of Marines including a Gunnery Sergeant who could not have been more than 5'5" but who was convinced that he was going to win this thing. We all stood in a circle shouting OORAH at each other until the starting gun went off. We took off like the race was 100 yards long. At the first split the Gunny and I had run a 6:15 mile! I had planned on running 10 minute miles for the entire marathon. I shouted over at him, "Gunny, we gotta slow down!" We did; the next split was a 6:45. I paid for that later-- my last miles were like 18 minutes I think. But I guess you could say I lived before I died.

Anyway, back to today. When I got to the Washington Monument, I realized I could possibly get to the Lincoln Memorial before 30 minutes were up, turn around and make an even hour. So I kept going.

Mind that just a few weeks ago I was running five minutes, walking one minute to avoid re-injuring my tender hamstring. Today it didn't seem to be a problem. When I hit the gas my legs just responded. So I went with it. As it turns out, I did a reverse split and ended up back at the Capitol at just 45 minutes. I ran back towards FEMA HQ and did loops around the block to make up the hour.

I mapped out the course on gmap-pedometer (http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2267290) and was surprised to see it came out to just at 6 3/4 miles. Cool. I figured I had maybe done five. That works out to 8'53" miles, which is a good deal quicker than my usual ten minute mile. Oorah.

Geek stuff: running Infocom games to work on Windows XP

2008-09-14T14:38:00.000-04:00

Okay, Ike didn't cause the world to collapse. It was a very expensive, huge storm that caused a lot of damage, but it didn't kill many people. My brother in Beaumont was fine. I feel vaguely foolish for having gotten so wound up about him being there. Meh.

Anyway, I found an old CD with Infocom games on it ("Lost Treasures of Infocom"). These were the old text-based games that are now called "Interactive Fiction": Zork, The Lurking Horror, Infidel... This was all very magical to me when I was a kid. I wanted to become a computer programmer because of this kind of game. So I got my CompSci degree at the Academy and after the Marines I taught Seychellois people to use computers and... somehow I ended up working for FEMA. Go figure.

The trouble is that when I went to start up Zork, I got odd characters on the screen. This killed my eighties buzz. I vaguely remembered that these weird characters were the program's attempt to talk to ANSI.SYS. This was the way programs used to do super advanced graphics like dark letters on a light background (WOW!). I understand that Al Gore invented ANSI.SYS.

Okay, here's how you fix this:

Start up a command prompt (Start->Run->CMD)
Edit your CONFIG.NT file (notepad %systemroot%\system32\config.nt)
Add a reference to ANSI.SYS at the end of CONFIG.NT (add this line: device=%SystemRoot%\system32\ansi.sys)

Now ZORK and company should start up correctly and not give you any weird characters. XYZZY.

Actually going home

2008-09-12T19:04:00.000-04:00

Okay, I didn't go home. I called my brother in Texas. It's not even raining in Beaumont, just some pretty high winds. It was reassuring to hear his voice. Okay, now I really am going home.

Still don't like Ike.

Ike paralysis

2008-09-12T18:40:00.001-04:00

I'm still at work. I am experiencing some kind of weird Ike paralysis. Like somehow as long as I stay at work, the storm won't actually hit. And my brother will be okay.

Guess I'd better head home. Long day tomorrow.

I don't like Ike

2008-09-12T14:28:00.000-04:00

I don't like Ike.

You know, I came to FEMA to help the disaster victim. But I'd be just fine if I never really got to do my job. Ike looks really bad. It's probably going to hit my old hometown in Lumberton, Texas, where folks are still talking about Rita. And my eldest brother is sticking it out near there in Beaumont. He'll probably be okay. Probably.

I'm set to work the weekend. Hey, maybe it'll fizzle out. Yeah, that could happen.

The National Weather Service says, "PERSONS NOT HEEDING EVACUATION ORDERS IN SINGLE FAMILY ONE OR TWO STORY HOMES MAY FACE CERTAIN DEATH".

I don't like Ike.

(By the way, these kickass storm graphics come from http://www.stormpulse.com/.)

September 10: Hurricane day

2008-09-10T17:43:00.001-04:00

As I mentioned way back in August, September 10th is the most active hurricane day of the year. Today is no exception. Ike is threatening the Texas coastline with a potential category 3 (or 4!) landfall.

We've been getting ready for a big landfall all season, and it didn't materialize with Gustav. Now folks are reluctant to evacuate. But the Texas coast is poorly suited to hurricanes. This is a bad combination.

I went out for six miles on the Capital mall today. Good run, no hamstring damage. My thighs are sore from yesterday's workout, but not as bad as I thought they would be. Feels funny to worry about my running while there is potential for such a disaster.

Squats: How the (not-so) Mighty are Fallen

2008-09-09T14:27:00.000-04:00

Golds Gym over here by FEMA headquarters gives us this terrific $15/no initiation fee deal. Terrific. I've been holding off getting a gym membership because I mostly see myself as a runner. Anyway, I finally ponied up and got a membership-- at very least I can go running at lunchtime instead of getting up at 5am every day to go.

Well, I thought I'd do something simple: squats. I really don't think there's much point in striating the itty bitty muscles on the third head of my triceps when my core muscles are weak. And oh goodness they're weak. It's important to know that I have hurt myself before. I reckoned, hey, I'm a 44 year old married guy: no one to impress. So I went in and did squats with an empty bar. I mean, I run 25 miles a week, I should be able squat an empty bar, right?

Well, not so much. I did one set of 20 reps with nothing on the bar. It was okay, felt a little tired there at the end. I thought, well, I'm good, I'll do another set of 20 and call it a day. I did about 12 more and then my butt started complaining about it. I pushed on through, racked the bar (which I might remind you was completely bare, empty and in no way carrying weight) and my thighs just said, "hey, you're really going to regret this."

Gustav: Landfall within 12 hours

2008-09-01T01:55:00.002-04:00

I'll admit this to you now: until now I've kept hoping this storm would somehow magically blow apart, get deflected, die down... anything but hit New Orleans. But it just keeps going on towards NOLA. This is like watching a car crash in slow motion.

Paradoxically, I was looking at some old photos of where we used to live and thought how much I miss New Orleans. Don't tell Sònia; she'll have me locked up.

Gustav: Bush visits HQ/Bee sting on the behind

2008-08-31T15:37:00.001-04:00

I'm at FEMA Headquarters. We're all preparing for the long haul, getting in additional personnel, calling people off of their leave, having meetings... There is still hope that this thing could weaken a lot before hitting, but we're trying to be realistic. It could still be really bad, and no one wants to be caught off-guard (again).

In that spirit, the President came to headquarters. I really don't have much to say about that. It certainly was the right thing for him to do.

This morning I went out and did 100 burpees in 14:25. It kicked my butt. About halfway through a bee came and stung me on the behind. I'm not kidding. Actually, it wasn't as bad as I remembered bee stings to be. It's bothering me now, though.

Gustav hits Cat 4

2008-08-30T17:27:00.002-04:00

Gustav was upgraded to Category 4 just a couple of hours ago, and it looks like nothing is in its way except a warm Gulf of Mexico. I think about the folks in Cuba and shudder.

It is so odd to be here at FEMA Headquarters, seeing the sun shine. I keep thinking I should remember this moment. All is uncertain right now-- but certainty has a way of creeping up on you. Soon we will know just how bad (or not) Gustav is going to be.

My friend Ruth is in town with her husband. We had to cancel getting together because I'll be working (who knows how long?). She said she'd be praying for the people of the gulf coast. I just thought, we're going to be working our tails off to help those people. A little prayer sure couldn't hurt.

Gustav, Hanna, and the view from FEMA Headquarters

2008-08-30T10:19:00.001-04:00

FEMA headquarters is pretty alive today. That's good; I'd hate to think we'd all be taking a three day weekend with Gustav breathing down the Gulf Coast's neck. There is a palpable sensation here that the three year anniversary of Katrina was just yesterday, two potential threats are too close for comfort, and we may have to do our jobs.

Oddly enough, three years ago today, Sonia, Daniel, and I were in Lafayette with Beau, Elena, and Luis (see http://timothychenallen.blogspot.com/2005/10/how-we-evacuated-from-hurricane-katrina.html). Right now, the forecast has Gustav rolling right into Lafayette.

Just to get my mind off of things, I went out for a 70 minute run this morning. You know, I really hope nothing happens. But the chances of that are really getting very slim.

Perl: Make KML from NOAA Forecast

2008-08-27T16:36:00.003-04:00

I wanted a simple way to make GoogleMaps KML to show forecasted storm tracks. The forcasted storm tracks can be downloaded from the National Hurricane Center and generally look like this. This is today's forecast for TS Gustav:


INITIAL      27/1500Z 18.8N  74.0W    50 KT
12HR VT     28/0000Z 19.0N  74.8W    55 KT
24HR VT     28/1200Z 19.2N  76.0W    60 KT
36HR VT     29/0000Z 19.3N  77.5W    70 KT
48HR VT     29/1200Z 19.9N  79.4W    80 KT
72HR VT     30/1200Z 21.5N  83.0W   100 KT
96HR VT     31/1200Z 24.5N  86.0W   100 KT
120HR VT     01/1200Z 28.5N  88.5W   100 KT

So I wrote a Perl program to translate that into a KML file. The program looks like this:


use strict;
#Get the storm name from the user
print "Storm Name? ";
my $storm = <STDIN>;
chomp($storm);

#Print out the KML header
print << "STARTLINE";
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<kml xmlns="http://earth.google.com/kml/2.2">
<Document>
 <name>$storm</name>
 <open>1</open>
 <description>NOAA $storm track</description>
 <Folder>
   <name>Placemarks</name>
   <description>$storm</description>
   <Placemark>
     <name>$storm</name>
     <LineString>
       <tessellate>1</tessellate>
       <coordinates>
STARTLINE

# Build kml stanzas for the line and forecast markers
my $line = "";
my $points = "";
while(<DATA>) {
chomp;
if (m/^ *(INITIAL|\d+HR VT) +(\d+\/\d{4}Z) (\d+\.\d+)N +(\d+.\d+)W +(.*)$/) {
 $line .= "-$4, $3\n";
 $points .= << "HERE"
   <Placemark>
     <name>$1, $2, $5</name>
     <Point>
       <coordinates>-$4, $3</coordinates>
     </Point>
   </Placemark>
HERE
}
}
# Print everything out, including the end of the kml
print $line;
print << "FINISHLINE";
       </coordinates>
     </LineString>
   </Placemark>
FINISHLINE
print $points;
print << "FINISHPOINTS";
 </Folder>
</Document>
</kml>
FINISHPOINTS
__DATA__
INITIAL      27/1500Z 18.8N  74.0W    50 KT
12HR VT     28/0000Z 19.0N  74.8W    55 KT
24HR VT     28/1200Z 19.2N  76.0W    60 KT
36HR VT     29/0000Z 19.3N  77.5W    70 KT
48HR VT     29/1200Z 19.9N  79.4W    80 KT
72HR VT     30/1200Z 21.5N  83.0W   100 KT
96HR VT     31/1200Z 24.5N  86.0W   100 KT
120HR VT     01/1200Z 28.5N  88.5W   100 KT

As you can see, I copy and paste the NOAA storm forecast into the program. The resulting GoogleMap looks like this:

View Hurricane Gustav Forecast in a larger map
Oh my, that looks uncomfortable for New Orleans. Keep your fingers crossed.