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1
Feb 17

An assortment of Wednesday things

Do you ever wonder where the days go? They start off bright, or dark, or overcast, as they do. And then you sit down to do some task, and then stand up to take care of an errand, or go over to handle a chore, and then the day is almost over.

Sometimes I am aware of the passage of time only because I realize how quickly it seems to be going. I need more windows in my life, I guess.

And, perhaps, naps.

I did a thing. IUS does a sports show and from that they’ve created a talk show, The Toss Up, which is usually pretty darn smart. And after they tape that show we sit around and talk about it, and a lot of great subtopics appear. One night I said, we should do an after-party. Just a live stream where you fill out the rest of the conversation. A more casual and funny thing. Now we only need a name.

And someone said, “The show is The Toss Up. At the end you say “Toss it up, see if we can catch it.”

Which led to The Catch:

That was the first one. Also, I threw the wadded up paper back into the shot at the end.

I also took a selfie in the reflection of the lens of the jib camera:

And after we were done with recording the show, and the after-show, we had some studio time left, so I grabbed a few people and we had a little anchor practice:

Before you know it, they’ll be off doing cool work. But for now, I stand there thinking “How cool is this, that you can do this? And how cool is it that, at 8:45 on a Wednesday night, you want to?”

This is a 1979 SI cover. Or an illustration on a poster. I found the real one online, I might have to pick it up:

And now, because it is 10 p.m. and I feel these things these days, I’ll probably go read myself to sleep.


30
Jan 17

Photos from the weekend

I crossed this creek just after mile two, when there was the coming promise of my calf loosening up and the mistaken belief I could stay warm. It felt like 20° when I started. Small ponds have a thin skin of ice on them. I ran 18 miles. I do not know what is happening.

It was right after this that I wrote this joke about the buzzards and hawks flying overhead It was a treatise on gallows humor, but I was only three miles into my run and that was a little too early for that sort of thing. Three is a warmup, I had 15 to go. Also, at the end, I got to track my miles. I’m doing a year-long challenge and the app says there are some 100,000 participants now. Look where I am:

Not bad for January.

I’d topped the penultimate hill right around 13.1 miles, which equaled the most I’d ever run. And I was close to home, but still had some ground to cover. So I went into a downhill stretch telling myself, over and over, to hold this pace. Hold this pace.

It wasn’t much, but it was jogging. Until the downhill became too steep, when I had to walk a bit on weary, unsteady legs. But I felt good because each step was a new record and I knew, I insisted, I was going to jog UP the last hill — a hill long and steep enough I can’t sprint its entirety on my bike — and there was no way I was cheating myself out of that. I was determined. Besides, by the time I reached that last hill I’d be about three miles from done and you can do anything for three miles.

So up that last hill I jogged, and I was then making bargains with myself, and building strategies to finish this thing. There were places to cut it short, but I was setting personal bests with each step and you don’t end that early. You can do anything for three miles. Which was an argument I began losing in mile 16. And then I couldn’t find my turn and it was cold and I’d been doing this, pretty badly mind you, but doing it, for hours. And then right at mile 17 I saw this and risked bending over for it.

This chunk of cheap molded plastic is the battleship from the board game of the same name and it was in the road at the church near the house. I could be inside in a quarter of a mile, and I wanted to be, because mile 15 was weary and slow and mile 16 might have been worse. But I had to run to 18. So I squeezed this plastic battleship in my double-gloved hand and said “I am running the last mile.”

And I did.

I wasn’t even especially sore the next day.

It snowed yesterday. We took Allie The Black Cat into the backyard:

She walked around on the deck. She prowled around on the handrail and snooped under the grill cover and slinked around in the yard a bit. She did this several times:


27
Jan 17

The last line in the song is “Ice to your blood, friends!”

We started a morning show today. Well, Lydia and Gabrielle did:

That opening is pretty great:

Fun fact, I used to do a morning show that used “Morning Mood,” which is a part of Opus 23 of Peer Gynt. And now there’s “In the Hall of the Mountain King.”

I wonder if they know the meaning of the song.

This was their first episode, so it’ll be interesting to see where they go with it. That’s always the challenge, grow something new. Three of the four other shows they are producing right now have been around before we all got here. Last term we launched The Toss Up, a sports talk show, out of thin air. And soon we’ll have a night show to go along with this morning show.

It is cool to see students producing work, creating new things. But to watch them start a new program from scratch, that’s particularly gratifying.

Today passed quickly. I spent no time in front of a computer today. There was a meeting and then that show and then another appointment and then a critique session and some other batch of errands and that was a full day. I sat in a parking lot and started reading the day’s news at the end of the day. That took almost all night. And, now, here we are.


26
Jan 17

Eatin’ with Ernie

There’s a place about three blocks from our building on campus that serves reasonably passable cajun food. Also, they have sweet tea. And it is quiet. And you can sit at a table with Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin. Or you can dine while looking out on …

Which goes nicely with my old line about dining with whomever you are reading, or reading about. So, today, I had lunch with Ernie Pyle in Paris.

Which, hey, the wind chills in both places were the same today. But I bet Parisians didn’t get flurried on during their walks back to the office after lunch.

Ernie walked on these paths as a student almost 100 years ago now. I wonder what he’d think of what he could see here today.

Sports show the students shot tonight:


25
Jan 17

A shivery run

Early night at the office tonight, so we jogged around campus. This was just a little more than three miles into the run.

We ran eight miles in all. I ran negative splits over the last three. The Yankee tells me this is good.

Must have been because the sun was down and it was 37 degrees by then.

So I’ve learned two things. First, training for a long run in the winter makes you faster. Second, if you have to train for a long run in the winter, don’t.