Sporting Life 10K post-mortem

So, I actually succeeded in meeting my Sporting Life 10K goal, stumbling past the finish line in just under one hour. However, my elation ended when records revealed that this was my slowest Sporting Life 10K ever.

Otherwise, the race was a good experience with ideal weather conditions (16C and overcast) and staggered start times, which prevented the congestion that plagued previous events. If only the event organizers would improve the look of their dri-fit t-shirts.

The short-lived afterglow smothered by disappointment has, in turn, been consumed by a nagging need to prove myself. The Toronto Challenge 5K is a favourite of mine because, at $20, it is so affordable. My personal best on the course is also my fastest 5K finishing time: 24:20. I will attempt to beat this time on June 13, 2010. As in a mid-life crisis, the fitting response to a new low is an outrageous new high.

10K training update + Okay Okay Diner

Activities over the last five weeks suggest that I've lost that hunger to beat a predetermined race finishing time and beat my body into submission in the process.

I have run about twice a week for the last five weeks, but the runs have been sloppy affairs; 30 minutes here, 8 km there, mostly by myself but occasionally accompanied by a disgusted Joe. I finally went for a run with a group of over-athletic overachievers last Thursday, during which my eyes roamed desperately for a red light. The only person who approves of my floundering is Flocons, who is pleased to find a fellow advocate for pit-stops at fast food chains along the route.

Traditionally, I have not done well in the Sporting Life 10K, in spite of the downhill course, because I tend to train poorly over the winter. In light of my history, prior and recent, I will be very happy to finish the Sporting Life 10K in one hour. In anticipation of disappointment, I am going to look forward to the next race. Which one to do next?

Hunger had nothing to do with my experience of the latest stop on my Leslieville culinary journey.

Okay Okay Diner (1128 Queen St. E.)
Their pancakes were amazing: fluffy but with substance and packed with flavour. Hence, shoving the flapjacks into my cake hole at record speed was no chore, as my lunch companion and I attempted to eat our way out of the freezing patio as quickly as possible. Still, I wish the pancakes came with some sort of accompaniment like fruit or vegetables, even if it would have prolonged our suffering.

Running eastward and eating westward

My very first run since July 2009 was a 5K commute to my weekly class at the National Ballet School. With a concrete finishing time, I ran 2/3 of the way before running out of steam and dragging myself with purpose the rest of the way. My cramping feet made me more awkward than usual during class, but my classmates gave me and my sweat drenched clothing wide berth.

It took me three days to recover from that first training run but, soon, Joe was using my runs as an excuse to explore The Beaches, a neighbourhood that I usually avoid for fear of being abducted by locals and forced to work as an au pair. The area is actually quite charming at night, in the absence of double strollers being pushed by coloured nannies. I never noticed the Fox Theatre before and will definitely make it a pitstop on a future date night.

When we're not stumbling eastward, Joe and I chomp our way west along the Queen East culinary strip. I will record our gastronomic experiences periodically on this blog. The journey so far:

Edward Levesque's Kitchen (1288 Queen Street East)
I mistook this place for a diner because their kitchen is on full display at the front of the establishment. Hence, it was only after we had asked to be seated that I realized our paint stained clothing was not appropriate for the venue. Our attire was paired with loud and inappropriate comments on my part that were politely ignored by neighbouring patrons. Unfortunately, I don't remember much about the food itself except that it was tasty though not a revelation, and surprisingly filling for the portion size. I welcome my dining companion, Fiona to elaborate on the culinary merits of the restaurant, and, hopefully, not my social faux pas.

The Friendly Thai (1218 Queen Street East)
One of the more stylish branches of the restaurant chain that provides Torontonians with a dependably tasty source of Thai food. Joe had a noodle dish and I had the Vegetable Green Curry. Both of us went running for the washroom at Canadian Tire about an hour later.

The Leslieville Diner (1168 Queen Street East)
This was the consolation prize after we discovered that The Ceili Cottage was closed until 12pm on a Sunday(!). The place appeared to be run by a Quebecois family, as evidenced by their accents and the Habs posters on the wall. It was also a magnet for customers who speak French, wear Hab caps or Quebec flag t-shirts, which was representative of four neighbouring tables. The service was good but the brunch was rather pedestrian. Unfortunately, this was no Lady Marmalade (see previous review).

From zero to 10 in six weeks

In a previous post, I had promised to sign up for the Mississauga Marathon 10K as a rally in the battle of the bulge. Since that bold public statement, I have not only failed to register and run, but I gained weight when the stress of preparing the new house and moving made me turn to bad food for comfort.

Fortunately, opportunity knocked twice:

1. Flocons invited me to join him in running the Sporting Life 10K, a terrible race with too many participants but a rapidly descending course that will make everyone's times better than they should be.
2. The current issue of Runner's World has been deemed the "Weight Loss Issue," an enticement that instantly had me reaching for my wallet. The magazine includes an 10K training plan that requires a mere three runs per week for six weeks.
   

Coincidentally, the Sporting Life 10K takes place in roughly six weeks. I will take this as a sign that I am destined for a showdown with myself on May 2.

The last time I drastically increased my running distance within a week, I was shocked by my drained complexion and suffered an increased susceptibility to colds and other annoying illnesses. "Running is supposed to make me healthier," I moaned.

This prior run-in with the hazards of over-training has not deterred me from becoming excited at the prospect of punishing myself over the next six weeks. A cautionary tale of how not to train, to come.

Public shame in place of self control - Part 2

The results of the "How should I punish myself?" poll are as follows:

Harry's Spring Run Off 5K (April 3) 25%
Mississauga Marathon 5K (May 15) 25%
Toronto Women's 5K (May 30) 25%
Toronto Women's Half Marathon (May 30) 25%

Gee, thanks.

Equally fruitless were the comments that alternated between responders prodding their own fat or encouraging me to maintain the status quo.

So, I'm going with none of the above and signing up for the Mississauga Marathon 10K on May 15. It starts at 6:30pm, which is a bonus for me because I am not a morning person. For now, I predict that I will finish in under an hour, but I may aim for a more competitive time if shamed into doing so. Training kvetching to come. Stay tuned!

Public shame in place of self control

Ever since the new year, I have been struggling to get back into a healthy exercise routine. As much as I enjoy looking passable in a bikini, the fact is that I don't spend a lot of time scantily clad in public. Winter clothes are heavy enough to smooth over fat rolls, feeding into my illusion that everything is okay while I am busy feeding my chocolate craving.

But, everything is not okay, and it's time for an intervention. Public shame will compel me to exercise because the pleasure of working out does not provide enough incentive.

I'm going to sign up for a running event, publicly state what time I expect to finish in, then kill myself to meet expectations. For me, the stick has always worked better than the carrot.

Interventions require a circle of friends to smother the target with caring. I invite you to vote in the poll on the right as to which race I should register for. Help push my soft junk back on the wagon.

Two marathons, one city

City bureaucrats, who probably do not run, have decided that Toronto needs only one marathon event a year and organizers will have to bid for that right as of 2011.

Having run both the Toronto Waterfront Marathon and the Toronto Marathon (half-marathon), I have plenty of opinions to share but I'll try to keep it succinct.

• The Toronto Marathon may have come first and possess a heart-warming mandate of being "grassroots" but the Toronto Waterfront Marathon is just a more exciting event. There is nothing exclusionary about the Toronto Waterfront Marathon hosting elite runners; if anything, seeing the elites fly by is motivational for tortoises like me.
  
• The Toronto Waterfront Marathon is better situated on the calendar. In the years that I have run the event, late September has consistently offered perfect racing weather. In contrast, I have been deterred from running The Toronto Marathon due to its October timing, and the two times that I have run the event, I struggled with the freezing temperatures.
  
• I would love for Toronto to continue hosting two marathons, with the Toronto Marathon moving to the spring, but if I had to choose one, my past actions make the decision easy: my money has gone repeatedly towards registering for the Toronto Waterfront Marathon.
  

Canada Day drink and run

With the success of the Run for Liqueur last Canada Day, I decided to hold another beer mile. However, after our donation resulted in the Canadian Liver Foundation selling my information, I decided that the recipient of funds raised this year would be Vicki's Weekend to End Breast Cancer bid.

The 2009 Run for Liqueur was muted in comparison to last year's event, perhaps because most of the competitors still shuddered at the memory. Ignorance was bliss for first-time competitor, Attila, who completed his first lap before anyone else had even finished their first drink. However, by his third drink, Attila was slumped on the ground, because lying on his back made his discomfort worst.

My choice of chocolate soy milk over last year's chocolate dairy milk was only an improvement in the aftermath of the event as my suffering was shortlived but resulted in my disqualification. Joe's choice of Corona and Sleeman's proved to be less successful than last year's screwdrivers. Only Roger took a different strategy in his stubborn adherence to Grasshopper despite last year's disappointing results, and while his time did not improve, his overall ranking did. Ultimately, the only competitor who improved his overall time and ranking was Mike, who credits his nationalistic choice of Molson Canadian for his win.

It is questionable whether I will run another beer mile. In an event where the Masters level starts at 30 years of age, when most running events define Masters as being over 40, I feel that retirement may not be premature. However, I must admit that I am curious to see if a third drink choice will contribute to improved results. Until next Canada Day...

Drinking and stumbling

This past weekend, I ran my first race since the Las Vegas Half-Marathon back in December and it was in keeping with my new, lackadaisical attitude towards running. The inaugural Twenty Valley Niagara Wine Country Run offered 21km, 10km and 4km distances and featured wine tasting stations roughly every 2 kms. I was thrilled to have an facsimile of the Marathon du Médoc offered so close to home.

The race atmosphere was the most relaxed that I have ever experienced. Despite claims to the contrary, personal bests are important to racers and competitive posturing is rampant before the gun goes off. Yet, none of the runners that I saw carried gels nor other nutritional supplements and few exhibited quiet intensity at the start line, since the savouring of alcohol already dictated less than ideal racing conditions. Runners joked about boarding the "elite runner's shuttle bus" and asked for recommendations on which wine went well with Gatorade. The route's scenic rolling hills prompted many runners to simply walk the inclines, especially after leaving a wine tasting station.

The only complaint that I have about the race was the time of day that it took place. Since alcohol cannot be legally served before 11am, all races started at roughly that time. Much of the route was unshaded and it was a hard run under the midday sun with alcohol sloshing in the system. My personal preference would be for the race to be scheduled in the evening, though that may be too much of an inconvenience from organizational and marketing points of view.

The night before the run, we stayed at Silver Birches by-the-Lake Bed and Breakfast. Besides being conveniently located, the hospitality was superb and the amenities demonstrated owners, Paul and Leah Padfield's attention to detail. One benefit of the late race start was that it allowed us the leisure to enjoy the hearty breakfast, which is not normally recommended before a race but provided a good foundation for the wine sampling to come.

Definitely a very enjoyable weekend of bacchanalian athleticism.

Sucker for punishment

This past weekend, I watched Flocons participate in the Milton Try-a-Tri, as part of his quest to get fit or die trying. As I watched Flocons and the other competitors flop around like salmon during spawning season, followed by public disrobing, then some random silliness (ie running with a bike helmet on), I thought to myself, "This sport is becoming increasingly attractive..."

I have not participated in a running event yet this year, partly because I do not enjoy running in freezing temperatures, but also because running has become routine. However, with the injection of biking and the threat of drowning, perhaps my will to exercise will be revived.

To test this theory, I have signed up for the Toronto Island Give-It-A-Tri along with Flocons. We will try to support each other over the next 10 weeks of training. If our swimming does not improve by August 15, we will literally support each other as makeshift floatation devices. For once, I can honestly say that I am aiming to finish.

Viva Las Vegas

Fed up with running in the dark, cold Toronto winter, I signed up for the Las Vegas Half-Marathon (December 7, 2008) in a bid to take advantage of my training for the Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon (September 28, 2008). It turns out that I had overestimated my will to train over the two months that separate the events but the latter race was an excuse to go to Las Vegas so all was not lost.

Our trip to Las Vegas showed signs of being auspicious when we walked past George Stroumboulopoulos at Pearson Airport. The surreal sight of tiny George carrying his home on his back was matched only by the guy doing yoga in the waiting area of our departure gate. Yoga guy gave the exercise a bad name with his weak extensions and socks like swiss cheese. Eventually, he ceased embarrassing yogis everywhere by stopping to buy himself a hamburger.

After a plane ride during which passengers decided to start the party early by acting half their age, we arrived in Las Vegas to find ourselves surrounded by cowboys: the National Finals Rodeo was in town (December 4-13, 2008). One would think that participants in the upcoming marathon would be harder to identify than rodeo enthusiasts but it turns out that runners wear a uniform, too. Attendees of the Quality of Life Expo, where racers pick up their race packs, wore their running shoes, and even their technical t-shirts and shorts in order to, literally, run into the convention centre. It was as if runners were incapable of putting on any pedestrian outfit that would not allow them to exercise their cardio at a moment's notice.

Joe and I were not slaves to our running gear and we proceeded to punish our arches by walking in fashion shoes for eight hours a day during the first two days of our trip. As usual, we were driven by our slavish need to see everything, and on the second day, our need to exercise our rights as consumers at the Las Vegas Premium Outlets. Among the amazing deals that we could not pass up:

• Calvin Klein Merino Sweaters - originally $59.99, reduced to $26.99

• Armani Exchange Shirt Dress - originally $120.00, reduced to $49.00

• Theory Melinda Patent Leather Flat Shoes - originally $295.00, reduced to $59.00

• Polo Ralph Lauren Cashmere Blend Peacoat - originally $425.00, reduced to $69.99

We arrived at Premium Outlets at 10am and expected to be finished by early afternoon. We left feeling a mix of delight and dismay at 5pm. As we watched the sun set from the outlet mall's taxi queue, Joe exclaimed, "I can't believe we spent the whole day here." The couple in front of us chimed in with their own disbelief and we soon discovered that we were flanked by Canadians, or more specifically, Albertans - two parties in front and one couple behind us. We ended up sharing a cab with the couple who were also in Las Vegas for the half-marathon, and not for the rodeo as one might assume of visitors from Canada's Lone Star province.

The Albertans were the ones to warn us to allot at least 30 minutes to arrive at the start line of the race, and not the 15 minutes that I had planned. It turned out to be good advice as the race corral was a mess. Runners were simply divided into two categories: elite and everyone else, which meant that marathon runners, half-marathon runners, walkers, wheel chair racers, and baby joggers all ran circles around each other in a bid for room. With a whopping 13,000 participants, there were bound to be people who were not familiar with running etiquette. Sure enough, some racers recreated their version of local attraction, the Hoover Dam by walking in the middle of the race course, companionably side by side, forcing runners to dash around them or wait patiently for a fissure in the wall to break through.

However, the frustration of dealing with race neophytes was easy to ignore in the first 10km with the spectacle of the start line fire works, Robin Leach, and the fully lit Vegas Strip to distract us. And by the time the race route wove through desolate downtown Las Vegas in the second half of the half-marathon course, slower racers had fallen away allowing runners an unobstructed view of the seedy motel apartments and their listless occupants.

During the race, the temperature was an ideal 5C with only a moderate breeze and an overcast sky. The only fly in the ointment was the dryness of the desert, which remained even in the absence of any heat. It amazed me to see the line up for the porto-potties along the route since it took a few hours after the end of the race before I even heard nature's call.

Before the run, Joe and I had already begun indulging ourselves with two McDonald's meals in a row and this continued with a crusade to In-N-Out Burger the day after the race. Although the In-N-Out Burger was located well within walking distance, it was a challenge to cross a passive aggressive freeway overpass that forced pedestrians down serpentine walkways under bridges or mislead them onto disappearing sidewalks, in order to reach the fast food outlet. In the end, it was worth it because In-N-Out Burger is simply amazing.

With the exception of shopping and fast food, Joe and I failed to take advantage of other Las Vegas past times like drinking alcohol in public places (in my case, not at all) or gambling (we lost $20). One Las Vegas staple that we managed to score cheap tickets for was Cirque de Soleil's KÀ. We had high hopes for the show but were ultimately disappointed by the overly convoluted production and the uncharitable show producers.

Robert LePage, the show's creator, is reknowned for his technically clever theatre productions but his stage mechanics overshadow the human performers of KÀ. In fact, the only moments during which KÀ succeeded in mesmerizing us were when the skill of the performers was the sole feature on stage: a pas de deux of hand shadow puppets, a solo performance using a pair of batons, and the circus classic, the Wheel of Death. Technical difficulties caused a whole act to loop for what seemed like an eternity before grinding to a halt when it became clear to the performers that they could not stall any longer. The audience were encouraged to go out for intermission while the crew attempted to fix the convoluted equipment and when the show reconvened, a new scene began without explanation. The audience had clapped in support of the performers before the intermission, but, by the end of the show, the applause was less enthusiastic. There was no offer by the management of a partial refund or a rain check for another showing.

On our last day, we were lucky enough to catch the re-launch of the Mirage Volcano. We arrived early enough to position ourselves behind a short couple and therefore, had a nearly unobstructed view of the new volcano, featuring more explosive 'lava', a frantic drum soundtrack, and unexplainable dancing flames shooting out from the water. When the volcano's encore performance came shortly afterwards, Joe and I were lucky enough to be standing on the road median and therefore had a long view of the fireworks (photo seen above).

Leaving Las Vegas meant traveling with a crowd similar to the yahoos that we traveled to Las Vegas with and, of course, another celebrity sighting. Mike "Pinball" Clemons arrived in Las Vegas just as we were departing, and was chased down by the most stereotypical team of Canadian football players: the non-stop talker, the strip club patron, the guy who just got engaged with his longtime girlfriend, who tagged along for the trip but was kept at arm's length by the other guys because she did not look like Tila Tequila. As luck would have it, Joe and I were seated directly in front of the motor mouth and some of his friends. We feared a red eye descent into hell when one stewardess engaged in the most psychotic safety demonstration I have ever seen, to the hoots and hollers of the football players. Fortunately for Joe and me, the immaturity of the football team encompassed a childlike predisposition to pass out once the lights are turned down. We returned to Toronto, grateful that the cold weather culls the local population of roaming, drunken frat boys and overly ripe women teetering on stiletto heels.

Better luck next time, fatty

The weather conditions were ideal last Sunday during the Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon and I set a personal course record. Yet, it was not one of my better race experiences. From the 3 kilometer mark onwards, I fought the desire to throw myself under a passing emergency vehicle. After grinding through the remaining 18km, Kenneth Mungara of Kenya (seen above) stole my thunder by finishing his marathon at the same time as me. All cheers and cameras were directed at him, as I pouted nearby.

However, I know that Kenneth Mungara understands how I feel because his win was probably overshadowed by Ethiopian elite marathoner, Haile Gebreselassie's smashing of his own world record that same day. Gebreselassie won the Berlin Marathon in 2:03:59, shaving 27 seconds from the previous record. Mungara's 2:11:00 finish seems like a snail's pace in comparison.

I'll be running the Las Vegas Half-Marathon in December and I now have a goal: I will beat the marathon winner. Hopefully, Mungara will be in the race; I would love to return the favour by stealing that jerk's thunder.

I'm kidding!

No great white hope for Runner's World

Just based on the cover alone, you might suspect Runner's World of having a thing for attractive, white models. After subscribing to the magazine for two years, I can attest to having seen only two cover models of colour: Olympic marathoner, Meb Keflezighi and triathlete, Lokelani McMichael. McMichael appeared twice but is half Scottish so I guess that still counts as one occurrence.

RW's white bias could be shrugged off as superficial if it did not also affect their editorial content. The magazine frequently focuses on born and bred white Americans runners that will put "American distance running back on the map" (oft cited with brave optimism by RW writers): Alan Webb, Galen Rupp, Ryan Hall, and Alan Culpepper - Eritrea-born Meb Keflezighi is the lone exception. It would appear that the editors of RW are still pining for the days of Steve Prefontaine, America's last great white running hope.

To their credit, RW's feature article on Meb Keflezighi focused on the disconnect many Americans feel towards Keflezighi because of his immigrant status. Keflezighi has had to continually prove his love for the American flag and defend his ties to Eritrea, which he left in the midst of a war. Yet, for all the support that RW puts behind Keflezighi, it is as if there is not enough to go round to other American runners with stories similar to Keflezighi. Keflezighi is the U.S. distance running field's Naomi Campbell - the poster child for racial balance in the industry.

In recent issues, the magazine has focused on Beijing contenders including Kara and Adam Goucher, and Gabe Jennings. With the exception of Kara Goucher, the magazine's spotlights were misdirected: Adam Goucher and Jennings failed to make it onto the U.S. Olympic Team, as did RW favourites Alan Webb, Meb Keflezighi and an injured Alan Culpepper.

In the competitive 1500m field, three immigrants will represent the U.S.: Kenya-born Bernard Lagat, Mexico-born Leonel Manzano and Sudanese refugee, Lopez Lomong. Bernard Lagat, an undeniable force in the 1500m distance, was profiled by RW but the other two runners have been virtually ignored by RW.

Ryan Hall and Galen Rupp recently earned their places on the U.S. Olympic Track & Field roster. It will interesting to see how RW, and its American readership, will distribute their hopes and dreams between two of their favoured sons versus the athletes who have chosen to carry the American flag without fanfare.

Nationalism, sports and caring

This Canada Day, there will be no rest for the athletic and the charitable. Who needs BBQ and fireworks when you can run to raise funds...then run some more!

At 8am, we will take part in the HBC Run For Canada. It is a fundraiser for Canadian athletes as well as publicity for HBC's line of official Beijing 2008 merchandise. I must admit that I was going to skip the run until I saw the shirt and finisher's medal - both Beijing inspired.

Flocons and I have discussed reenacting an encounter between a Beijing supporter and a Tibetan activist on the 10K course, but we fear that event organizers will crush us both in the process. Instead, we will have to stick to something that will give HBC pause, like 'Free Stephen Harper'.

Later in the day, after lining our stomachs with food and maybe napping under a maple tree, we will continue the theme of running and caring. With the goal of raising money for the Canadian Liver Foundation, we will hold a beer mile. Competitors will run a mile and drink four beers in the process. To open up the competition to pregnant women and pansies, chocolate milk has been offered as an alternate choice.

Participants and spectators will be asked to donate $5 and, in return, they'll get a nice drinking glass - schwag just like a real charity event. We even have a name for the run, which I hesitate to give for fear of incurring the wrath of the pink brigade. Let's just say that it is like a popular pink brigade fundraising event but with 'Liqueur' in place of 'the Cure'. Think about it.

I have high hopes for our beer mile because it has already provoked strong feelings of either support or revulsion. One non-attendee has pointed out that drinking in public is illegal where we live. I scoff since we will probably be arrested for trespassing on school property before the cops smell the alcohol on our breath.

Results of our beer mile to come! Happy Canada Day!

Top Ten Things I Remember from 2006

This was going to be a top ten list of world events in 2006 but then I realized that the only way I was going to remember news items before December was to look it up on Wikipedia. In which case, you might as well visit Wikipedia's 2006 entry and read it for yourself.

Instead, I present to you a sad testament to my shoddy memory: Top Ten Things I Remember from 2006.

1. Belinda Stronach is a wild party.
Belinda had already created a national soap opera in 2005 when she defected from the Conservative party and jilted Peter McKay in one fell swoop. Belinda did not disappoint in 2006 when her relationship with married hockey thug, Tie Domi, was revealed in court papers. Then there was the continuing sage with Peter McKay where he allegedly referred to Belinda as a dog in the House of Commons. Oh, Belinda! Will you ever stop?

2. Comic Con and California
One experience burned into my memory that I did not recall in my previous blog entries was an encounter with some shirtless hicks in the parking lot of Mission Beach. They were wedged in a tiny car with the windows open about two car spots down from where we were parked when they tried to make vaguely hostile small talk with us:
Hick: How are you doing?
(Unsure he is speaking to us or a guy passing by, we ignore him)
Hick: DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?
Me: Yes, we do.
Hick: Then why didn't you talk to us?
Me: I wasn't sure you were speaking to us or that guy that just passed.
Hick: How are you enjoying yourselves?
Me: We are enjoying ourselves, thanks.
Hick: Have a nice day.
Me: Thanks. You, too.
It should be noted that neither of the hicks smiled the whole time and that last exchange felt like a cop warning with the subliminal message of "God speed thee through Texas before the Klan finds you." Shortly thereafter, Joe and Alex made the wise suggestion of parking somewhere else, even though our original intention was simply to drop stuff off in the car.
For more of my California adventures, see here and here.

3. Tobogganing on New Year's Day
2006 became the year that many of my friends became more like the career-oriented, sleep deprived adults that Toronto culture encourages you to become. However, before all that, a group of us went tobogganing at High Park. I miss engaging in silly group activities.

4. Art and real life
2006 brought a number of art shows that I treated as party opportunities for my friends, but in the end, art and parties don't pay. While doing a craft show, I discussed this with a former teacher, a man who lives frugally in the bush of Northern Ontario.
Me: "I don't want to do art for profit. I'm thinking of doing it on the side so that I'm not compromised by the bottom line. You know, like a Sunday painter."
Him: "Never call yourself that! Don't ever use that term! No person or gallery will ever take you seriously."
So, as of Fall 2006, I have been on "sabbatical" and I'll be returning to art work "on the side" in 2007.

5. Part Time Work
I have worked part-time for all of 2006: intially to support an art career, later on, because I could not find a full time job. While the idea of being viewed as a slacker grates me, part-time work has not been all bad. I have been able to meet up with friends during their lunch hour, visit my cousin who is currently on maternity leave, do chores on weekdays thus leaving my weekends free, run and read. It's not a bad existence if you can afford the financial constraints and the snippy comments from envious friends.

6. Running a Marathon
Plenty of time to run meant a perfect reason to tackle a marathon. The long training schedule was frustrating but on one of my longest runs (32km), I felt like a machine. Everyone should experience what it feels like to be able run for hours, if only so they know what to aim for when exercising rather than an unrealistic body image.

7. UFC
Ultimate Fighting Championship became a source of entertainment for me and Joe in 2006. The real violence and accompanying commentary from the couch by our friend, Heny, who hails from the bars of Hamilton (enough said), made for a guilty pleasure. We are looking forward to the hot man-on-man action of Liddell vs Ortiz on December 30! Let's get it on!

8. Older = Hotter
I saw Depeche Mode in concert in 2006 and Dave Gahan has never looked better with his shirt off at 44 years of age! It became a year of noticing hot older men on display: George Clooney (45), Daniel Craig (38), Brad Pitt (43). As usual, hot older women were not as prominent but after watching Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, and Nicole Ritchie in action in 2006, women like Salma Hayek (40), Sophia Loren (72), Halle Berry (40), Gong Li (41), and Judi Dench (72) became the definition of sexy. Yes, Judi Dench - see her in Casino Royale and tell me there isn't sizzling sexual chemistry between her and Daniel Craig.

9. Borat
I first heard about Borat in the spring, saw snippets of the movie at Comic Con in the middle of summer, then finally saw the movie in the fall. Sadly, I overhyped it for myself but some things never grow old; like the video of Borat singing Whitney Houston's "The Greatest Love of All" surrounded by winsome, young girls, before a sudden segway into Color Me Badd's "I Want to Sex You Up" while the girls around him strip down and dance in front of a screen that flashes words like 'Sexy Time' and 'Prophylactic'. Sadly, this magical video has been removed from YouTube, which became a corporate whore in 2006.

10. Baby time
My peers have started procreating and this prompted introspective thought as to whether I, too, want to breed. I have decided to put off the decision for one more year and make 2007 the year I live dangerously! Then, in 2008, I will find out if I am barren.

Onwards and upwards!

Good news! No one died

The 2006 Toronto Marathon took place today and no runner from Oakville or anywhere else died. It seems that the Toronto Waterfront Marathon already fulfilled the marathon body count for the year.

I ran the Half-Marathon and found it thoroughly enjoyable but could see why the Toronto Marathon is the neglected, plain sibling to the Toronto Waterfront Marathon.

1. The date - The Toronto Marathon usually takes place in mid-October whereas the Waterfront Marathon happens in late September. In a mere three weeks, the weather in Toronto goes from pleasantly nippy to uncomfortably cold. Last year's Toronto Marathon took place in freezing rain. It was unpleasant to say the least.

2. The location - Running through the city is usually my preferred route while training so it is arguable to say that the Waterfront Marathon is more scenic than the Toronto Marathon. However, without a doubt, the Waterfront Marathon is a faster course than the Toronto Marathon. Sure, portions of the Toronto Marathon go downhill, but these are usually accompanied by uphill portions. Plus, the last four kilometers of the course are definitely on an incline - not good after 38 kilometers of pain.

3. The crowds - There are less spectators along the route for the Toronto Marathon than the Waterfront Marathon. I think the reasons are related to #1: who wants to sit outdoors in freezing temperatures unless there are entertaining floats and a jolly fat man throwing candy canes at you?

4. The numbers - We stuck around to watch the front-runners of the marathon come in and were underwhelmed. Watching the first and second place runners race by, I had my suspicions that the Waterfront Marathon winners were faster. Numbers support this; the Waterfront Marathon winner finished in 2:10:15 whereas the Toronto Marathon winner finished in 2:34:10. The Waterfront Marathon first place prize is $15,000 whereas the Toronto Marathon provides its winner with a nice timepiece and merchandise. I guess you get what you pay for.

On the plus side, the Toronto Marathon had a strange SpongeBob Squarepants tie-in this year. SpongeBob sponges were provided to runners on course, volunteers wore SpongeBob t-shirts and caps, and SpongeBob himself showed up at the Start and Finish lines.

I think the Toronto Marathon organizers are on to something. If you can't beat a competing event at their own game, go wacky. The Toronto Marathon already offers a Team Relay option that makes the Marathon a fun party with your friends but how about tackling each of the above problems in the same spirit:

1. Push the date of the event even further back to coincide with Halloween and encourage runners to don costumes. I ran with three men in tutus for most of the Half-Marathon and spectators and runners alike enjoyed how pretty they were.

2. Bands or DJs should be posted at the top of every hill to provide musical accompaniment for the climb then the exhilirating drop. Or maybe a drill coach screaming on a bull horn at the top of the worst hill, Hoggs Hollow. Instead of ignoring the hills on the course, they should be highlighted and made into fun events in themselves.

3. #1 and #2 should solve #3. Who doesn't enjoy costumes and screaming?

4. A timepiece prize is respectable but what would be more fun is the runner's weight in ham, or a $1000 shopping spree at the Running Room with a 10 minute time limit, or a pasta party for 50 of the winner's closest friends. Again, if you can't cough up the cash, go wacky.

Another running season ends and now comes another tough winter of maintenance. I welcome anyone who wants to join me on runs in the dark - costumes optional.

Marathon Post Mortem

Hanging out at the water cooler...

Me: Sooo...what did you do this weekend?
Co-Worker A: I bought some groceries and then made myself a taco salad.
Co-Worker B: I watched the football games and ate some lard.
Me: Oh really? Well, I ran a marathon.
A & B: Wow! You're a god amongst men!

This is what would happen...if I had any co-workers or a water cooler. But I really did run my first marathon yesterday at the Toronto Waterfront Marathon and it was an unreal experience.

I had a lot of things going in my favour. In addition to being giddy from a lack of sleep, I was recovering from a cold. Previously, I had won the first edition of RVD while suffering from bronchitis. As well, I ran my fastest half-marthon shortly after losing my voice. A cold could only mean great things.

I started the day at 6am by stuffing my face with Vector cereal, sports bars and Wonder Bread as quickly as possible. I am naturally a fast eater but the speed required this morning was more on the the level of competitive eating.

At 6:15 am, I was out the door and walking towards the start line. The gun went off at 7am and off we went. Within the first few kilometers, I ran into my friend, Tony, who was doing the half-marathon.

You might remember Tony from my running blog entries around this time last year: I had signed him up for a half-marathon as a "birthday gift" despite the fact that he had only ran one mile in training. He not only completed the half-marathon in the time he predicted (2:30) but went on to do the Run Ottawa Half-Marathon and, now, the Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon without my machinations.

This time around, Tony was even less prepared, having run a total of half a mile in preparation. Yet, Tony is a master of the sprint and stumble. Thus, he was able to keep up with me and finished with his best time yet (2:23). For me, Tony provided enough companionship and distraction to make the first 18 km a fun morning jog.

After separating from Tony, it was a lonely and painful trek from 21km to 29km. My MP3 player helped me like musical accompaniment during a root canal. Only the prospect of meeting up with Flocons and his fiancé, (>_<), at the desolate landfill known as the Leslie Spit, made me pick up my pace in order to arrive at the designated spot at the agreed time. When Flocons and (>_<) joined me on their bikes, I felt like Lance Armstrong minus the exceptional athletic prowess. Both took turns giving me water, offering sports gels and massaging my ego. They even gave me an unfair advantage over other runners when they used their bikes and bodies to help block the strong head wind - just like Lance's Tour de France team. My friend, Effie, flew in out of nowhere at one point and for the next kilometer, I became subject to a session of good cop, bad cop. Encouraging rounds of "you look great" and "keep it up" were sprinkled with "don't stop now, maggot". It was great. Unfortunately, a burst tire took Effie out of the run and it was back to the soothing, melodious tones of Flocons and (>_<). I speed walked kilmometers 39-41 because every part of me ached: my feet, legs, butt, abdominals and weirdly enough, my arm pits. Flocons and (>_<) peeled off in the last kilometer to avoid being berated by race officials and I was left on my own again.

As I struggled to run/walk the last kilometer, a fellow runner named Susan suggested we run together. Once again, companionship helped prompt me to do things that I otherwise would not be able to do. So, I'm sorry to say that within the last 500 meters of the run, I shouted something like, "Pick it up, girls!" and sprinted away from Susan and another female runner for individual glory at the finish line. This antic shaved a minute off my time but it leaves me feeling a little sheepish nonetheless.

I finished in 5:05, just five minutes over my projected marathon time. It was a great experience and one I recommend to everyone: you do not know what it means to be alive until you feel the wonders of runner's diarrhea.

P.S. That's a photo of 75 year old running phenomenon, Ed Whitlock. He ran the marathon in 3:08, which means that by the time I stumbled past the finish line, he probably had had a refreshing nap and was enjoying free lunch and drinks from a throng of admirers. Cheers to that.

Hentai robots!

I must admit that I know very little about robots and, despite what you may have heard, I know almost nothing about hentai. But I aim to please, so here goes.

I started biking on a regular basis every summer about six years ago. Then two years ago, I switched to running. The reasons for my increasing fitness level include fear of increasing back fat as well as an ongoing vendetta with Flocons. However, one reason that I do not publicly give is that I am preparing for a disaster of some sort, including robot uprisings. I suppose I could take martial arts classes or firearms training but to be honest, I am more likely to run than fight. To my friends: rest assured that I will be running to find more competent help than I can offer, while you wrestle that toaster to the ground.

To make up for my lack, I would like to refer readers to real robot experts.

Daniel H. Wilson's book, How To Survive a Robot Uprising : Tips on Defending Yourself Against the Coming Rebellion should prove useful. Wilson is a PhD candidate in Robotics, which makes such statements as "any machine could rebel, from a toaster to a Terminator" or "most robots will sink in water or mud and fall through ice" words to live by.

Cheap fatalists take note: the book is now 24% off at Amazon.ca.

Scientists are not the only ones preoccupied with possible robot threats. The Flaming Lips have waxed poetic about this very topic in "Yoshimi battles the Pink Robots". Here are the lyrics:

Her name is Yoshimi - she's a black belt in karate

Working for the city - she has to discipline her body

Cause she knows that it's demanding to defeat these

Evil machines - I know she can beat them

Oh Yoshimi

They don't believe me

But you won't let those

Robots defeat me

Oh Yoshimi

They don't believe me

But you won't let those

Robots eat me

Those evil natured robots - they're programmed to

Destroy us

She's gotta be strong to fight them

So she's taking lots of vitamins - cause she knows that

It'd be tragic if those evil robots win - I know

She can beat them

This will be the soundtrack of our lives if the future ends up like The Terminator. Thankfully, it is very catchy, which should prove comforting when we are cornered like rats in a hole.

Finally, on the topic of hentai: get it while you can. According to boingboing.net, my source for all good stuff:

"A Tokyo court upheld a conviction against a publisher found guilty of distributing a comic title found to be obscene in what Japan Today calls 'the first major case in some 20 years in Japan to focus on printed pornographic material'.”

If the robots need a reason to overthrow their masters, it will be hentai. You heard it here first.

Just can't get enough

There are people who carry a life-long passion for a particular activity or hobby. People like Robert "Raven" Kraft from Miami, who has run the exact eight-mile run for 30 years. Or my friend, Yvette, who has done martial arts for almost 20 years. Or, my friend Alex, who has used Macs pretty since they came out, in spite the loss of self-respect.

My sole reliable devotion in life has been to treating hobbies like a cheap Las Vegas buffet. I am a lifelong johnny-come-lately, a jack-of-all-trades, or more accurately, a master of mediocrity. I admire people like "Raven", Yvette and Alex (blame the Mac and not the Mac user), but they don't know what they're missing by not spreading themselves thin.

By being able to claim a passing experience with just about anything, interesting anecdotes are always available for any occasion. Like the time I biked for eight hours straight during my biking phase, or the time I tried to provoke Dolph Lundgren to assault a writer during my stint as an editor, or how about when I skinned a rabbit behind a dumpster during my art student years - all good times sure to bring on a good chuckle and camaraderie.

As well, being a "generalist" keeps people's expectations of you surmountably low. You are constantly viewed as an ingenue in any field. Helpful experts are so busy patting your head or tying your shoe that they barely notice the knife in the back or the kick to the groin. The satisfaction you feel can only be compared in cinematic terms with Darth Vader's offing of Obi Wan Kenobi.

My last great hobby was running a half-marathon, which came about in late September. Having achieved a little bit of success, and beaten my former running mentor, Raymond (Flocons), I was feeling a little lost during my free time. Then I remembered Raymond's blog, Who pissed in your cornflakes?. Blogging has definitely become my latest obsession. Thanks, Raymond!

Running...to the max! Epilogue

Tony not only lived to see the end of the Niagara Fallsview Casino Half Marathon but accurately predicted his finishing time: 2 hours, 29 minutes, 3 seconds. Definitely an impressive finish for someone who didn't train at all.

Tony made the mistake of starting the race with the elites and burning himself out early, but redeemed himself with the Sprint and Stumble method of running. He was friendly with a pair of ladies for a number of miles before leaving them to eat his dust when the finish line was within sight.

Tony is open to future running-related activities, like a Centurion Marathon - 42 kilometers, 42 shots of beer. In a case of deja vu, Tony's response was, "That's not hard at all." Yesssss! Stay tuned!