Aw, for God @%*'in sakes!!

...were my words as I crossed the finish line of the London Hospice 10k marathon this morning. My admonition was not a result of pain or exhaustion, although I was experiencing an abundance of both. Nor was it caused by my disappointment with my finishing time being lower than my last race. Actually, I was swearing not because it was higher...but because of how much higher it was.

The last race I competed in was in Busan, South Korea on March the 25th of this year. Same distance as before and I was only interested in finishing the race in one piece..wait,..

Uh, ok..so there is undeniable evidence that I did indeed finish that race. But look at this:

It was my first 10km and I was happy to have finished in an hour. And if you really don't believe it check this one http://seltsonblue.blogspot.com/2007/03/spring-marathon-busan.html

Alright, since that race I have not been idle. I began cross training (swimming and bike riding) in addition to running. At least something happens 5 days a week. Now, I'll be honest in that I have not been pushing the envelope hard enough to watch it bend, but still I should be in pretty good shape. Well, good enough to beat that 0:55:06. Even the last two weeks I got into race mode, went on a special diet, cut out the beer (whew! that was hard). Last night I ate 800 ounces of pasta. I mean, it was all there.

During the race, I kept a really brisk pace an stayed ahead of the pack always passing and only was passed twice. I even cued my iPod (which was loaded with heavy..heavy music) on at the 5km mark and stepped up. Man, the last k I was almost full out! So why the expletive upon crossing the line? As I said, I did beat my old time. Both were chip races so the numbers are accurate.

0:54:36...

I beat my time by 30 f#&*'in seconds. Why the angst? Technically I have nothing to be disappointed about . I achieved my goal... by 30 lousy seconds.

At this rate of progress, my great-grandchildren have a sure chance at the provincials!

the Life Academic

Since I started school two weeks ago, things have gotten a little strange. First of all, my phone stopped ringing. Then I realized that I have stopped calling people, this mean explain that...along with the internet being my sole means of communication with the outside world. Second, I am constantly distracted...my waking hours are like trying to watch two TV shows at once. This can be fun unless you're driving a car, then it is hilarious. I have a pretty big place now, 900 square feet which is a lot, nay, too much for one guy, but I spend all of my time here:



In this corner, I am actually sitting there on that stool right now. My God, I just blew my own mind.
So anyway, what is it like for a thirty two year old unmarried-yet-in-a-commited-international-relationship(she lives in Ohio) man who has jumped out of a 7 year teaching English as a second language career and gone back to university?

Bitterly sweet, like on of those nutty granola bars with the sweetened yogurt junk on one side.

Bitter: Bubble gum clacking, cell phone in the middle of class answering, lap top toting, Old Navy poster kids.

Sweet: studying philosophy

Bitter: Major financial losses

Sweet: major tax write off!

Bitter: (a few) starchy professors and poignantly pointless tutorials.

Sweet: I am not teaching the class

I refuse to make any comparative statements on how much school has changed since "back in my day", or to comment on how many new buildings have sprung up on campus, or even to tell my tutorial group that "back in '97 I had a gothic lit course in this very same room, 'cept back then all of the chairs and desks were nailed together in rows with old boards..." and so on.

I am not age consious, I was trying to be...but in every class there are at least several people who are much older than me. On the other hand, there is a much larger number of people who are younger. That's ok, I'll kick their asses on the midterms.