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25
Feb 19

Hittin’ my stride

There I was, trying to do a duckface after a 10K … It snowed in the morning, but was sunny all afternoon. The wind was this series of ridiculous, swirling gusts. At one point, in a distance of less than 50 yards, I got 20-30 mile per hour winds from three different directions. Serious wind. So there I was, at the end of this little run, trying to make a duckface …

“Hey! You’re getting in the way of me trying to make a duck face so I can put that over Greek mythology jokes on social media!”

This evening was a speed workout. I don’t think I go any faster during it, and I have seen no cumulative effects. Not that I expect any, but still. It’s my second least favorite run. The Yankee is getting faster because of them. This is having a negative effect on me. Do you know how hard I have to work to get far ahead of her?

I need to be that far ahead so I can get my phone ready to shoot video. And I have to do that several times so I can make a little video project:

I’m telling you, she’s really benefiting from those speed workouts. Me, not so much.

Elsewhere, still more people who are better at athletic things than I am!

They said she wasn’t even trying to do much here, either, which is mind-boggling, and more than a little intimidating.

She’s looking to nationals, you see. So that, to the two-time gold medalist, is taking it easy. Unreal.



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20
Feb 19

Free lunches taste better

Had lunch here on a gift card thanks to the kindness of a colleague.

I had the chance to use a little Spanish and a few of the phrases I remember from German and Italian as well, and all for no particular reason. Top that, rest of the day.

The rest of the day could not top that. It tried, of course. It was a game effort, but really.

I ran a 10K this evening. It was chilly, sure, but not so cold that I could stay inside:

Probably I was just after this:

Not that I can talk about mileage …

A television show the students shot last night:


19
Feb 19

You, too, can be a dance hall DJ

I promised you Presidents Hall yesterday. Here is Presidents Hall:

And the view from the front of the room:

Eighteen presidential portraits are on the walls. There’s enough room for a few more presidents. I wonder what they’ll do in 20 or 40 years when they run out of wall space. Anyway, all manner of events — learned expert presentations, luncheons, weddings and, this spring, the nursing school will have graduation ceremonies in there.

Some videos our students are making. This is a late night show. Dry, college humor, unaware central player. It’s a classic formula:

And when you are finished with the season premiere of Not Too Late, there’s also the most recent episode of the Bloomington Breakfast Club. You, too, can learn how to be a DJ:

The setup seemed the hardest part. It was a substantial load-in. And, she said, she spends almost all of her time and money in record stores. Right after tearing her gear down after this interview the DJ, who is a local, was leaving town for a cruise with Kesha. No big deal.

I wish I was going on a cruise. Tampa to the Bahamas in February? That’s not the worst choice one could make.


18
Feb 19

Happy Presidents Day

I had a whole post here, and the computer, or WordPress or the ‘net ate it somehow. I had a Presidents Day joke and everything. So this will be brief and, probably, better. We have a Presidents Hall in our building at work. It is for university presidents, and when you run this place one day, you, too, can have a painting on the wall.

Today it is a giant banquet hall, more square footage than our house. It was once the grand reading room when our building was the university’s library, until 1969 or so. After that our building served in an administrative capacity and the grand reading room it became a testament to modern 1970s office innovation: cubicles.

Saturday, I was at work, this is our “living room.”

I didn’t go into Presidents Hall at all, Saturday or today. I’ll show it to you sometime. Saturday, though, was Direct Admit Day. Some of the fall term’s incoming freshmen sat in our giant “living room.” I put this on Twitter and …

Someone forgot I work here? To be fair, you never know who is running a group account. Maybe they didn’t read my Twitter bio. Or maybe someone thought all of the pre-frosh followed my account. At least there was a retweet. That’s about the extent of it.

Also this chilly weekend:

Today:




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15
Feb 19

It goes to four — going to 11 would squish you

So The Yankee got herself a present. (But she also says it is for us. And she did make way so that I could try it, but that ruins the joke of it.) Some 18 months or so after I got her a lower leg manual air compression recovery system she upgraded to a full-legged, machine operated, automatic, systematic, hydromatic, greased lightning recovery system.

She says, “If you need me … you don’t. I’m busy and I’m never leaving this chair.”

But, “I got them for us. We can share,” she said.

That was just after “Would you bring me all the things I need to conduct my life from here?”

But we can both use it, you see. I did get to get it a try. These are my legs:

There are four zones: quads, knees, calves and feet. At first, I did’t think my quads would allow the things to inflate properly, but the calves and the feet segments are impressive. And my knees! That probably isn’t supposed to feel as nice as it did, but it did. There is a small series of programmable choices you can make within the system, and then within the zones you have a choice between four compression levels. Level one is a nice firm embrace. Level four is like a blood pressure cuff applied by an over-anxious nurse on the first day of the job.

I started out with the third level, and was suitably impressed. Risk taker that I am, from the comfort of my own reclining chair in the living room, I bumped that miracle of modern psychotherapeutic and muscular medicine up to four, the highest level, whereby I was sent back in time to the War of 1812.

And I had a bear of a time getting back. It was very difficult to find outlets to plug this device into in 1812, let me tell you.

But, while I was there, I got to try level four. On my feet, you could feel the bones being moved together, which was a curious sensation. It felt nice on the knees, and it was noticeable on my quads. I have large thigh muscles, so I was skeptical, and I was right on that point. But on the calves, you better not be claustrophobic, have nightmares about being crushed or the general state of electrical research in the early 19th century. Oh it’s great fun, or nanty narking, as they said back there in that part of the Victorian Age. But if you want to go all the way up to level four on your calves, you better come mentally prepared.

And it was at this point when I thought, you know, I might not be wearing these boots just right. So a few adjustments were made. And then I could feel it, in the right position these things properly inflated in the quads. It was then that I sent away for all of the things I need to conduct my life from that spot.

I only left to go see this in the studio this morning: