Very necessary

My good friend introduced me to a site called culturegraph, self described as "accountants meet pop culture." Essentially, pop culture references are transformed into charts and graphs with very clever results. Here are a few of my favorites, but as I don't understand all of them, you should check it out on your own.

I'm always singing something in my head, and P and I often make puns using pop culture references, so I feel like I've been practicing for this type of exercise for years. Here's my first attempt:I also considered creating a mock math equation to read:

Hooker
--Fee
=======
Ho

The actual line goes, "The difference between a hooker and a ho ain't nothing but a fee." Figured that level of detail might be too obscure, though.

Both are from the same song. Can you guess the reference?

iPod iNclinations

I like to listen to my iPod using the shuffle songs feature. With over 7500 songs to choose from, I can get stuck in ruts and forget all the great stuff that is packed into this little magical device. I may have mentioned this in the past, but I am convinced my iPod prefers some artists over others.

I swear, it thinks. It has moods.

For example, I had to take a large amount of Led Zepplin off if it as iPod would always try to get me to listen to them. Once in while, sure. But not every other song...

Today, it is in love with Melissa Etheridge.

Wikicrastination

I am in the process of writing up an evaluation proposal at work. To get a reminder of the more technical terms for some qualitative research methods, I headed over to Wikipedia. I've come to use this site as an entry-level shortcut, when true depth of subject matter isn't required.

I searched the term "qualitative research," and one of the page editors had added the concept of coolhunting as a methodology. I was struck by this term, knowing it from William Gibson’s novel “Pattern Recognition,” so followed the link. Embedded in this page was the term “uncoolhunting” which I hadn’t yet heard, along with a suggested external link. I followed. The Uncoolhunter seemed like more of a blog, listing a few stories and stating their manifesto. One of the stories, dated 4/8, was about Leslie Hall, who I had seen on youtube a couple of years ago, showcasing the song “Gem Sweater” and other fantastically unfantastic ditties (one of which was clearly filmed in my former home of Jamaica Plain, MA). Turns out she has a mobile museum of the sweaters, along with a pretty fab photo gallery.

So I started at a genuine research question, and ended up at Gem Sweaters. All in the span of about 5 minutes.

And that is why I love Wikipedia.

Dolly in the house

I'm sitting at my desk, listening to HRH Dolly Parton. A lesser-known track entitled "Baby I'm Burning" just came on, which is a disco/pop-tinged ballad that played B-side to a more popular country-sounding tune titled "I Really Got the Feeling."

The A-side made it to #1 on the Billboard hot country singles in 1979. The B-side, which the record company called a second A-side if such a thing is possible, broke into the top 30 pop singles chart in 1979. There was even an extended dance mix released for play at your local discotheque. I've never heard that version.

Both evidence Dolly's ability to flow with the times, showcasing the keyboard as a central sound element, and foregoing any major guitar action. IRGTF also has some orchestration - truly, it could have been arranged by the same people who brought you "Believe it or Not," the theme song to "The Greatest American Hero."

Listen to them side by side - you'll see.

Anyhoo, near the beginning of the song, there is a line that goes:

"This red hot emotion/puts fireworks in motion/it looks like the fourth of July"

Followed by a falling cascade of keyboard notes. At the moment the keyboard kicked in, all of the papers tacked to my wall bew as if a great wind had blown.

Perhaps it was the fireworks in motion?

Dolly, are you planting some seeds of excitement for what is in store for May 5?

You spin me right round baby, right round

To follow up on my previous post, I haven’t done anything about the Nike+ sensor situation. I spoke with someone at a Nike store who said I’d likely get a positive response if I sent in a comment, but that inspiration has not hit me yet. I am liking the return to running sans gadgets.

So, it’s April 4th, and this morning it snowed in Manchester, NH. I have this memory of my birthday (which was about a week ago) being in warm weather. That hasn’t happened in years, yet still I hold on to that memory – which may have been one birthday for all I know – and expect that each year will be like that.

I shouldn’t really complain, as I did technically spend my birthday in the sun. We were in California, dividing a week between San Francisco, the PCH, and a brief stop in LA. It was a terrific trip, even if it made the return to our “spring” weather even more jarring…

Lately I’ve been checking out the spinning classes at my gym. It’s one of those things I’ve wanted to investigate for a while, but never made the time for in my day. Given the icky outdoor weather lately, I’ve been less inspired to run outdoors, giving me the perfect reason to get on the bike.

The first time I ventured in I tried the morning class. The leader was a nice guy, and did the appropriate amount of pushing-not-forcing for that early in the morning. However, did I mention that the class is at 6am? I consider myself a morning person and all, but 6am means waking up pre-6am, and that just wasn’t very pleasant.

So I switched to the evening class, and I’ve stuck with it. I’m looking to make it a regular habit, and as such I’ve formed some opinions on the sport and my evolution therein. For example: foregoing bike shorts is a mistake. Learned that one on the first time out… My poor bum.

The thought I kept returning to in the most recent class is the relativity of the 1-10 effort scale that we are instructed to follow. I don’t have it memorized, but it is, essentially:

1-5: Don’t bother even remembering what these mean, because classes never involve being in this zone.
6: Warm-up, some effort involved
7: More effort involved
8: Out of comfort zone. Quads on fire. Talk to self to keep going, and hope your neighbor can’t hear you.
9-10: Can’t continue.

Why is the “can’t continue” zone two numbers? If you can’t continue shouldn’t it just be that zone?

Also, pain is a very subjective thing. My 8 may be your 6, or vice versa. If I may speak as an Aries, I’m a bit competitive by nature, and loathe to admit – or even realize – that I may need to ease up. If I may speak as a girl who like to psychoanalyze herself, I know myself well enough to know that I am pretty terrible at admitting to physical weakness, a trait that has gotten me into trouble more than once. Not my best trait, but it’s how I’m wired.

Mind you, I keep going back. While it hurts, it’s a good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that makes me think I will be stronger for it. And it sure beats running in the April sleet.

Gadgets, gadgets everywhere, and nothing that will sync

It’s snowing again. Pretty and all, but I am now on the bus with people awaiting the arrival of more spring-like weather. However, given the white flakes falling down, I made my way over to the gym to get in a 4 mile run and some weights.

As I have mentioned in the past, I have become slightly addicted to my Nike+ sport kit, using it to track my miles and pace. Even on the days I don’t listen to music, I still tote along my Nano and use the Nike+ tools. For someone who is looking for basic tracking contrivances and not a lot of extra stuff, this setup really does work well.

However, I do need to lodge a complaint: the sensors suck.

This wasn’t always the case. My first shoe sensor was fantastic, lasting for just over a year. This seemed about right to me given my general weekly mileage (in the 15-20 mile range last year). The sport kit costs $30, and given all the running-related things one can spend money on (jackets and socks and shirts, oh my!), it was, arguably, a cheap investment. Heck, any large race will cost you 2x-3x as much.

But, as all electronic things go, it eventually died. This was in November 2007. I ran for a while without it, but missed the little guy and started thinking about when I’d get a replacement. Fast forward to December, when I discovered it was now possible to simply buy a shoe sensor, as opposed to a whole new kit. $20 instead of $30.

Bought one. The short version of the story: It never hooked up with my Nano. Picture me banging my foot, or just an empty shoe, around to try to get them to connect… After searching around for help and not finding any, I gave up/gave in and bought the whole kit again. $30.

The new sensor kit worked immediately, but showed up as a new user. Thus, any previous runs I’d logged were not accounted for, and any of the online challenges in which I’m involved didn’t count my miles. Mind you, I’m not really winning any of the challenges – as with my actual racing life, my online racing life is one of a middle of the pack runner – but I still want it to be known that I’m trying.

It took a while (end of December-ish), but finally I got the two users (i.e., me and me) to speak to one another. Yay! Back to the regularly scheduled program.

Now, only two months later, the sensor is toast. Less than 250 miles logged, and it’s done for. Let’s do the math… $20 for non-working sensor, $30 for short-lived sport kit = $50 of unhappy me. And Apple won’t take them back (although I’m not done with that part yet… I’m still pressing to get something for the poor product quality).

I am so frustrated with the situation, and possibly even more frustrated for letting the situation make me frustrated.

So, this morning, as I hit the treadmill, it was just me and some music. No sport kit. And I still ran four miles. And it still counted.

I think I’m reverting back to the GOFRL (good old fashioned running log). Runner’s World happened to send me one last week – I think as a thank you for my subscription oh, two years ago – and tonight I’ll log a few miles into it.

ain't nothing gonna break my stride...

How many running blogs have used that title? Allow me to be the latest one...

I headed out today for a 5 mile run. It was supposed to be 8, but I managed to whittle enough of the day away doing who knows what to pinch the amount of time I had for a relaxed run (i.e., not worrying about time) and shaved off a few. Perhaps that was a subconscious thing; I'm choosing to not read in to it too deeply.

It started off as a pretty eh run - I went out of the gate too fast, and started to feel the repercussions in the first two miles. My bad. I know better than to gun it at the start, particularly as I live in a rather hilly area, and on top of that I live at the top of the hill. Thus, the early part of most runs is heading downhill, and the last stretch is mostly uphill.

Good training for races, sure, but sometimes I think it would be nice to live in a flat area. Like Arizona. Here are topography maps for my standard paths:

My usual three mile route:




My usual five mile route:




My usual eight mile route:




It's like a really long, really slow roller coaster.

Today was the five mile path pictured above, and after allowing myself a bit of a walking interlude post starting too fast, I finished pretty strong. My ego was boosted a little when I realized that I was jogging my way all the way up the final stretch of hill. I realized that this was happening about half way through, and spent the rest of the time trying not to think about it too much, lest I start to wonder if I was fatigued and start to psych myself out.

Instead, I thought about the fact that I was hitting a stride (hence the blog entry title), and it felt good. The legs were going, the breathing was steady, and my body was relaxed. It's been a while since I have felt like a little machine moving along, a feeling I generally enjoy.

Given that my team is now officially registered for Reach the Beach (my credit card is on fire a little from laying out the hefty entry fee), I have started to think more seriously about the training involved. I have a few races planned, and even a teeny little triathlon for kicks. More on those another time. For now, I'm just happy that my body is starting to get back the muscle memory it had a year ago, and that I'm finding my stride again.