Friday, December 30, 2005

Boulderized

There are fairly few days when you can complain about living in Boulder, CO. The weather is almost always fair or just absolutely beautiful, the town itself is quite pretty, and the residents, for the most part, make for excellent eye candy at their worst. Being one of the healthiest places in America definitely has its perks.


It is so beautiful today, I’m sorry Gregory is in Paris (though I’m sure he’s not). A storm is blowing in over the mountains and just barely the edges of the visible foothills are being dusted with snow. Yet the temperature hovers around fifty and the sun is shining, giving the whole effect an absolutely surreal quality. The storm clouds are brown and grey but thin and wisping in slowly from the Western slope, and south of Boulder is where the snow starts. In town, the wind is up but the sun shines brightly, and I saw five cyclists out within a four-block radius of my workplace while out on my lunch break, at least two of whom were pro or pro-quality. I love this town.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Getting Back on the Asphalt

Yeah, the expression is "getting back on the horse". I don't ride horses. I never have. The very few times I have mounted an animal of the equine persuasion, I have been under the guidance of a trail boss or like authority, and I've been riding an animal which, for all intents and purposes, is dead. Its only real reason for existence if it gets to the stage where people like me are riding it is to plod about wearily in a circle.

Getting back on the asphalt, after two weeks of heavy-duty training followed by three weeks of heavy-duty-fighting-a-nasty-infection-swarming-all-over-your-mouth-nose-and-throat, is rather a cumbersome adventure. Instead of showing you just how far you've come, it shows you just how hard you can fall.

Your lungs give in after twenty paces. Your legs move like rubber appendages fighting very dense water. And when it's below freezing it only gets better! Any heat you're generating is going straight from your lungs to your heart where it spasms, mostly poofs away and then tries to move into your outer limbs, which might as well be the outer limits of the solar system in terms of the efficiency of your body heating them. As your fingers begin to resemble Jupiter, Uranus and Pluto, your face begins to resemble Mars: red, puffy, marred on the surface by breaking blood vessels in the seriously cold December morning in Colorado.

Yet, the wannabe ultrarunner prevailed. Yes, she did ten and a half miles in about three hours, which, when translated to marathoning pace gets you disqualified at about mile twenty, but she prevailed nonetheless, running about 30%, walking/joggin about 70%, and trying to just keep going 100%. It's that last part that counts, right?

Somewhere, a Frog is laughing at me.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

King Kong

From the San Francisco "Chronicle":
In remaking "King Kong," Peter Jackson added 90 minutes to the running time and nothing to the experience. It doesn't matter that his new film can't take the place of the original -- no one should expect that, and that's not the problem. The problem is that, just on its own terms, the film is overlong, repetitive and lacks impact. Even if this were the first gorilla-in-love movie ever made, audiences would come away vaguely dissatisfied, suspecting there was an intriguing idea buried somewhere in here, but it didn't quite come off.

This was about on par with what I felt about this movie. The problems weren't that Jackson used special effects in creating the feel of a 1930s-ish film, the problems were the gross inaccuracies represented by trying to roll together an action movie, a romance story and a period film all at once. Examples:

-I was absolutely blown away that Naomi Watts was able to be flung about the jungle, tossed around by multiple tyrannosaurus', sprint about the jungle and never get any scratches on her hands, face or feet. She didn't have much more than a couple of jungle-dust smudges on her...I bet Britney, Christina, Jessica and the like would KILL for her secret. I mean, c'mon now. Also, that dress has to be made of the sturdiest material on the planet. Most quick-drying too. I wonder if Peter Jackson would tell me what they used to I can make my next pair of weatherproof pants from it.

-The story didn't QUITE get there. I mean, I haven't seen the original, so maybe that's unfair, but the whole love story between Ann and Kong didn't QUITE make it. And she tried really hard, too, and the production crew went nuts trying to make him appear sad, bummed, humiliated, tormented, etc. And they did a tremendous job. It might be just a little far on the the side of ridiculous psychology for me.

-Jack Black's Carl Denham didn't drop the camera on the tripod while being chased by a stampede of brontosaurus'. Nonsense. Poppycock. I don't care who you are or how into your craft you may be, you will always--ALWAYS--save your life before any and everything else. I also thought it was pretty lucky that he wasn't trampled.

-The gunfights were absurd. 'Nuff said.

-Adrien Brody is an amazing actor; he even did well as an "action hero". They could have used him to flesh out the movie a bit more & make it more interesting as well as believable. A bit of dialogue between he and Ann could've done this; it wouldn't take much. A bit more utilizing his skills period would've been nice.

But I must say this as well: for as insane an actor as Jack Black is, for as much as I adore him as the lunatic music geek in High Fidelity and as much as I love his crazy antics in School of Rock, I thought he showcased very, very well in his role as Carl Denham. He managed to skirt the edge of genius, doofus and madness with exceptional skill and charisma. I look forward to seeing him in more roles that get him out of the typecasted goofy-comedy-actor bit more.

Friday, December 16, 2005

The Wish List

Fa la la la laaaaa...

...la la la la!!

So my Christmas this year is all about family. The ubiquitous flying frog/giant freak (see The Frog Blog for more details) is going back to France for much-needed time with his papa (he got enough time with his mother braving the outback in Australia for a month I'm sure) and some much-needed physician examining of his messed-up shoulder and the pinched nerve in his neck (yes,I have tried to tell him we have physicians here in the States). Anyway, thought I'd post my wish list, will be good for some laughs more than anything:

-A membership to Boulder rec centers. Boy am I sick of paying to swim every time I want to go! Especially when all I want is an indoor hot tub...

-An mp3 player of some sort. It doesn't have to be fancy or have a lot of space (no nanos please), 60-120 songs would be nice but nothing crazier than that; if you DO actually want to get this for me PLEASE don't get me an iPod (a recent adventure to Cherry Creek Mall to get my boyfriend's iMac repaired provided an excellent demonstration as to their flimsiness and if I have to spend anymore time at the Apple store I'll kill myself and take several associates down with me. The bored-teenage-who-will-perpetually-know-more-than-me-about-everything-with-their-gaping-stare look and attitude gets really, REALLY tiresome. Said mp3 player will also need some sort of lasso for an arm or necklace, as I need it primarily to keep me from dying of boredom while running.

-UnderArmour, UnderArmour, UnderArmour, or better yet justa Dick's gift card for UnderArmour. Winter in CO can last thru May; there's no telling when my training will be back into shorts season & one can never, EVER have enough UnderArmour.

-SmartWool socks. One more item you can never have enough of.

-A waterproof, windproof, semi-breathable, light shell for layering over all the UnderArmour.

-Another pair of Mizuno Wave Inspire shoes. Runner's rule: One pair are nice, two pair are better.

-An Amphipod of my own, so when Gregory starts training again we don't have to fight over the water belt.

-French lessons. The Rosetta Stone CD series is fine; I just want to learn so I can speak to Gregory's mom without sounding imbecilic again. AND it'd be cool to be legitimately bilingual.

Ummm...pathetically, that's pretty much it. All I want for Christmas is training gear. GCs to REI, Dick's, The North Face, etc. are always appreciated. Happy training!

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Powder!

There's the running, the riding, the swimming. The three keys areas to train for endurance sports, plus a bit of weight- and strength-training as well. This is why so many distance runners turn to the real dark side of endurance sports and become triathletes...you can't run all the time, so you mix in a bit of swimming and cycling for cross-training days and then you figure, hey, I'm already doing so much of this stuff, why not just combine it all? Next thing you know you're camping in the woods of central California to take part in a bizarre event called Wildflower and/or counting ounces of food you consume as you prepare for your first Ironman. This is why, as far as I'm concerned, "triathlete" is just a four letter word with some extra letters tacked on for good measure.

My cross-training hasn't been any different, aside from the fact that when I swim I resemble some sort of interspecies mix between a manatee and a Britney Spears dance remix...so instead I just do kickboard laps back and forth to minimize the pain and suffering I'm inflicting on everyone else with my thoroughly humiliating breast stroke. But for the most part, swimming and cycling make up the activities on those blissful days when I don't have to run, but still have to train. This weekend, however, presented a whole new experiment in cross-training...an old friend's coming into town before shipping out with his detachment to the other side of the world, and his brother and sister-in-law living in Dillon, CO, with immediate access to four major ski resorts, gave me the opportunity to spend Saturday on the slopes.

Matt and I were in several of the same classes in college. We hung out a lot and became fast friends; we've remained close since our graduation and his departure for the Army. Matt's brother, Ryan and sister-in-law, Jill, moved out here shortly before our graduation and hopped from a loft in LoDo to a house in Evergreen to a fixer-upper in Dillon. Ryan's the town barber in Frisco, scant moments away from Dillon and home to the Breckenridge ski resort, and Jill opened up her dental pratice there as well. These are some of the most incredible people I've ever known...honest, sincere, intelligent, attractive, funny, and above all, down-to-earth. I'd met Ryan and Jill when they first moved to Colorado and when Matt asked if I could come up for the weekend to hang out and ski and hack around with these guys, what could I say but yes, absolutely, I will be there. I mean, who couldn't use a mini-break before the holidays?

Matt is as awesome as he always was even if he is reading the latest Oliver North book, and Ryan and Jill are just as much fun as I remember from a few years back. They and their two dogs, Oscar and Lenny, made me feel completely at home when I arrived following a terrifying drive through a freezing blizzard on I-70 that became much less terrfying once I got Gregory's XTerra into 4-wheel drive. We got dinner, had a couple of glasses of wine and then retired, me and Matt on couches in their living room. I ended up sharing the down blanket I was using with Lenny, which was fine as long as you don't mind a midnight facial moisturizer of drool and sloppy kisses.

Matt and I embarked to Copper Mountain the next day, one of four in the immediate vicinity of Dillon. Arapahoe Basin, Keystone, Copper and Breckenridge were all within minutes of the house and it had been snowing steadily since the previous afternoon, guaranteeing at least six inches of fresh powder on the slopes. Passes and skis in hand, we geared up at the bottom of the mountain and headed up.

Poor Matt, the guy used to be a ski instructor and he was stuck with me, the "advanced novice". I've skied enough to know what I'm doing, but not enough to do it well, quickly, or gracefully. I would gaze with envy at other skiers flying by me, looking as if they were floating over the snow, as I painfully attempted to traverse the slope. After the first few runs, I told Matt I'd meet up with him for lunch so he could go enjoy his day as well. He argued for a few minutes, then gave in, gratefully...for both of us. As much as I enjoyed my friend's company and as much as I missed him, this was his vacation too. I really wanted him to enjoy it.

Without watching for Matt ahead of me and feeling horribly self-conscious about my devastating performance, I actually began to improve. The conditions couldn't have been more ideal with a good six-inch base of fresh powder all over and several feet in soem places. If you're unfamiliar with skiing in Colorado or wonder why the heck people fly all the way out here to do it, you haven't experienced powder. In contrast, skiing anywhere else is miserable due to the heavy, sluchy, often icy snow that forms in most places. Colorado's altitude and desert-dry conditions create the lightest, driest, fluffiest snow in the world, to the point where we classify it into more categories...Steamboat Springs, for example, the hardest-to-get-to resort in Colorado, and also the one you really, really don't ever want to leave once you've been there, boasts its "champagne powder" conditions, which is literally the driest snow you can find. While this may sound a bit batty, you can't judge it until you've tried it...and once you've skied in Colorado you will never want to ski anywhere but powder conditions. We get slushy stuff too, but not usually until late in the season. Winter is really just one massive powder party in the high country, setting the bar for top-notch skiing worldwide. By the end of the day even MY turns were much easier and more quickly handled and I began to feel quite comfortable in skis again, in part due to the conditions, in part due to the skis, and in part due to the fact that I'm not incredibly horrendous and, as this was for me, as much about training as it was about having fun, I put my entire focus on making it a successful day. My knees were infuriated and throbbed with the completely different range-of-motion activities they'd had to accommodate but now, one day later, they feel okay...but my calves are killing me, a spot that never bothers me when I'm running. It was really nice to get away from my usual training and hit the slopes in pursuit of some beneficial cross-training that also reminded me of other muscles that needed to be exercised as well...and of course, to hang out with some of the most amazing people I've ever known. Unfortauntely, skiing is an expensive hobby and one I can't afford, but given that the passes and rental was free (thanks to Ryan and Jill; I owe them a really, really big one) AND I had a fabulous place to stay, this weekend it was the ideal retreat.

Now, home to Roo. Thanks for reading!