I'm not big on traditions, generally. Around the start of December each year Shannon wants to make a list of all the Christmas things that we need to do - places to go, things to see. She's a champion list maker. I don't really care much one way or the other if we watch certain Christmas movies and TV shows (Charlie Brown, Elf, etc.) - with the exception of the Muppet Christmas Carol. I enjoy pretty much all Christmas junk food, but there's no particular one that I find vital to capturing the Christmas spirit.
There is, however, one Christmas tradition that I do keep, and that is to listen to Handel's Messiah, in its entirety on the last work day before Christmas. That's today for me this year. I've been doing this for at least a half dozen years. I've typically used up most of my vacation days for the year in the summer making long trips to Utah, so by the time we get close to Christmas, most of my co-workers are taking lots of time off leaving me in a mostly empty office. It's the perfect setting to crank up some tiny speakers and enjoy some fabulous music. There are several good recordings available on YouTube - I pretty much just pick one at random. So if you're looking for something good to listen to for a few hours you can't do much better than the Messiah, particularly around the Christmas (or Easter, or any other) season.
Thursday, December 22
Wednesday, December 21
I keep reading books
Bertie Wooster Sees it Through by P.G. Wodehouse
If you're not familiar with Hugh Laurie playing Bertie Wooster (and Stephen Fry as Jeeves), well you should be. Of course, once you do, it will be impossible not to imagine those two when you read a Jeeves and Wooster book. I've read several of the books, and they're all largely the same: Bertie gets mixed up with a girl he doesn't really want to be in a relationship with, he offends some stodgy old gentleman, generally makes a mess of a weekend at Aunt Agatha's and then Jeeves, the trusty, ingenious valet fixes everything. The story is narrated by Bertie with his characteristic speaking style. Honestly, these books are one of the rare instances where hearing it (or seeing it) might actually be better than reading it yourself. (As a note, the original title when published in the UK was Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit.)
Duskfall by Christopher Husberg
Have you ever wondered aloud: "What would happen if Jason Bourne was a Jedi, lived in Middle Earth, and teamed up with a pair of sisters that we will call Josephine Smith and Olivia Cowdery?" What? You haven't wondered that? (But I bet now you are . . . aren't you?) Anyway, that's the basic premise for this fantasy novel, which is clearly the first in a series. It's actually pretty good, despite my silly introduction. (Seriously, those parallels are unavoidable - one main character is pulled from the ocean after being shot, suffers from amnesia and is a super assassin, while another pair of characters are working on a miraculous translation of ancient scripture found buried somewhere. Yes, the author is LDS. And presumably has seen (or read) the Bourne movies/books.) But again, the writing is solid, and while some elements may have been borrowed, the story is not ripped off, nor overly formulaic.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by JK Rowling
I read this one aloud to the girls. I wanted to finish it myself just to see it through (Bertie Wooster and I are a lot alike), but I have decided that Shannon will be included in the remaining Harry Potter books. It's been a lot of fun to read these books as a family. As an added bonus, reading them aloud is an excellent way to notice every single time those kids struggle with a challenge that could be solved simply and easily by using a piece of magic they mastered years ago. I can only conclude that wizards are amazingly un-resourceful.
All the Light we Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
You should read this book. Shannon told me to read this book ages ago, and it sat on my pile. It's about WWII, and Shannon is a sucker for anything about people during WWII, but I wasn't sure that I was excited for a fictional story about the lives of a young French girl and a German boy during the war. But you don't have to be dumb like me, and should just go ahead and read the book. It's both exciting and beautifully written. It's almost like it won a Pulitzer and spent 118 weeks on the New York Times best seller list for a reason.
The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie
This is the first novel featuring Miss Marple, who went on to solve many more mysteries. While this is not her best work, Agatha Christie novels are always solid with a mystery that seems impossible until the hero finally works it out for you. It's also fun to read a story written in 1930, when telephones were new things, most people didn't own cars and evidently the Vicar could just tag along with the police during murder investigations and no one batted an eye.
If you're not familiar with Hugh Laurie playing Bertie Wooster (and Stephen Fry as Jeeves), well you should be. Of course, once you do, it will be impossible not to imagine those two when you read a Jeeves and Wooster book. I've read several of the books, and they're all largely the same: Bertie gets mixed up with a girl he doesn't really want to be in a relationship with, he offends some stodgy old gentleman, generally makes a mess of a weekend at Aunt Agatha's and then Jeeves, the trusty, ingenious valet fixes everything. The story is narrated by Bertie with his characteristic speaking style. Honestly, these books are one of the rare instances where hearing it (or seeing it) might actually be better than reading it yourself. (As a note, the original title when published in the UK was Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit.)
Duskfall by Christopher Husberg
Have you ever wondered aloud: "What would happen if Jason Bourne was a Jedi, lived in Middle Earth, and teamed up with a pair of sisters that we will call Josephine Smith and Olivia Cowdery?" What? You haven't wondered that? (But I bet now you are . . . aren't you?) Anyway, that's the basic premise for this fantasy novel, which is clearly the first in a series. It's actually pretty good, despite my silly introduction. (Seriously, those parallels are unavoidable - one main character is pulled from the ocean after being shot, suffers from amnesia and is a super assassin, while another pair of characters are working on a miraculous translation of ancient scripture found buried somewhere. Yes, the author is LDS. And presumably has seen (or read) the Bourne movies/books.) But again, the writing is solid, and while some elements may have been borrowed, the story is not ripped off, nor overly formulaic.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by JK Rowling
I read this one aloud to the girls. I wanted to finish it myself just to see it through (Bertie Wooster and I are a lot alike), but I have decided that Shannon will be included in the remaining Harry Potter books. It's been a lot of fun to read these books as a family. As an added bonus, reading them aloud is an excellent way to notice every single time those kids struggle with a challenge that could be solved simply and easily by using a piece of magic they mastered years ago. I can only conclude that wizards are amazingly un-resourceful.
All the Light we Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
You should read this book. Shannon told me to read this book ages ago, and it sat on my pile. It's about WWII, and Shannon is a sucker for anything about people during WWII, but I wasn't sure that I was excited for a fictional story about the lives of a young French girl and a German boy during the war. But you don't have to be dumb like me, and should just go ahead and read the book. It's both exciting and beautifully written. It's almost like it won a Pulitzer and spent 118 weeks on the New York Times best seller list for a reason.
The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie
This is the first novel featuring Miss Marple, who went on to solve many more mysteries. While this is not her best work, Agatha Christie novels are always solid with a mystery that seems impossible until the hero finally works it out for you. It's also fun to read a story written in 1930, when telephones were new things, most people didn't own cars and evidently the Vicar could just tag along with the police during murder investigations and no one batted an eye.
Thursday, November 17
Heavy Bag
The other night, Ella put her socks on her hands and set up a pillow from the couch to work on her boxing. She only spent about 30 seconds working the heavy bag before moving on to some other activity.
Tuesday, November 15
Royal Wreath
Here's Ella's most sophisticated hairstyle: the Royal Wreath. She wears this to church nearly every Sunday and 100% of the credit goes to her. (And not her parents.)
Sunday, November 13
Fall at Dawn
The absolute, hands down, best time to be outside is the moments just before and just after dawn. Now, don't misunderstand me. Before dawn is one of the worst times to wake up and get out of bed. But if you manage to do it, it's often worth it.
One of the best things about running is that it gets me outside, sometimes even at this magical hour. And even better, when the sun is coming up later in the fall, and the leaves are changing color, it is fabulous. Most days I run through a wooded area on a dirt path and when the leaves are changing color, its magical.
I am not a photographer. I don't find it an interesting hobby. I don't often take pictures, and I don't own a decent camera. But fall leaves at dawn, when you're underneath them, and the light comes in at a low angle so that every tree for as far as you can see if back lit is breath taking. Its pretty much the only time I ever wish that I could take a good photograph.
The leaves are falling rapidly by now, at least, they are at my house. But here's a picture I took, with my crummy phone, not at dawn, which does a terrible job of capturing how wonderful these woods can look. But I like it anyway.
One of the best things about running is that it gets me outside, sometimes even at this magical hour. And even better, when the sun is coming up later in the fall, and the leaves are changing color, it is fabulous. Most days I run through a wooded area on a dirt path and when the leaves are changing color, its magical.
I am not a photographer. I don't find it an interesting hobby. I don't often take pictures, and I don't own a decent camera. But fall leaves at dawn, when you're underneath them, and the light comes in at a low angle so that every tree for as far as you can see if back lit is breath taking. Its pretty much the only time I ever wish that I could take a good photograph.
The leaves are falling rapidly by now, at least, they are at my house. But here's a picture I took, with my crummy phone, not at dawn, which does a terrible job of capturing how wonderful these woods can look. But I like it anyway.
Saturday, November 12
The Bomfer Non
Friday, November 11
Indianapolis Monumental Marathon Report
I say that for someone who runs marathons (totally pluralized that now that I've run two), I've done a pretty awesome job of not prattling on endlessly about it in the digital world. I'll try to be brief here, as well, and I promise not to use a single bar graph, regression or extrapolation.
I ran the "Monumental Marathon" in Indianapolis on November 5th. I was talked into signing up for this race sometime in the spring by a friend. I'm still undecided about whether or not we're still on speaking terms.
I've run one previous marathon, the 2010 St. George Marathon (also talked into that one by a friend) which I completed off of 365 miles of training over about 5 months. Prior to those 5 months of training I wasn't running at all. I run a bit more than that these days. In the 5 months before this marathon, I put in 708 miles, and in the previous 12 months I had run 1,329 miles. (wouldn't all these numbers look nice in a bar graph?) This is all to say that I was looking for a significant improvement on my person best of 4 hours, 10 minutes (that's 9:33 per mile). A nice ballpark number that wasn't out of the question was to shave off an even hour and do it in 3:10 (7:15/mile) which is also the time I would need to hit to qualify for the 2018 Boston Marathon (registration for the 2017 race, which is in April, is already closed). This was an ambitious goal to say the least. Most people never qualify for Boston, let alone on their second marathon, and no one ever sets PRs by an hour. But, the running I've done to this point, and two recent half marathons pointed to this as a somewhat reasonable goal. (And then two days before the race fivethirtyeight published their marathon time predictor which said I would run a 3:18. I was not pleased.)
Anyway (and at this point, we all recognize that my earlier pledge to keep this brief is totally going out the window) we headed down to Indy on Friday afternoon. We left Julia and Ella with some friends, and drove down with my running buddy and his wife. We got our stuff, had dinner and checked into our respective hotels to try and sleep. Sleep never goes very well before a race, and being in a strange bed didn't help. I slept well until about 3:30, and after that I was up every 20 minutes the rest of the night. I finally got up about 6:00 so I could have my oatmeal and banana breakfast. Everyone else in the hotel lobby was already wearing all their race gear, I was in my pjs. I wonder if they were looking at us confused as to why we were the only group of people that didn't look like anyone was running a race.
We walked the 0.7 miles to the starting line, which I counted as my warmup. It was about 40 degrees, clear and calm - perfect running weather. The marathon had 4,000 runners and the half marathon another 10,000 and we all started together. I felt special to be allowed in the very first corral, though they didn't police them very tightly and just about anyone could get in. After a shaky national anthem, we were off.
Even being close to the start, with 14,000 runners the race was pretty congested at the beginning. We were taking up all four lanes of the road and it took nearly a mile for everyone to get up to speed. (Are there people out there that get a thrill out of being passed by hundreds of people in the first mile of a race? Is that why they always line up so close to the start? Please folks, if you're not confident of where to line up, stay out of the front third of the pack. And remember at a race like Indy, that means there should be five thousand people in front of you.) I ran with Trent for the first half mile or so, until the 3:10 pace group finally caught up to us and I took off with them.
The half and full marathon stay together for the first 7-ish miles, and the race stayed pretty crowded for the first 4 or 5. I tried to keep as close to the pacer as possible. He did a pretty solid job, and I even got to hold the pace flag for a couple of miles! (I'm super cool.) When the half marathon peeled off, I expected to see our group of 30-ish runners diminish substantially, but apparently nearly everyone with us was doing the full. The 10k split came in at 44:45 (7:13/mile) and I was in 364th place at that point.
The first half of the marathon really felt like just another Saturday morning run. I guess that means I was reasonably well prepared, but at the same time, I was a little disappointed that I wasn't more excited for the race. I got a little burned out in training in September and October and was perhaps over-prepared mentally for how not fun the race was going to be. At the same time, it was flying by as we passed mile marker after mile marker. The half way split was at 1:34:38 (7:14/mil, 365th place).
The course was reasonably nice. The roads were, at times, in need of repair. The volunteers did a pretty good job with water and Gatorade, and I ate some of the fruit snacks for runners that I was carrying. I've never really figured out calorie intake for long runs. While my first goal was to finish in 3:10, in order to actually get in to the Boston Marathon, you have to beat your qualifying time by a few minutes - there are just too many people who qualify to get them all in, so they take the fastest first. So, to actually get in to Boston, I would need to run roughly a 3:07:30 marathon. As I was with the 3:10 pace group, the only way that was going to happen is if I felt good enough to leave them behind a half dozen miles or more before the finish line to make up that extra time. I didn't really expect that to happen, but I had surprised myself in my previous races, so it was possible. At Mile 16, I was feeling good, and thinking that going off the front of the group might be a possibility. That's the last time I felt that way. At the 30k split (30k = 18.6 miles; a marathon is 42.2k) I was at 2:14:53 (7:15/mile, 338th place).
Somewhere around mile 13 is where running stops being fun, in my opinion, and somewhere around mile 19 is where it becomes stupid. That's where feet start hurting, legs start hurting and energy levels start falling. By Mile 19 I knew I wouldn't be making any heroic dashes off the front of the pack - I'd be lucky to hold on to the pacer. We were running on the side of a significantly crowned road and it was making my left quad hurt. My stomach started to reject the notion of eating or drinking anything. In short, marathons aren't fun. At Mile 22 the pace group rudely left me behind. At Mile 23 they were only 10 seconds ahead of me, but I had nothing left to make up that distance - from there the race became a solitary event for me. I had focused up to that point on staying very close to our pace leader, and by the time they left me behind, I noticed that the group had fallen to only a handful of members. The last time I remember looking around was around mile 19, and I thought there were still 15 of us then. Apparently I wasn't the only one suffering.
At Mile 23 we rejoined with the half marathoners, but these were people who were finishing in roughly 3 hours - the 13:45/mile folks. The race was very good about marking off separate lanes so the marathoners wouldn't get caught up in the slower half marathon traffic. But I was fading quickly. I think at Mile 24 I could still see the 3:10 pacer up ahead, but that gap was growing. At Mile 25 I took my first walking break - I knew I wasn't going to hit 3:10, and my drive to squeeze out every last second had failed. I was losing time, and I didn't care. I still kept up a decent pace walking and took off running again. I took another walking break in the last mile. I hoped Trent wouldn't catch me. I checked by watch and decided that at least I would make it under 3:15. And I wanted to make sure Shannon would see me running toward the finish line.
I finished in 3:14:25. 7:26/mile. 353rd place out of 4175. 312/2412 among men. 74 out of 327 in my age group. Personal best by 55 minutes 35 seconds.
It's now five days later. My legs have basically stopped hurting and I may even try running tomorrow. Through the whole process, I've had a strange relationship with this marathon. I've spent over 150 hours running this year; that's only counting the actual time I am actively running down the street. I ran a freaking marathon. But I was less excited for and excited by this race than any other race I've done in years. It's like I was over prepared for how tough it was going to be. Even the run itself didn't feel as fun as I'd hoped. It wasn't a euphoric "look at me, I'm running a marathon". It felt more like something I was just doing because that's what I was supposed to go and do. I'm glad that I set a PR, and glad that I have a more than respectable time to my name. I'm only 4 and a half minutes from a significant milestone of qualifying for Boston, though I'm about 7 minutes from actually getting to run in Boston. But I don't have any plans to run another marathon. But I also know that's what a lot of marathon runners say right after they've run one. I guess we'll just have to see. In the mean time, there's a 4 mile race on Thanksgiving morning that I can do, if I don't have to work overnight the night before . . . .
I ran the "Monumental Marathon" in Indianapolis on November 5th. I was talked into signing up for this race sometime in the spring by a friend. I'm still undecided about whether or not we're still on speaking terms.
I've run one previous marathon, the 2010 St. George Marathon (also talked into that one by a friend) which I completed off of 365 miles of training over about 5 months. Prior to those 5 months of training I wasn't running at all. I run a bit more than that these days. In the 5 months before this marathon, I put in 708 miles, and in the previous 12 months I had run 1,329 miles. (wouldn't all these numbers look nice in a bar graph?) This is all to say that I was looking for a significant improvement on my person best of 4 hours, 10 minutes (that's 9:33 per mile). A nice ballpark number that wasn't out of the question was to shave off an even hour and do it in 3:10 (7:15/mile) which is also the time I would need to hit to qualify for the 2018 Boston Marathon (registration for the 2017 race, which is in April, is already closed). This was an ambitious goal to say the least. Most people never qualify for Boston, let alone on their second marathon, and no one ever sets PRs by an hour. But, the running I've done to this point, and two recent half marathons pointed to this as a somewhat reasonable goal. (And then two days before the race fivethirtyeight published their marathon time predictor which said I would run a 3:18. I was not pleased.)
Anyway (and at this point, we all recognize that my earlier pledge to keep this brief is totally going out the window) we headed down to Indy on Friday afternoon. We left Julia and Ella with some friends, and drove down with my running buddy and his wife. We got our stuff, had dinner and checked into our respective hotels to try and sleep. Sleep never goes very well before a race, and being in a strange bed didn't help. I slept well until about 3:30, and after that I was up every 20 minutes the rest of the night. I finally got up about 6:00 so I could have my oatmeal and banana breakfast. Everyone else in the hotel lobby was already wearing all their race gear, I was in my pjs. I wonder if they were looking at us confused as to why we were the only group of people that didn't look like anyone was running a race.
We walked the 0.7 miles to the starting line, which I counted as my warmup. It was about 40 degrees, clear and calm - perfect running weather. The marathon had 4,000 runners and the half marathon another 10,000 and we all started together. I felt special to be allowed in the very first corral, though they didn't police them very tightly and just about anyone could get in. After a shaky national anthem, we were off.
The starting area. Just some of the many people.
Even being close to the start, with 14,000 runners the race was pretty congested at the beginning. We were taking up all four lanes of the road and it took nearly a mile for everyone to get up to speed. (Are there people out there that get a thrill out of being passed by hundreds of people in the first mile of a race? Is that why they always line up so close to the start? Please folks, if you're not confident of where to line up, stay out of the front third of the pack. And remember at a race like Indy, that means there should be five thousand people in front of you.) I ran with Trent for the first half mile or so, until the 3:10 pace group finally caught up to us and I took off with them.
The half and full marathon stay together for the first 7-ish miles, and the race stayed pretty crowded for the first 4 or 5. I tried to keep as close to the pacer as possible. He did a pretty solid job, and I even got to hold the pace flag for a couple of miles! (I'm super cool.) When the half marathon peeled off, I expected to see our group of 30-ish runners diminish substantially, but apparently nearly everyone with us was doing the full. The 10k split came in at 44:45 (7:13/mile) and I was in 364th place at that point.
The first half of the marathon really felt like just another Saturday morning run. I guess that means I was reasonably well prepared, but at the same time, I was a little disappointed that I wasn't more excited for the race. I got a little burned out in training in September and October and was perhaps over-prepared mentally for how not fun the race was going to be. At the same time, it was flying by as we passed mile marker after mile marker. The half way split was at 1:34:38 (7:14/mil, 365th place).
The course was reasonably nice. The roads were, at times, in need of repair. The volunteers did a pretty good job with water and Gatorade, and I ate some of the fruit snacks for runners that I was carrying. I've never really figured out calorie intake for long runs. While my first goal was to finish in 3:10, in order to actually get in to the Boston Marathon, you have to beat your qualifying time by a few minutes - there are just too many people who qualify to get them all in, so they take the fastest first. So, to actually get in to Boston, I would need to run roughly a 3:07:30 marathon. As I was with the 3:10 pace group, the only way that was going to happen is if I felt good enough to leave them behind a half dozen miles or more before the finish line to make up that extra time. I didn't really expect that to happen, but I had surprised myself in my previous races, so it was possible. At Mile 16, I was feeling good, and thinking that going off the front of the group might be a possibility. That's the last time I felt that way. At the 30k split (30k = 18.6 miles; a marathon is 42.2k) I was at 2:14:53 (7:15/mile, 338th place).
Somewhere around mile 13 is where running stops being fun, in my opinion, and somewhere around mile 19 is where it becomes stupid. That's where feet start hurting, legs start hurting and energy levels start falling. By Mile 19 I knew I wouldn't be making any heroic dashes off the front of the pack - I'd be lucky to hold on to the pacer. We were running on the side of a significantly crowned road and it was making my left quad hurt. My stomach started to reject the notion of eating or drinking anything. In short, marathons aren't fun. At Mile 22 the pace group rudely left me behind. At Mile 23 they were only 10 seconds ahead of me, but I had nothing left to make up that distance - from there the race became a solitary event for me. I had focused up to that point on staying very close to our pace leader, and by the time they left me behind, I noticed that the group had fallen to only a handful of members. The last time I remember looking around was around mile 19, and I thought there were still 15 of us then. Apparently I wasn't the only one suffering.
At Mile 23 we rejoined with the half marathoners, but these were people who were finishing in roughly 3 hours - the 13:45/mile folks. The race was very good about marking off separate lanes so the marathoners wouldn't get caught up in the slower half marathon traffic. But I was fading quickly. I think at Mile 24 I could still see the 3:10 pacer up ahead, but that gap was growing. At Mile 25 I took my first walking break - I knew I wasn't going to hit 3:10, and my drive to squeeze out every last second had failed. I was losing time, and I didn't care. I still kept up a decent pace walking and took off running again. I took another walking break in the last mile. I hoped Trent wouldn't catch me. I checked by watch and decided that at least I would make it under 3:15. And I wanted to make sure Shannon would see me running toward the finish line.
Pretending I was finishing strong.
I finished in 3:14:25. 7:26/mile. 353rd place out of 4175. 312/2412 among men. 74 out of 327 in my age group. Personal best by 55 minutes 35 seconds.
Shirt, bib, hat and medal. The blue sticker on the bib got me into the first corral.
Closeup of the medal, with downtown Indy and the state capitol.
It's now five days later. My legs have basically stopped hurting and I may even try running tomorrow. Through the whole process, I've had a strange relationship with this marathon. I've spent over 150 hours running this year; that's only counting the actual time I am actively running down the street. I ran a freaking marathon. But I was less excited for and excited by this race than any other race I've done in years. It's like I was over prepared for how tough it was going to be. Even the run itself didn't feel as fun as I'd hoped. It wasn't a euphoric "look at me, I'm running a marathon". It felt more like something I was just doing because that's what I was supposed to go and do. I'm glad that I set a PR, and glad that I have a more than respectable time to my name. I'm only 4 and a half minutes from a significant milestone of qualifying for Boston, though I'm about 7 minutes from actually getting to run in Boston. But I don't have any plans to run another marathon. But I also know that's what a lot of marathon runners say right after they've run one. I guess we'll just have to see. In the mean time, there's a 4 mile race on Thanksgiving morning that I can do, if I don't have to work overnight the night before . . . .
Thursday, September 29
Welcome back to Clark's Reading Corner: Where you sit in the corner and read.
Wonder by R. J. Palacio
A while ago, I got on an anti-young adult fiction kick. I got tired of adults spending all their time reading books about teenagers saving the world from bizarre societal collapses in the near future. I say this to underscore my praise of Wonder. You should read this book. It's about 5th graders - one in particular who has an indescribably messed up face - and navigating a real world that it, at times, nasty, brutish and short. Wonder became very well known a few years ago when it first came out, and I read it back then, but this fall we used it for a 'Blockburger Book Club' book (first ever).
Even though Julia is only in 3rd grade this year, we have unfortunately already begun to see that people aren't always nice at school, so we decided to read the book in sections and discuss it around the dinner table (much to Ella's displeasure). The book is an excellent reminder that the world is not divided up between good people and bad people. Instead, people are mostly just trying to survive through their own lives, and many of the offenses that we experience are because other people are more concerned about other things happening to them, or are simply unaware of how their actions are effecting others. That's not, however, an excuse for doing terrible things to others out of ignorance or apathy, instead it's a call to be more empathetic, and more open with others. The book is a beautifully written reminder that the world is a better place when we learn to look beyond ourselves. And hopefully between the book and her parent's not-too-subtle discussion, Julia will help make 3rd grade a little bit more bearable for someone this year.
The Sex Lives of Cannibals by J. Maarten Troost
This is a memoir-style book of what it's like for an American to move to a tiny tropical island in Kiribati. Hint: Tiny tropical islands do not look like Caribbean resorts. It's humorous and enlightening and not about cannibals or their sex lives. My longer review was recently featured on the bookburgerblog. (It's almost like being married to the owner of the blog gives me some kind of exclusive access.)
Lost in Shangi-La by Mitchell Zuckoff
During WWII, the US Air Force discovered* a remote mountain valley in New Guinea (now Indonesia) populated with many villages of natives who had never had contact with Western Civilization. So, being westerners, they started taking whatever opportunities they had to fly over and look at the "savages" that lived down there in complete isolation. Eventually, one of these flights crash landed, killing most of those on board but leaving 3 survivors. The book is fairly interesting, detailing the background of the major characters, the flight, the crash, the survival and eventual rescue. I found it very interesting that finding the survivors turned out to be much easier than rescuing them - there were no roads to this remove valley, nowhere to land a plane, and it was too high for helicopters to get there. It's got a similar sort of feel to Unbroken by Hillenbrand, but Unbroken is better.
*They weren't really the first westerners to find the valley, but we close, and the limited contact the other group had had was with a different part of the valley, so it doesn't really matter, and they didn't know about it at the time anyway.
Shadows of Self by Brandon Sanderson
The Bands of Mourning by Brandon Sanderson
These are Mistborn #5 ands #6 respectively. Mistborn is a great trilogy. Fantastic. And then Sanderson wrote Alloy of Law, which is in the same world, but hundreds of years later, and has graduated from middle ages technology, to the old west. Book 4 didn't capture the same quality as the original trilogy - in stead of feeling like an epic quest, it was more of a cheesy western, right down to the terrible title (is it a pun?). I waited to read #5 until #6 came out to complete this second Mistborn trilogy. Well, I have good new and bad news. Bad news first: it's not a trilogy, there's a 4th book to this set which is sadly not written yet. I don't like being patient for new books to come out, so I wouldn't blame anyone for holding off on reading these until the next book is close to completion. On the upside, the story from #4 has grown to feel more important and expansive, and the world has literally expanded as some new characters from previously unexplored lands have arrived. There is, of course, a shadowy sinister plot which we're only gradually becoming aware of. It took me a distressingly long time to notice that the main characters are named Wax and Wayne. Wax (short for Waxillium, which some Utah county couples are undoubtedly considering for a name right now) is the heroic lawman, with his sidekick Wayne who is delightfully quirky, specializing in disguises and, well, stealing your stuff. (But he always leaves something in trade.)
So, you should read Mistborn, because it's excellent, and if you liked it, you should continue on with the series, and if you find #4 to be a little underwhelming as I did, feel confident that the series improves from there, not back to the level of the original three, but certainly worth reading.
Wonder by R. J. Palacio
A while ago, I got on an anti-young adult fiction kick. I got tired of adults spending all their time reading books about teenagers saving the world from bizarre societal collapses in the near future. I say this to underscore my praise of Wonder. You should read this book. It's about 5th graders - one in particular who has an indescribably messed up face - and navigating a real world that it, at times, nasty, brutish and short. Wonder became very well known a few years ago when it first came out, and I read it back then, but this fall we used it for a 'Blockburger Book Club' book (first ever).
Even though Julia is only in 3rd grade this year, we have unfortunately already begun to see that people aren't always nice at school, so we decided to read the book in sections and discuss it around the dinner table (much to Ella's displeasure). The book is an excellent reminder that the world is not divided up between good people and bad people. Instead, people are mostly just trying to survive through their own lives, and many of the offenses that we experience are because other people are more concerned about other things happening to them, or are simply unaware of how their actions are effecting others. That's not, however, an excuse for doing terrible things to others out of ignorance or apathy, instead it's a call to be more empathetic, and more open with others. The book is a beautifully written reminder that the world is a better place when we learn to look beyond ourselves. And hopefully between the book and her parent's not-too-subtle discussion, Julia will help make 3rd grade a little bit more bearable for someone this year.
The Sex Lives of Cannibals by J. Maarten Troost
This is a memoir-style book of what it's like for an American to move to a tiny tropical island in Kiribati. Hint: Tiny tropical islands do not look like Caribbean resorts. It's humorous and enlightening and not about cannibals or their sex lives. My longer review was recently featured on the bookburgerblog. (It's almost like being married to the owner of the blog gives me some kind of exclusive access.)
Lost in Shangi-La by Mitchell Zuckoff
During WWII, the US Air Force discovered* a remote mountain valley in New Guinea (now Indonesia) populated with many villages of natives who had never had contact with Western Civilization. So, being westerners, they started taking whatever opportunities they had to fly over and look at the "savages" that lived down there in complete isolation. Eventually, one of these flights crash landed, killing most of those on board but leaving 3 survivors. The book is fairly interesting, detailing the background of the major characters, the flight, the crash, the survival and eventual rescue. I found it very interesting that finding the survivors turned out to be much easier than rescuing them - there were no roads to this remove valley, nowhere to land a plane, and it was too high for helicopters to get there. It's got a similar sort of feel to Unbroken by Hillenbrand, but Unbroken is better.
*They weren't really the first westerners to find the valley, but we close, and the limited contact the other group had had was with a different part of the valley, so it doesn't really matter, and they didn't know about it at the time anyway.
Shadows of Self by Brandon Sanderson
The Bands of Mourning by Brandon Sanderson
These are Mistborn #5 ands #6 respectively. Mistborn is a great trilogy. Fantastic. And then Sanderson wrote Alloy of Law, which is in the same world, but hundreds of years later, and has graduated from middle ages technology, to the old west. Book 4 didn't capture the same quality as the original trilogy - in stead of feeling like an epic quest, it was more of a cheesy western, right down to the terrible title (is it a pun?). I waited to read #5 until #6 came out to complete this second Mistborn trilogy. Well, I have good new and bad news. Bad news first: it's not a trilogy, there's a 4th book to this set which is sadly not written yet. I don't like being patient for new books to come out, so I wouldn't blame anyone for holding off on reading these until the next book is close to completion. On the upside, the story from #4 has grown to feel more important and expansive, and the world has literally expanded as some new characters from previously unexplored lands have arrived. There is, of course, a shadowy sinister plot which we're only gradually becoming aware of. It took me a distressingly long time to notice that the main characters are named Wax and Wayne. Wax (short for Waxillium, which some Utah county couples are undoubtedly considering for a name right now) is the heroic lawman, with his sidekick Wayne who is delightfully quirky, specializing in disguises and, well, stealing your stuff. (But he always leaves something in trade.)
So, you should read Mistborn, because it's excellent, and if you liked it, you should continue on with the series, and if you find #4 to be a little underwhelming as I did, feel confident that the series improves from there, not back to the level of the original three, but certainly worth reading.
Saturday, September 10
Marathons are Stupid
No, they're beyond stupid. No one should ever run one. And even more to the point, no one should ever train to run one. It's awful, and no fun, and painful.
So far this year, I have spent 125 hours running 1024 miles. I've run through pouring rain and hot sticky days, through snow and ice. And you know what it's done for me? It's given me legs with weird pains, and shoes with holes in them. It's made me hungry and Shannon has had to put up with all the smelly clothes. And still I've got 2 months to go filled with what should be 300 more miles running.
Sadly, the marathon people have already got my money, so I guess I'll go through with this, but just know everybody needs to know that marathons are stupid. No one should run that far. So, if you're thinking about it - don't. Run a 10k; they're just long enough that you have to pace yourself and there is time to run people down and everything, but short enough that your whole life doesn't need to be consumed by them. Or run a half marathon, it's a nice distance and you can feel cool for having run that far.
Just don't run a marathon, because they're stupid.
Tuesday, August 30
Books that Have been Read by Me
Here's what I've been reading. I'm currently in the middle of 3 books (not something I typically do), so I figured it was time to write up the last set before the list just gets too long.
Lafayette in the Somewhat United States by Sarah Vowell
A history book in the style of Bryson, wherein the author tells about an important historical figure, but also includes stories about visiting the historical sites in person and comments on the quality of the reenactments as well as including any curious details she might have found in an old letter the subject wrote. The Marquis de Lafayette is probably familiar to anyone who made it through grade school in the US (and he's the one all the cities named Lafayette are named for), but I'd never really known anything about him, or what he actually did. It turns out, he was a very devoted revolutionary, found it an honor to be shot in the leg for the cause of liberty, and was a teenager who kinda ditched his wife back in France to go have an adventure in America. I found the book fun and relatively short (268 pages). Also, the book has no chapters, so, good luck finding a decent place to stop reading when you're tired.
The Hour of Land by Terry Tempest Williams
I guess this book made all sorts of 'Books you should read' lists, so Shannon picked it up from the library for me. Terry Williams is a big conservationist and poet, and she has a chapter about a dozen or so different National Parks. I love National Parks! I hate poetry. I struggled with this book, and Shannon would keep telling me, "You don't have to keep reading it," but I stuck it out to the end. If you pick this book up, know that each chapter is very different. I enjoyed stories of Gettysburg National Military Park, and hearing about the interactions between oil drilling and Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota. But when she took 10 different colored notebooks for her 10 day trip to Texas to fill with poetry that was just too much.
Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites by Chris Heimerdinger
Somehow I made it through childhood without reading one of the "classics" of Mormon young adult fiction. Though fully aware of the Tennis Shoes franchise, I didn't really know anything about it, so when a copy made it to our house from some friends who were moving and unloading stuff, I picked it up from a mixture of boredom and research as to whether Julia would like it. Basically, two kids find a secret worm hole that drops them off right in the middle of the book of Alma. And of course a little sister is tagging along for good measure. They have adventures with the Nephite armies and eventually make their way home. The more troublesome of the two kids turns his life around and everything gets wrapped up with a nice bow. What can I say, it's a book for 11 year olds. Also, I always figured the Tennis Shoes would somehow be mentioned a little bit more or something, but I was wrong. The book could just as easily been named Blonde Kids Among the Nephites.
A Mathematician Reads the Newspaper by John Allen Paulos
I heard about this book years ago, but knew nothing other than the title and put it on my 'to read' list. Where it sat for the better part of a decade because the library didn't have a copy. After years of waiting, it wasn't worth the wait. The book is a bunch of 1 to 4 page chapters that are musings about newspaper articles, but most of them don't really go anywhere. About the stock market the author points out that the stock market is pretty much random. About primary elections he notes that different voting methods will give different results. But these ideas never develop into anything more than "Hey, I want to tell you what I'm thinking right now." As I read this book, I found myself wishing it was more like a book named Innumeracy which I read years ago where that author talks about the problems associated with people who do not understand numbers. And then, I saw it right on the cover of the book I was reading: it's the same author! Read Innumeracy, skip this one.
The Cursed Child by J K Rowling, Jack Thorne and John Tiffany
Yes, it's a new book for the Potterverse, but it's not really a book, it's a play. And not really written by Rowling, but as a triumvirate of writers. Plays aren't meant to be read, but to be seen - but I read it anyway. It's 17 or so years post HP #7, and Harry has a son, Albus, who he doesn't relate well to, so of course Albus and his best friend (Malfoy Jr.) get into big trouble when they go back in time and mess up the space time continuum. Basically, they go back to the tri-wizard tournament but then Biff gets the Almanac and when they come back they end up in a different 1985 where gambling is legal, Ron and Hermione aren't married, and Albus and Malfoy Jr aren't friends. So they go back in time again to try and fix it, but then things are messed up worse and Voldemort is back and Hermione is married to Biff and lots of people don't exist anymore and the school teacher doesn't fall down the ravine! In the end, the world is, of course, set right, we all learn to believe in ourselves and we remember that when you have a flying Ford Anglia, where you're going you don't need roads.
The book/play reads a lot like fan fiction, and I would have rather had them write a new story than to go back in time to revisit the 'Under the Sea' dance, but it was still entertaining enough. The writing feels very sparse because it's a play so all you're reading is dialogue and a few stage directions.
Lafayette in the Somewhat United States by Sarah Vowell
A history book in the style of Bryson, wherein the author tells about an important historical figure, but also includes stories about visiting the historical sites in person and comments on the quality of the reenactments as well as including any curious details she might have found in an old letter the subject wrote. The Marquis de Lafayette is probably familiar to anyone who made it through grade school in the US (and he's the one all the cities named Lafayette are named for), but I'd never really known anything about him, or what he actually did. It turns out, he was a very devoted revolutionary, found it an honor to be shot in the leg for the cause of liberty, and was a teenager who kinda ditched his wife back in France to go have an adventure in America. I found the book fun and relatively short (268 pages). Also, the book has no chapters, so, good luck finding a decent place to stop reading when you're tired.
The Hour of Land by Terry Tempest Williams
I guess this book made all sorts of 'Books you should read' lists, so Shannon picked it up from the library for me. Terry Williams is a big conservationist and poet, and she has a chapter about a dozen or so different National Parks. I love National Parks! I hate poetry. I struggled with this book, and Shannon would keep telling me, "You don't have to keep reading it," but I stuck it out to the end. If you pick this book up, know that each chapter is very different. I enjoyed stories of Gettysburg National Military Park, and hearing about the interactions between oil drilling and Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota. But when she took 10 different colored notebooks for her 10 day trip to Texas to fill with poetry that was just too much.
Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites by Chris Heimerdinger
Somehow I made it through childhood without reading one of the "classics" of Mormon young adult fiction. Though fully aware of the Tennis Shoes franchise, I didn't really know anything about it, so when a copy made it to our house from some friends who were moving and unloading stuff, I picked it up from a mixture of boredom and research as to whether Julia would like it. Basically, two kids find a secret worm hole that drops them off right in the middle of the book of Alma. And of course a little sister is tagging along for good measure. They have adventures with the Nephite armies and eventually make their way home. The more troublesome of the two kids turns his life around and everything gets wrapped up with a nice bow. What can I say, it's a book for 11 year olds. Also, I always figured the Tennis Shoes would somehow be mentioned a little bit more or something, but I was wrong. The book could just as easily been named Blonde Kids Among the Nephites.
A Mathematician Reads the Newspaper by John Allen Paulos
I heard about this book years ago, but knew nothing other than the title and put it on my 'to read' list. Where it sat for the better part of a decade because the library didn't have a copy. After years of waiting, it wasn't worth the wait. The book is a bunch of 1 to 4 page chapters that are musings about newspaper articles, but most of them don't really go anywhere. About the stock market the author points out that the stock market is pretty much random. About primary elections he notes that different voting methods will give different results. But these ideas never develop into anything more than "Hey, I want to tell you what I'm thinking right now." As I read this book, I found myself wishing it was more like a book named Innumeracy which I read years ago where that author talks about the problems associated with people who do not understand numbers. And then, I saw it right on the cover of the book I was reading: it's the same author! Read Innumeracy, skip this one.
The Cursed Child by J K Rowling, Jack Thorne and John Tiffany
Yes, it's a new book for the Potterverse, but it's not really a book, it's a play. And not really written by Rowling, but as a triumvirate of writers. Plays aren't meant to be read, but to be seen - but I read it anyway. It's 17 or so years post HP #7, and Harry has a son, Albus, who he doesn't relate well to, so of course Albus and his best friend (Malfoy Jr.) get into big trouble when they go back in time and mess up the space time continuum. Basically, they go back to the tri-wizard tournament but then Biff gets the Almanac and when they come back they end up in a different 1985 where gambling is legal, Ron and Hermione aren't married, and Albus and Malfoy Jr aren't friends. So they go back in time again to try and fix it, but then things are messed up worse and Voldemort is back and Hermione is married to Biff and lots of people don't exist anymore and the school teacher doesn't fall down the ravine! In the end, the world is, of course, set right, we all learn to believe in ourselves and we remember that when you have a flying Ford Anglia, where you're going you don't need roads.
The book/play reads a lot like fan fiction, and I would have rather had them write a new story than to go back in time to revisit the 'Under the Sea' dance, but it was still entertaining enough. The writing feels very sparse because it's a play so all you're reading is dialogue and a few stage directions.
Thursday, August 4
Running Nerd Returns
Neither sun, nor heat, nor humidity, nor more heat . . . .
July 2016 was the hottest month on record (that record being my running log) where I've dutifully recorded the temperature of nearly every run I've done in the last few years. Initially my main goal was to develop a calculator that would help me remember what to wear at what temperatures every fall when it starts to cool down. That was complete a few years ago, and at this point I think I could actually get along just fine without it - but it served its purpose.
But all this heat has got me thinking: can I blame the heat for being so slow? After a very nice prolonged drop in average pace, I've gotten slow in the last few months:
After a multi year trend of getting faster, that darn blue line is headed in the wrong direction. But, who is to blame? The pink bar, or the green line? Let's see what the data says . . .
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