gavinshearer.com

August 24, 2008

"In Defense Of Food"

I recently finished Michael Pollan's new book, "In Defense of Food" and have found myself, strangely, talking about it with just about everyone I know.

"Food" is a follow-on to Pollan's hugely successful "The Omnivore's Dilemma", and it concerns itself with distilling the a lot of "Dilemma"'s findings into actionable, specific suggestions for changing your diet, and your life.

The core advice ("Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.") isn't all that radical, or even surprising. What is surprising, and what most caught my imagination, was the exploration of the modern food industry, and how it operates. In some ways, "Defense" is a spiritual successor to "Fast Food Nation", and, just as that book will put you off your local hamburger, "Defense" will give you pause when you are confronted with the claimed health benefits of a protein bar, a bag of snack food, or any of the quick-heat meals that Americans rely on to get themselves through the day. Pollan advocates "hugging the edges" of your local grocery store, sticking with fresh fruits, vegetables, dairy and meats, and avoiding the highly-processed, preservative-laden concotions in the middle.

I do find Pollan a bit fussy (and a bit too much of food snob), but many of his suggestions about how to revere and appreciate your food (eat slowly and deliberately; prepare your own food if you can; buy the freshest, most-local ingredients you can) have become part of Elaine's and my routine in the past month or so. We are making time for dinner with each other, cooking several times a week, shopping for our ingredients at the local farmer's market or produce stand, and, I have to say, Pollan has a point. I've found myself casting a wary eye on Balance Bars, Baked Lays, and pretty much anything that comes out of one of the vending machines at the office. I've tried to break habits about portion sizes (start with a half sandwich, wait 10 minutes, see if I'm still hungry), and have discovered real pleasure in preparing meals the long way 'round, especially on weekends (like this one) where we can - and are willing - to make the time (de-bearding mussels last Friday rates as one of my more interesting hands-on experiences in a kitchen).

"Defense" is worth a read, even though I doubt you'll buy every one of Pollan's points any more than I did. It certainly will challenge your assumptions about what's in the grocery store, what you're putting in your mouth, and what role food is playing in your life.

Recommend.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 24, 2008 4:57 PM.
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June 22, 2008

Escaping From Alcatraz, Days 4 & 5 - Sightseeing

A few more trip notes:

• Monday morning was, in every sense, The Morning After. I didn't bother to set the alarm the night before (I'd felt, for some strange reason, that I'd earned my right to sleep in), and consequently I didn't open my eyes until 9 or so. And then I didn't bother to get out of bed for a good half hour or so after that.
• Everything aches. Everything. My neck is sore, my back is sore, my legs are sore, my hip flexers are sore. I have slightly-sunburned parts of my skin competing with my fatigued muscles to see which can get more of my attention. (This is not a competition I'm pleased to have going on in my body.)
• Eventually, clothes are procured (the shower is skipped) and the four of us head downstairs to the hotel diner for some truly good, greasy-spoon omelette and french toast. The coffee's OK, but the potatoes rock. Jeff and I keep shooting sheepish, happy, can't-believe-its-over grins at one another across the table. If the ladies weren't with us, the other patrons would think we were a couple.
• By strange coincidence, today is the first day of Apple's weeklong World Wide Developer's Conference, also taking place here in San Francisco, and a number of my MacBU colleagues are in town for the event. Steve Jobs is giving the keynote at 10 AM, and thus, as of about 10:05 AM, I become one of those truly annoying table guests who obsessivly checks their phone every few seconds for news and information.
• (My verdict? The new iPhone is excellent, but the big news is the $199 price, not the 3G technology. Apple is going to take the market with these things. Near as I can tell, there are just three types of mobile phones now - free phones, BlackBerries, and iPhones. Everyone else is going to have to scramble to prove themselves.)
• The girls want to shop, so we head back up to the room, get showered and changed, and are off to H&M.
• As the day progresses, the four of us decide to split up. Elaine and I head out to meet Kim for lunch and some sightseeing.
• If you have the opportunity, be sure to get the Kickin' Chicken sandwich at Blue Barn Gourmet. It's about 18 types of deliciousness between two pieces of bread. Unbelievable.
• I generally dig shamelessly touristy activities - if you come to Seattle, I'm all about going to the Space Needle or Riding the Ducks. In keeping with this spirit, we decide to walk the Golden Gate Bridge from the south end to the midspan and back. (Given that Kim is planning to deliver her first child next week, this makes me seriously doubt which of us is in better physical condition. I'm giving the nod to her.)
• The Golden Gate, on foot, is exactly what you'd expect: majestic and awesome (and that's 'awesome' in the "Old Testament" sense, and not in the "Bill S. Preson, Esquire and Ted 'Theodore' Logan" sense).
• The weather is windy, gusty and blustery and threatening to throw us around if it gets much worse. We've all got lightweight jackets, and we're using 'em.
• Alcatraz looks very, very, very far away from shore. My ego inflates a bit.
• I might be the only person on Earth to be surprised by this, but the Golden Gate Gift Shop has pretty crappy service. If you find a decent t-shirt, you'll have to fight to be able to buy it. Be warned.
• San Francisco has some pretty incredible transit. Kim, Elaine and I manage to ride the cable cars, BART, and street-level light rail. The systems all interoperate smoothly, and I'm struck by how much SF has in common with Seattle - confusing geography, lots of different transit users, and distinct types of transit modes (bus, monorail, light rail, streetcar). Spending the day in San Francisco's transit system gives a glimpse of what Seattle will be like around 2020 or so.
• Cable cars, in particular, are astoundingly fun to ride in sunny weather. And if you have a chance, check out the free cable car museum; the exhibits are seriously interesting for any transit geek (and you get to see the actual machinery that drives the cable system in the city!).
• The commuter rail train station at 4th & King is also way cool - light, airy, and smoothly interconnecting heavy rail, light rail and buses. Plenty of bike lockers. We saw a gadzillion geek commuters disgorge from a Caltrain from San Jose and then stream in to the city. The closest thing we have in Seattle is King Street Station, but that's a few years/decades from seeing this kind of use.
• Tuesday morning, we had breakfast at Louis', overlooking the Sutro Bathhouse ruins. Better coffee, fantastic potatoes, cash only.
• Jeff and Barb had planned to take an extra day or two to drive through Napa and on to Washington, so the four of us parted ways (with much hugging). After loading my bike in the back of the Highlander, Lane and I headed for the airport.
• The new international concourse at SFO is gorgeous. Modern, clean, full of light, and, at least when we got there, totally deserted. I started wondering if we'd missed some kind of Homeland Security update.
• Our flight back to Seattle was on Virgin America; this was our first time flying the carrier. My colleague Stuart had raved about VA's service from Los Angeles, so we had high expectations. We were not disappointed: the plane was clean (and even had that 'new plane smell'), and each seat is equipped with a touchscreen entertainment system and a small game controller/keyboard in the arm. Elaine and I immediately discovered the plane-wide instant message system, and started flirting with one another over IM.
• Best. Airplane. Orientation. Video. Ever.
• You order drinks through the touchscreeen, and pay with your credit card (the plane does not accept cash). After placing your order, the attendant materializes over your shoulder with your beverage ready to go. It's about as slick as can be.
• After arriving at SeaTac, we noticed that there's a kick-ass Link Light Rail photo gallery on display in Concourse A. We were both pretty tired after the long weekend, but Elaine was kind enough to let me stand and study this sucker for a good 5 minutes. If you're in the airport and have a few minutes to kill, look for it.

Damn, it's good to be home.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated June 22, 2008 10:43 AM.
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June 21, 2008

Escaping From Alcatraz, Day 3 - Race!

At precisely 4:20 AM on Sunday, my iPhone's alarm went off (the first 20 seconds of "Clocks", if you're curious), and, despite being unable to get much sleep the night before, I sat bolt-upright in bed, 80% awake and climbing.

Race day.

Glancing across the room, Jeff is already up and climbing out of his bed. I stand up, grab a DoubleShot from the mini fridge, and manage to fire down a banana and a CLIF bar before my stomach nerves decide to get the better of me. (Better not push it.)

Jeff and I need to be at Marina Green by 5 AM, so we start pulling on clothes, zipping up our duffel bags, and basically getting ready to move out. Elaine, bless her heart, rouses herself to slather me in waterproof sunscreen; I pull on my swimsuit, warmup pants, t-shirt, reflective jacket, and bike helmet, meet Jeff at the door, and pose for photographs,

We're gone by a quarter to 5, heading down Van Ness on our bikes, duffel bags strapped to our backs and race numbers on our helmets.

Turns out that a quickie, two-mile ride at five in the morning is the perfect thing to do before a race. In my case, it gets my blood flowing, some cool wind in my face, and helps me feel comfortable and psyched for the race. We also aren't alone - we see a bunch of other cyclists on streets across the city, all converging on the race site. (Too cool.)

Marina Green is black black black, the only illumination being stretlights and the flashlights of hundreds of volunteers, all barking orders at racers and keeping us corralled and moving. Our mission is simple: find our designated slots in the transition area, park our bikes there, lay out our transition clothes and supplies, drop our post-swim bag at the truck, and then head for the bus that takes us to the boat.

I find the "682" slot on the bike rack, get my bike on the rack, and then proceed to flatten out my duffel on the wet grass underneath. I laid out everything I'd want before the ride segment - bike jersey, helmet, roadside repair stuff, water bottle, food. After gettting it arranged just so, we drop our post-swim bags at the loading truck, and board the shuttle bus to the boat. Once safely on the bus, Jeff and I turn, look at each other, and spontaneously start grinning.

(Dude, I can't believe we're doing this!)

The bus fills with triathletes and eventualy we're under way, heading north into the city and out to the piers just east of Coit Tower. Dawn is breaking, so there's daylight, and as the bus drops us off we're met by more volunteers, each of whom directs us to head toward the moored San Francisco Belle.

The pier is full of racers, with more are arriving as the morning progresses and additional buses arrive. Jeff and I wait in line to get bodymarked - our numbers written in black Sharpie on our biceps/thighs/hands, our ages written on our left calves - and then head over and grab seats on empty stretches of concrete pier. It's all waiting at this point - waiting to board the boat, waiting for the boat to get under way, waiting to travel out to Alcatraz, waiting to jump in the water.

We're both a bit jittery. Jeff tells corny jokes (the "Smell Mop" knock-knock makes an appearance); I practice my terrible Sean Connery impression ("Losers always whine about their best...").

I begin singing snippets of catchy, annoying songs - precisely the type that will stick in your head during an atheletic event - and Jeff threatens me with bodily harm if I continue.

Around 6:30, we board the Belle, and secure seats on the floor. The boat fills quickly, and the temperature begins rising with all the body heat.

At 7:05 AM, the boat engines roar to life, and everyone on board gives a cheer. Finally under way, we head out to the Bay.

The weather is astounding. The sun is out (but not warm), the fog is burning off, the water in the bay is gloriously calm. The city is bathed in this unbelievable warm orange light, and I am reminded of something that one of the race directors said during orientation the day before:

"No matter what God you believe in, the experience you're going to have tomorrow is life-changing. Chances are good that you're not one of the elites, so as long as you've already kissed the possibility of finishing first goodbye, I encourage you to pause a moment during your swim, turn over, float on your back, and just drink in the majesty of this beautiful city and this beautiful place, and really just give thanks for being fortunate enough to be alive."

I think about this - think about it a lot, actually - and my nerves leave me. Completely.

At 7:40, we're getting close to Alcatraz and are just 20 minutes from start. Jeff and I strip down to our swimsuits, strap our timing chips on to our left ankles, and wriggle in to our wetsuits. We keep our wetsuit hoods, official (lime-green!) Alcatraz swim caps, and goggles; all our other stuff (shoes, socks, t-shirt, etc.) goes in to a race bag with our respective numbers on them. (We'll leave them on the boat and get them after the race is all over.)

7:55. The Belle is in position, just off the Alcatraz shore. There are helicopters flying around, guys on jetskis, kayaks, police boats. Media is interviewing the top athletes, who are perched on the railings alongside the boat. It's controlled chaos, and the vibe among the hoi palloi on the Belle is approaching fever-pitch excitement. We're ready.

At 8:00 the gun goes off, and the elites are in the water, hauling ass for shore. The rest of us wait about two minutes and suddenly start moving for the thrown-open side doors of the Belle. The swim starts as simply as possibe - you jump in, and try not to land on the guy in front of you. At 8:05, I cross over the timing sensor, take two steps forward, and JERONIMO! into San Francisco Bay.

(Oh, so that's that 55-degree water feels like! Holy crap!)

The water is choppy with all the swimmers jumping in and thrashing around, and, for a brief while, we're all on top of each other like those poor crabs stacked three-high in the fishtank at the Chinese place down the street. People are bumping in to me, I'm bumping in to them; it's insane. Eventually, I find my stride (and a clear bit of water), and focus on getting to shore without killing myself. I settle in to a three-stroke-breathe pattern, and start to enjoy myself.

Swimming isn't a sport that's known for its great views, so if you want to simulate the experience of swimming in San Francisco Bay at home, here's what you do. First, get a bucket and fill it to the brim with chilled brownish saltwater. Second, get a desk lamp with a good 200-watt bulb in it. Set up the desk lamp to one side of the bucket. Now, put your face head-down in the bucket and blow bubbles for at least 15 seconds, and turn your head to the side when you need to breathe. Notice that every time you turn toward the desk lamp, your eyeballs are practically burned out of your skull (that's "the sun" in the real swim); notice, too, that the experience of putting your head in a bucket of cold, brownish saltwater is pretty monotonous after about, oh, 45 seconds.

(And if you want a really good simulation, have a friend or family member come bump you - hard - at random intervals, to simulate encounters with other swimmers. Trust me - you'll love it.)

Swimming in open water is a bit strange - your ability to gauge distance is all goofed up, because there are no landmarks that get recognizably closer. I pause after ten minutes or so, float on my back, drink in the view, give thanks, and suddenly wonder - am I actually going anywhere?. I mean, it looks like I am exactly where I was when I leaped off the boat, relative to the shore. I turn around, look at the Belle (yep, it's back there a fair bit), mentally shrug my shoulders, and get back to the swim.

The swim does have a compass, however, and it's called Sutro Tower. This tall, red radio tower is a stationary landmark that you can see from anywhere in the bay. If you're swimming from Alcatraz, keep Sutro at 12 o'clock and the strong bay currents will do the rest, sweeping you west as you swim north. My routine, then, is swim-swim-swim-swim-peek-adjust-swim-swim-swim-swim.

Suddenly, I'm at shore. And just as suddenly, I'm fighting with the surf to stand upright, unzipping my wetsuit, and trying to get to the swim transition area. I locate my bag, finish striping out of the wetsuit, towel off, pull on shoes and socks, stuff the suit back in the bag, and start jogging back to my bike in the transition area (roughly a mile away). I feel great - the swim was invigorating, I've got lots of energy, and the overwhelming feeling of doing this thing is carrying me forward.

(I don't learn this until later, but I finished the swim in 34 minutes - a fantastic time. I clearly caught some current, but, regardless I'm really proud of that number.)

It's about a quarter to nine at this point, and as I'm jogging back to my bike I'm shocked at how many people are lined up to cheer for us all. There are friends and families of athletes, of course, but there's a lot of local San Franciscans out with fair-trade, shade-grown morning coffee in hand, giving it up for the folks in the event. I will confess, freely, that it made me happy, and not just a little bit proud.

So I get to the transition area, run down the chute, find my bike, and am immediately trying to get geared up for my ride. I pull on my bike jersey (a Canadian-flag number that Elaine bought for me), strap on my helmet, switch in to the bike shoes, pop a handful of ClifShot into my mouth, and am gone, run/walking my bike toward the bike start line. I cross the line, throw a leg over, and am suddenly moving at 15 mph in the clear morning light, riding back against the stream of runners coming from the swim. I pass (and cheer to) Jeff, who has emerged from his swim and is heading for transition. We exchange white-guy high-fives.

The ride feels great. There's no wind, so I'm left to make my own as I pedal, getting in to the rhythm of the ride, letting my body get used to the idea of a new sport, a different kind of exertion.

Here's the thing with the Alcatraz ride segment: it giveth, and then it taketh away. The entire 18 miles is an up-and-down, out-and-back monstrosity; you go from Marina Green to the Presidio, then up to the Legion of Honor, then out to the Cliff House, down the hill on the 101 to ride along the ocean, and, finally, up and in to Golden Gate Park, at which point you turn around and go back. At that point, every hill you fought your way up to get to the park is now a downhill, and the downhills that gave you relief/exhiliration on the way to the park (Cliff House Hill, I'm looking at you) are now laying in wait for you, like some loanshark that loaned you $10k when you needed it most and now wants the cash back, with interest.

The ride is incredible. The hills are hard, but manageable; my body feels great; the views of the Golden Gate, the ocean, and some of San Francisco's best real estate are beyond amazing. I have two small mechanical bike issues (a brake thingy, a chain lockup), but neither is a problem. As the ride goes on, I find my groove and quickly start seeing the same riders over and over again; we share camaraderie as we trade positions and pass one another.

Jeff, for his part, passes me (with another white-guy high-five) in the first quarter of the ride. But an hour and 20 later, I'm flying back in to transition, putting my bike on the rack, switching out into my running shoes, and heading back out for the final, 8-mile run. As I hit transition, I hear Elaine cheering for me; I steal a (wonderful) kiss, and head out.

At this point it's 10:30, and the sun is starting to make its presence known. I give mental thanks to Elaine for the sunscreen, and focus on finding my rhythm.

The course is reasonably flat for the first two miles of the run; we're heading from Marina Green toward the Golden Gate Bridge, past Crissey Field and out (ultimately) to Baker Beach. As I hit the two-mile mark, I round the corner next to some restrooms and suddenly see that the run course goes straight up some very, very steep steps. And it is at this point that my body - which has done so well all morning with keeping me moving and feeling great - tells me to take it easy.

It's not muscle fatigue, or my quads throwing in the towel, or my legs converting to Jell-O; rather, this is about my heart and lungs hitting their limits, pushing as much blood and O2 as they can, and my body recognizing, at some primal level, that those limits do not include Olympic-speed performance while gaining 800 feet of elevation on some packed-earth stairs.

So I walk. And then I run, and then I walk, and then I run, which turns in to the pattern for the whole segment. I run down hills, jog on flats, and make the valiant attempt on the elevation to build and keep momentum. My results are mezzo-mezzo, but I keep at it, always moving.

I marvel at the terrain - concrete, asphalt, bricks, wet sand, dry sand, dirt, pebbles, vegatation, wood chips. Just about everything except snow and ice. Unbelievable.

The views are, as with the ride, jaw-dropping.

Baker Beach is a cruel and nasty turnaound point - it's dry sand, uneven and pock-marked from the thousand atheletes that have come before me. Even walking, it's all I can do to keep focused on not twisting an ankle. I hit the turnaround, and start heading back; I'm perhaps a quarter mile in before the sand ladder, which I take as carefully as I can. 5,223 steps later (or whatever), I'm at the top of the ladder next to the CLIF guys, who have a DJ and are playing some serious dance music. I move on.

The final two miles are the hardest. It's flat again, which, mentally, means "I have no excuse not to run", but my system is pretty tapped out. I breathe, remember the 'float on your back and enjoy it' line, and push on. As I get closer to Marina Green, the crowd re-materializes, and everyone seems to be cheering and giving an encouraging word. It helps.

Once the finish line is within sight, it's like the starting gun going off all over again. Whatever's left in the tank is put front and center, and I'm moving, heading down the street, into the chute, and across the finish line and the readout says 3:55:14 and I'm done, like done done done in a big way, gasping for breath and smiling and hoping, for all my life, that the professional race photos of me running down the chute don't look too dorky. 'Cause I'm really proud of that last bit, and I want 'em.

(Later, I learn that they are, indeed, dorky. But there's one of my on my bike that I love.)

And that's it. My final race time was 3:53 and change, which is about 10 minutes slower than my time back in 2000. I'm OK with that - losing 10 minutes after 8 years is just fine - and then I found out that Jeff, stud triathlete that he is, did it in 3:05. Which makes my head explode, just a little. (The dude amazes me.)

Elaine and Barb help us back to our hotel, where we shower, change, and then head out for some more In-N-Out Burger. During the meal, we talk about doing it again next year, if we can get in.

And then we go back to the hotel.
And then we sleep.
Well.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated June 21, 2008 7:46 PM.
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June 15, 2008

Escaping From Alcatraz, Day 2 - Orientation

More trip notes:

• Our hotel in San Francisco was the Broadway Manor. Located at the intersection of Van Ness and Broadway, it's like a lot of San Francisco - older, renovated, and central to just about everything. The hotel itself isn't much to look at, but they have free parking, clean rooms, good (basic) service and a diner on the ground floor.
• They also have super-comfortable beds - everyone slept unbelievably well.
• Saturday was a slow start - since we arrived after midnight, nobody was in any kind of hurry to get up and move around. As a result, we started flipping through cable TV and wound up watching Hillary's concession speech on MBSNC. I have to say, I think it was the best speech I've ever seen her deliver - gracious, loose, from the heart, poignant, classy (and no, I'm not just saying that because I liked the content).
• (Side note - why is it that some politicians only seem to do their best work at the end? I remember watching Al Gore give his concession speech in 2000 - he was loose, friendly, accessible, authentic - and thinking, "Where was that guy during the campaign?".)
• After rousing, we walked a couple blocks down Van Ness and got coffee at "Notes From Underground." The coffee's OK, but the breakfast - one it arrives - is to die for. Fantastic omelettes, great potatoes. You just need to budget an hour or so for the damn plates to arrive.
• Every coffee house in San Francisco has free WiFi. I love this.
• Ground Zero for all things Escape From Alcatraz is Marina Green, which is on the waterfront. We need to pick up our registration packets and attend an orientation at 1 PM. Since it's only about two miles from the hotel, we elect to walk.
• A bike shop across Van Ness has a banner up: "Welcome! Alcatraz Triathletes Good Luck!". Jeff and I start to get excited.
• Marina Green has been completely taken over with Escape stuff - vendor tents, the bike-transition area, orientation stage, finish line, signage, food stalls. The place is mobbed, too - Marina Green is a busy part of San Francisco on a given Saturday, but today it's crazy with pedestrians, triathletes (plus their families and friends), rollerbladers, bikers, kids selling lemonade, etc.
• Jeff and I get our registration packets (a duffel bag with our bib numbers, stickers, plastic bags for transition, mini-CLIF Bars, and goodies from other local businesses) and head over for orientation.
• Orientation takes about an hour, but there's only about 15 minutes worth of content. The organizers spend a bit more time than they need to in thanking sponsors and pointing out that you can take home souvenirs.
• For all that, the information is terrific. I am very impressed with how safety-oriented the event is: the swim, for instance, is planned to a T. In addition to swimming with the current, we'll be accompanied by kayaks, jetskis, boats, and a helicopter or two (just in case). The trick with the swim is to look for Sutro Tower, keep it at 12 o'clock, and swim toward it; the current will do the rest. Kayakers and others will make sure that you don't get too far off-course; if you do, they'll get you back in position.
• Headphones are not allowed on the run or the ride. (Back in my hotel room, my iPod Shuffle starts crying.)
• By the end of the orientation, the four of us are sunburned (the weather is spectacular) and a little tired.
• We head back to the hotel, jump in the car, and drive the bike course. As we're swooping up and down hills (Legion of Honor, I'm looking at YOU), I'm suddenly remembering just how frickin' crazy the ride actually is. Yowza. Thank God for training.
• Dinner is at Marnee Thai, which, if you're at all in to Thai food, is a must-try the next time you're in SF.
• We call it an early night; I want to be asleep by 9:30. After returning to the hotel, I prep my bike (pump the tires, get my number attached, fill the waterbottle) and then pack my various bags. There are three bags to worry about - one goes with you on the boat in the morning, one goes in your transition zone, and the third is available after you get out of the water from the swim. The post-swim bag gets my running shoes, socks, and a towel. The transition bag gets my bike helmet, bike jersey, and other bike stuff (e.g., puncture repair kit). The bag on the boat will contain all the stuff I will wear before I jump in the water (and will want later) like my fleece, warmup pants, and the like. I get all three bags put together, set out my clothing for the morning, and, ultimately call it a night.
• 10:30 PM. I'm staring at the ceiling. Still awake. Can't sleep.
• 11:30 PM. I'm staring at the ceiling. Still awake. Can't sleep.
• 12:30 AM. I'm staring at the ceiling. Still awake. Can't sleep.
• 1:30 AM. I'm staring at the ceiling. Still awake. Can't sleep.

2:30 AM. I'm staring at the ceiling. Still awake. Can't sleep.
(Sigh.)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated June 15, 2008 11:40 AM.
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June 11, 2008

Escaping From Alcatraz, Day 1 - ROAD TRIP!

After months of training and prep, the Escape From Alcatraz triathlon finally happened on Sunday, June 8. My good friend Jeff and I both participated, and I'm proud to say that I am not a) dead, b) crippled, or c) in the belly of a shark somewhere in the San Francisco Bay.

In fact, the thing was a hell of a lot of fun.

As per usual, here are some trip notes - in this case, from Friday, the 6th (aka, "Day 1")

• The general plan is that Elaine, Jeff, Barb and I will drive down Friday with the bikes and the wetsuits and the gear and the hey hey hey, spend Saturday getting oriented, do the race Sunday morning, sleep Sunday afternoon, and then be all touristy-n'-shit for Monday/Tuesday. This means, of course, that we've got to actually get to San Francisco through that most time-honored of all American pastimes - ROAD TRIP!
• It's a long drive, and a long day, so we'd intended to be on the road by 6 AM sharp. Instead, after a few too many rounds of Mario Kart Wii the night before (where, it must be said, I got my ass handed to me), we elected to, uh delay by getting up 6, and had a strong plan to be out the door at 7.
• (We actually left the condo at 7:30.)
• You can't road trip on an empty stomach, so we headed to Zoka for coffee and heavenly, bacon-egg-cheese panini breakfast.
• Zoka is slow, so we got on the road - for realsies - by 8 AM. The good news is that this means we only have 12.5 hours to go if we don't stop for gas, bathroom breaks, or food.
• Both couples have passenger cars (read: not enough space for the four of us, plus bikes and other business), so Jeff rented a Toyota Highlander for the trip. It's a pretty sweet ride - great handling, great amenities, lots of cup holders, the usual. The Highlander also has an auxiliary jack for the stereo, so the four of us took turns hijacking the sound system with our own respective iPods.
• The weather was awful as we left Seattle - nasty, blattering, wet-to-the-bone rain that makes it hard to see much of anything. Ugh.
• 10 AM: We're telling knock knock jokes. My new favorite: "Knock knock?" "Who's there?" "Smell mop."
• (Say the punchline. You'll laugh.)
• We pass by the Great Wolf Lodge in Centralia, which appears out of nowhere like some kind of crazy casino/kid's wonderland (which is pretty much what it is). Imagine huge waterslides and a Northwest timber motif, and you've basically got it. All I can think is, "when did they put that in?"
• 10:45 AM: "Wish You Were Here" is fantastic road trip music.
• 11 AM: We hit Portland. The weather continues to be awful.
• An hour south of Portland, we see the Enchanted Forest theme park, which looks like a Park Time Forgot - run down, a rickety coaster, fading signage. The weather isn't helping, of course - who wants to go to a theme park in this kind of rain? - but I can't help wonder who the customers for the place are. What parents bring their kids here? Those "Funtastic" traveling carnivals in supermarket parking lots look like a better deal.
• 12:15 PM. We begin playing Tenacious D.
• Roughly 200 miles in to Oregon, it finally stops raining.
• Roughly 10 miles later, it starts again.
• We're hungry, and start using the iPhone to look for lunch recommendations. We get all excited about trying Burgerville in Albany, but miss the off-ramp as I dick around with the mapping application (the iPhone's "current location" always thinks I'm heading north on I-5, which leads to entertaining directions, to say the least.). We find an awesome wiki with restaurant recommendations for Eugene, and settle on the Cornucopia.
• Cornucopia is fantastic. The waitress says they're "known for their burgers" and she wasn't kidding - the BBQ bacon burger is to die for, and their beer selection is astounding. The three of us begin extolling the virtues of the open road, new restaurants, and Oregon in general.
• Another note on Oregon: everybody in Oregon - and I mean everybody is incredibly nice. The lady taking our order, the lady pumping our gas, the crazy homeless guy, everybody. It's not in a Stepford Wives kind of way, either; people just seem relaxed and happy.
• Traveling for any substantial distance on the interstate makes you realize that roads are really about trucks, not cars. I mean, we see lots of cars, sure, but mostly our fellow travelers are trucks going about their business, delivering trees/cookies/aluminum tubing/packages, you name it. It's like peeking behind the curtain of commerce, and seeing how the machinery really works.
• By the way, every trucking company is looking for drivers right now.
• We stopped at the Beanery in Ashland, Oregon, for a caffeine buzz. Maybe it was just because we'd been in the car all day (and were thus punchy), but the four of us could not stop giggling about two drinks - "Pooh's Picnic" and "Flavored Steamer" - followed one another on the readerboard.
• (I do recommend the mocha with Mexican chocolate. Fantastimo.)
• As we left Ashland, the rain stopped. (For good, this time, as it happens.)
• 5:42 PM - We enter California, and begin vigorous debate about the proper pronunciation of "Yreka".
• Dinner is at In-N-Out Burger.
• 9:57 PM. We're 60 miles from Sacramento. It's dark outside, and we're actively stopping at rest areas to jump around and keep our energy up.
• Howard Jones' "No One Is To Blame" comes on the stereo, and we all start singing along, like some cut scene from Reality Bites
• 11:35 PM: We zip through Berkeley, CA and find ourselves paying a $4 toll to cross in to San Francisco across the Bay Bridge.
• The city is beautiful at night - elegant, vibrant, sprawling, fantastic. It's the coolest thing we've seen all day.
• 11:55 PM: With a heavy, happy smile, Jeff pulls in to the hotel lot, parks, and kills the engine.

"We're here."

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated June 11, 2008 8:38 PM.
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June 2, 2008

Slate On The Wii Fit

Slate's own Seth Stevenson (he who famously - and hysterically - took the piss out of Jaguar a few years ago) has a review/write-up ("Can Wii Fit Get Your Sorry, Lazy Ass In Shape?") of Nintendo's new Wii Fit:

Now comes the release of Nintendo's Wii Fit, the latest and perhaps most ambitious effort yet in a category I'll term "didactic gaming." Wii Fit is less a video game than a solicitous personal trainer. It offers yoga, strength training, aerobics, and balance drills. It tracks your weight and body mass index, and records the frequency and duration of your exercise sessions. (It does not charge by the hour, show up late for appointments, or gossip with other personal trainers when it should be paying attention to you.)

By sheer coincidence, I pitched Lane on the Wii Fit this weekend; she gave me the 'boys and their toys' look, and said, "Don't you think we should just, you know, get into a yoga class?"

(Girls. Sheesh.)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated June 2, 2008 7:36 AM.
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May 16, 2008

It's Bike To Work Day

I rode - did you?

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 16, 2008 9:27 AM.
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May 15, 2008

Awesome Burke-Gilman/Google Maps Mashup

I found a terrific, interactive map of the Burke-Gilman trail today - it uses Google Maps to a) call out important landmarks, and b) compute the distance from any given start point to any given end point.

If you're a cyclist/runner/rollerblader who's interested in computing mileage, it's a must-check-out.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 15, 2008 7:48 AM.
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December 19, 2007

Escaping From Alcatraz: June 8, 2008

You know that moment when you found out you won something unexpected? Like, you entered some random sweepstakes, and then later you're told that you won the grand prize?

I'm having that moment right now.

Two years ago, my friend Jeff and I tried to enter the "Escape From Alcatraz" triathlon. The event is always popular, so the sponsors have implemented a lottery system to limit the number of participants. Neither of us got in for 2005.

Well, we thought we'd try it again for 2008, and - we made the list. At or around 8 AM on Sunday, June 8, 2008, I'll be impersonating shark-bait in San Francisco Bay.

(Yes!)
(Jeff is pretty excited, too.)

If you're not familiar, The Escape from Alcatraz triathlon is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. The race starts from the side of a boat just off from Alcatraz island; you swim to shore (1.5 miles), strip off your wetsuit and run a mile to your bike, then ride 18 miles in an out-and-back loop to Golden Gate Park and finally end with an 8-mile run. (Course information and map here.)

I've done Alcatraz once - in 2000 - and my goals at the time were simple: 1) finish the race without killing myself, and 2) finish in under four hours if possible. I finished with a time of 3:44:27, which made me very happy.

This time, it's all about faster. I'm trying to shave a half-hour off my time, and finish under 3:15. It's going to be a challenge, no question, but I'm a much better runner than I was in 2000, and I'm planning to train on the cycle more consistently (as well as doing lots and lots of hills). I figure the time breakdown looks like this:

• Swim: 45 minutes
• Run To Bike/Transition: 15 minutes (60)
• Ride: 70 minutes (130)
• Run: 65 minutes (195)

The trick is going to be some serious, at-distance training sessions. After spending two or three months getting up to speed in each event, Jeff and I will be spending our weekends in simulated triathlons, getting the endurance up.

Hoo boy, do I have a lot of work to do - I've got to get back in the water, get back out running Greenlake, and buy a bicycle.

I am sooooooo looking forward to this!

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated December 19, 2007 5:20 PM.
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February 19, 2006

96 Seconds To Go

After I did Portland last year, I blogged about wanting to "go faster" - namely, wanting to increase my running speed so I can get around Greenlake three times in less than an hour (aka "8.4 mph"). My first step is to get around the lake once, sub-20:00.

In many ways, going faster is a lot harder than doing distance running. With distance, you can settle in to a nice rhythm and just ... extend. With speed, you have to push yourself, prevent your bod from getting in to that rhythm, and consciously keep your focus.

So today, I hit the lake with Elaine and Richard, and managed to turn in my best-ever (recent) time for once around: 21:35. That means I've got to shave 96 seconds in order to get 19:59. The last few weeks have seen steady speed increases - 30 seconds here, 40 there - but I know that this is going to get a lot, lot harder as I approach the limits of my natural running speed. It's going to be a game of inches. My stamina will get better, and that'll help me sustain. Music helps, too.

So I'm optimistic. I can do this!

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated February 19, 2006 8:55 PM.
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February 4, 2006

Blown Away

We're seeing some record-high winds here in Seattle today - gusts up to 60 mph. It's crazy. The 520 floating bridge has been closed, trees are falling over, and people are worried that they're going to lose electricity before the Superbowl tomorrow.

So, naturally, I decided to go running.

(What can I say? It's not like I've had a lot of time to run this week, and at least it wasn't raining.)

Richard, Elaine and I hit Greenlake around 3:30 to get do a lap. The strength of the wind was unbelievable - running into the stuff felt like I was moving through water. And if I had the misfortune to be perpendicular to the wind, my leg would be blown around whenever I'd take it off the ground (to, you know, move forward).

The lake looked like it was boiling - choppy and wild, with large, angry waves crashing over the concrete retaining walls and sending spray everywhere.

That said, the run wasn't too bad. The lake wasn't deserted, exactly, but it was pretty sparse. And for my part, I didn't even make it around once - it was just too challenging to keep moving against the wind. (1 time around = 2.8 miles. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.)

Weather permitting, we're trying it again tomorrow.

UPDATE, March 12, 2006: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated February 4, 2006 6:14 PM.
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December 30, 2005

Another Marathon ... Only Faster

I'm going to run another marathon.

After some back-and-forth, Richard and I have decided to train together for the Royal Victoria Marathon in Victoria, BC, Canada, on October 8, 2006. I'm all registered and ready to rock.

My Portland experience was pretty exceptional, and I'm finding myself wanting to do it again ... but faster.

Seriously, 4:21:35 was a fine time, but I know I can get under four hours by changing up some of my training. Now that I know a little more about what I'm doing, I can improve my stamina at distance, and I can do some smarter nutritional things to prevent the Mile 18 Bonk.

So I'm going, and I'm going sub-four. The serious training kicks off in June.

Anyone out there wanna do this with us? (They've got half marathons, too.) Could be a fun weekend in Canada ...

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated December 30, 2005 9:18 AM.
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November 27, 2005

A Walk To Remember

Wallking all 13.1 miles of the Seattle Half Marathon took Elaine and me 3 hours, 30 minutes, and 28 seconds. And it was a total blast.

Knowing that traffic would be insane down at Memorial Stadium (and it was), we elected to walk from my place on Cap Hill, leaving around 6:30. Even with the Starbucks stop on 15th, we were at the start line around 7:15.

The Half Marathon started at 7:30; the Half Marathon Walk began 15 minutes later. Surprisingly, I ran in to a handful of friends while milling around (shouts out to Tara and Tarun). We watched our running brethren launch into the cold morning, and then we were off, too.

Th weather was perfect - moist, not rainy, with sunshine developing as the morning wore on. Given that we were walking, there was no particular hurry, so we enjoyed the view and the novelties (e.g., walking along the express lanes of I-90, or marveling at the traffic-free streets, given the road closures), stopping to cheer others along the way.

Big props to my friend Jeff Lechtanski, who rocked the house today with his first-ever full marathon (that's Jeff and his wife Barb in the picture). Jeff beat my time from Portland by a good five minutes (you rule!).

Walking a half is a much, much different experience from doing the full run. For starters, attire is much easier: I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and fleece, as opposed to technical clothing. Plus, I was packing a backpack for 'eventualities' (e.g., CLIF bars, umbrella, baseball cap, shorts, Kleenex, digital camera, cell phone, you name it). This made things far more relaxed, casual, and fun.

If you're so inclined to do one of these things, I heartily recommend it. (And if you're interested, you can check my Flickrstream here.)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated November 27, 2005 5:29 PM.
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Out For A Stroll

OK, I'm off to do the Seattle Half Marathon Walk! It should take a little more than three hours to do the course, and I've even got company: Elaine's decided to come along.

More details (and, hopefully, great pictures) later.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated November 27, 2005 6:29 AM.
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November 20, 2005

Running Out Of Time

I've decided not to run the Seattle Half Marathon next weekend.

This makes me sad, but in the end, it was just too much running with too little time to train. I picked up the rather nasty cold that's been going 'round, which took me out of exercising last week (and out of work on Thursday and Friday). That, coupled with the shin-splint recovery, means I'm lucky to run 6 miles at a crack right now, let alone 13.1. I'll still be out on Sunday (wave if you see me), walking the course and cheering for my friends. My pal Jeff Lechtanski's doing the full marathon (his first - go, Jeff!) and Jeff Smith's on deck to do the half (also his first - go, Jeff!).

So. The balance of this month (and all of next) will be spent in intensive training to get my body back in shape. Lechtanski and I both put our names in the drawing for the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon next June. If we get in (the first drawing's on 12/15), that's going to be the Next Big Goal for me. I did Alcatraz in 2000, and would love to blow my old time out of the water.

UPDATE, December 2, 2007: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated November 20, 2005 12:07 PM.
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November 13, 2005

Starting Over

Hoo, boy, am I out of shape.

I'm finally back running again. And I'm pleased to report that, while my shin's fine (it feels great, actually), taking a month off from running has caused my overall conditioning to atrophy dramatically.

I started with a treadmill run on Tuesday (2.8 miles - a Greenlake lap), and that felt energizing and encouraging. But I got out for a 5-mile lap around my neighborhood yesterday afternoon, and it, well, didn't "kick my ass", exactly, but it certainly took it out of me. Part of that's explained by the hills, but a bigger portion simply comes back to my cardio system, which has plainly gotten used to kickin' it on the couch with a big bag of Doritos.

This morning, Jeff and I did Greenlake proper, and that was OK. Not great, but OK.

I've got 14 days until the Seattle Half. While I'm still planning to run, I'm seeing that it may be more of a run/walk thing to finish. Ack.

(Didn't I just do a full marathon? This is embarrassing.)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated November 13, 2005 10:07 AM.
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October 21, 2005

It's A Hyperextended Shin Splint

I just got home from seeing the doctor at Group Health about my leg.

First, the good news: it's not a stress fracture.

Now the bad: it's a hyperextended shin splint.

Basically, running Portland freaked out my right shin splint (I can just imagine the poor little thing, going "AUUUUGHGHHHGGGHHH!! What the HELL is going on?? MAKE THE BAD MAN STOP!!!" as I was hitting mile 24), and now it's getting revenge. It's inflamed, it's painful, it's pissed, it's going after my family when it's done with me.

(In other words, it is just like Giant Squid.)

The course of treatment is straightforward: lots of ibuprofen, regular ice (the doc actually recommended Ace-bandaging some ice cubes to my shin, wrapped in paper towel), and taking it easy. Certainly no running, but walking is OK (and thank God for that, because this lack-of-exercise thing is driving me scatty).

Could've been worse, and for that I'm grateful. But still - this might well kick me out of the Seattle Half Marathon. We'll have to wait and see. Drat.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 21, 2005 4:37 PM.
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October 17, 2005

Takin' It Easy

Despite the ice, elevation and care I administered last night, my leg-pain shin-splint thingy is continuing to bug me. Phooey.

So I phoned up the consulting nurse at my intrepid HMO, and gave her a rundown of my symptoms, the chronology of events, and so on. She came back with the usual advice ("rest it, elevate it, put some heat on it, and for God's sake stop with the exercise"), and now I'm out of action for a few days. If things don't get better by Friday, they're gonna want to take a look at it.

The good news is that it doesn't sound like a stress fracture; instead, evidence points to muscle tears. Here's hoping.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 17, 2005 6:56 PM.
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October 16, 2005

Medic!

I thought I'd escaped from Portland without any injuries. Turns out I was wrong.

I mean, yes, I was a little sore on Monday, and I've yes, got a nicely-healing scab along the small of my back (where my food pack was resting for the duration of the run). But overall, I felt fine. A small amount of pain in my right shin, but fine.

Until yesterday, when I walked a bunch of errands all over the city, and inflamed my shin-thingy. So two ibuprofen, water, swallow, repeat. No big deal. Right?

Well, it's kind of a big deal. Richard, Jeff and I hit Greenlake this morning, going out for my first run since the 26.2. I got out, found myself favoring the foot, and almost made it to the first mile before I had to stop.

Dammit!

I'll give this a couple more days of stretching and tenderness, and then I'm going to get it checked out. I suspect it's some kind of pulled muscle, and will take care of itself.

In the meantime - big props to Jeff, who's officially started his training for the Seattle Half next month.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 16, 2005 12:15 PM.
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October 10, 2005

Portland Marathon: The Recap

Right off, I'd like to apologize for not posting any of the marathon nitty-gritty until now. My last post was dashed off right as I returned to my hotel room, and before I showered.

After the shower, I didn't much feel like doing anything. That "not feeling like doing anything" turned in to "bone-dead tired" by the time I made the drive back to Seattle. By the time I reached my door I was sore, beat, and ready for a) a beer and b) bed like you cannot imagine.

So. The marathon.

The starting gun was at 7 AM, which, working backward, meant that I needed to be up around 5:45. Fellow marathoner Keith Pranghofer (UW MBA, Class of '06) split the hotel room with me, and we both Did The Right Thing by crashing around 9:30.

Despite our early bedtime, I couldn't sleep. I never sleep well before these things, and I tossed and turned until at least 2 AM (mental note to self: pack a bottle of wine before the next marathon; consume if necessary). Which meant I was feeling pretty disoriented by the time the alarm went off, and the circles under my eyes led a few people in the hotel lobby to believe that they were being invaded by large raccoons.

Keith and I hooked up with Char and Jason at their hotel, headed to the start line, and split up (Keith's like The Flash, or something, so he migrated forward to start with the faster runners). About 8,600 people do the run, so downtown Portland was packed - throngs of people everywhere, meeting and greeting ... as well as bouncing up and down to stay warm.

And then the gun went "BANG!", and we were off. (Course map available; opens in a new window.)

The first few miles of any run are warm-up; in this case, we simply couldn't go too fast because there were far, far too many other people packed 'round us. So the three of us stuck together, watched out for one another, and eventually started to break up (I'm a bit faster - those long legs) around mile three.

And then I was on my own.
It was excellent.

The first 18 miles of the run were outstanding. Heck, I blew by the half-marathon marker like I was on fire or something, just feeling light and fast and happy. There's a hill up to Mile 17 - we go across St. John's Bridge, from the west side of the river to the east - and even that was pretty simple. I ran across St. John's, over and down, hung a right at the end, zoomed past the 18-mile mark, and hit trouble smack in the face.

I don't know what it was, exactly - my left quad started to get crunchy, so certain strides felt like it wouldn't support my weight. And my stomach started hurting in a big, big way - the very thought of food was enough to make me profoundly queasy. I now recognize that I simply got too hungry - I should have eaten more, and earlier - and as a result my system was freaking out on me. But at the time, I was just trying to manage the weirdness, which meant I was consigned to run/walk the balance of the race.

This was a trick. Sometimes I could sustain running for a good mile; other times, I'd walk three times in a mile. But as I scarfed gummy bears and Red Bull from the volunteers (gummy bears, being pure sugar, were about the only thing I could get in to my bod), my energy came back, and I found myself able to sustain some momentum. I just tried to listen to my body, keep my focus. It helped.

As we came across Steel bridge - from the east side of the river, and back to downtown, I passed the Mile 25 sign and was suddenly taken with a huge surge of emotion - not pride, exactly, but almost ... relief? A sense of accomplishment, certainly, a sense that it was almost over. I actually teared up a bit, wiped my eyes, and kept on it.

And then I was off the bridge, looping around to the right, and running along Front Avenue, down toward Salmon, and eventually I see the "26" marker. It's at the turn on to Salmon, which means I'm processing, "Holy crap, I'm almost there" right at the moment I'm making a 90-degree turn, and then I'm seeing the huge, balloon arch that signifies the finish line.

And then I'm tearing up again, my emotions bubbling out of my fatigue, but I focus, put it in to my legs, and pick up as much speed as I can.

I'm running my ass off down Salmon, and then I see that the balloon arch I thought was the finish is, in fact, some kind of cruel mirage, so I make a left with the course and see another balloon arch, close - but this time, with "FINISHER" emblazoned across it. So I dig deep, push on, and cross the finish line at 4:21:35.

I was, to say the least, spent. Just ... done. My body had been pushed to its outer, outer boundary of performance, and that, as they say, was that. I staggered forward, had my timing chip clipped off my shoe by a nice volunteer, got a blanket around my shoulders, received my medal, and tried to find bananas.

If you ever feel tempted to do one of these things, one thing I'd like to call out is the importance of music. My iPod Shuffle has a wicked sense of humor - it's forever serving up the right song, at the right time, even if it seems - on paper - that the song would be potentially disastrous. As I was running between Miles 25 and 26, it brought me ... butt rock. No, really. Like, Kiss' classic hit "Heaven's On Fire". And then, as if it were out to prove that Big Hair was the solution to all running problems, it served up Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" as I was coming in for the finish. I should like to point out, too, that the Leppard cut was synchronized perfectly so my final footfall in the race was in beat with the last sound of the song.

(I know it sounds totally hokey, but it helped.)

One thing - a big, big thanks to everyone who wished me well, encouraged my training, and generally put out the good karma. It helped. Really, it did. And thanks, too, to Ravi, who cheered for me at Mile 2 and Mile 26 ... and that Mile 26 cheer was exactly what I needed. (He also took the photo associated with this post - it was in front of my hotel, after I'd had a bit to eat and had left the marathon finish area.)

The question I've been asked most often is, "So ... gonna do another one?" and I suspect I will. I'm not planning it anytime soon (like, before Wednesday), but I now know I can go sub-four hours if I want to. I'll have to train differently (more training at distance, for example), but it's posssible. And attractive to me, in a way I can't even express.

Tonight, though, I'm still exhausted. The bod's OK, but I need to sleep. Thankfully, there's more beer in the fridge.

I can't believe it's over.

UPDATE, November 10, 2006: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 10, 2005 7:28 PM.
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October 9, 2005

4:22:53

DONE!
Just over four hours, twenty minutes - unofficial time. I'm exhausted. More soon...

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 9, 2005 11:52 AM.
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We're Off!

It's time! Keith and I are out the door for the marathon. (Can I just tell you how jittery I am right now?)

Details will be forthcoming ... assuming I don't kill myself on the course.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 9, 2005 6:13 AM.
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October 8, 2005

Arrival

I've arrived safely in Portland. The Hilton (aka "Packet Pick-Up Central") is a madhouse, but I got my race number (#965), timing chip, obligatory goodie bag, and am now back at the hotel (pictured), chewin' on the free in-room DSL goodness.

Char, Jason, Ravi and I are going to dinner in about two hours with some of their friends and family. In the meantime, I'm catching up on my e-mail (it's amazing what kind of pileup you get when you're outta town for a few days, huh?).

I'm excited.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 8, 2005 4:08 PM.
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Off To The Races

I'm back in Seattle, a night's sleep under my belt (in my own bed!), and I'm prepping to head down to Portland for the mararthon. The starting gun goes off tomorrow at 7 AM.

I feel ... great. On the flight home last night, I wound up sitting next to a couple of guys - one's an environmental consultant, the other's a recently-retired pilot for Alaska Airlines - who had done the distance-running thing. As we sat there, chatting about the feeling of accomplishment you get from doing one of these things, this stupid smile spread across my face, and I found myself really looking forward to tomorrow morning.

For the record: I don't give a damn about my time. I'm likely to be "around" four hours, but whether that's 4:01:00 or 4:30:00 doesn't matter. I'm out for fun and for the thrill. I just want to finish: style comes later.

The Shuffle's been filled with great music; the Clif Bars, Bodyglide, and band-aids are packed; I've cut about six hours' of podcasts and music to CD (the rental car, sadly, lacks an iPod interface).

OK, I'm off. The hotel has broadband, so I'll blog when I can.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 8, 2005 9:31 AM.
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October 2, 2005

T-Minus One Week To Launch

Welcome to October! The marathon's just a week from today (in fact, a week from right now I ought to be just getting back to Seattle in the rental car).

Richard, Jeff, and I were supposed to get out and do three around Greenlake this morning, but the weather was nasty, blustery, and tending toward monsoon-ish (plus, it turns out Jeff was up until nearly four in the morning dealing with his kids' flu, poor guy). Hence, Richard and I wound up doing our first run of the new month - (a fast) six miles - on the treadmills in his building's gym.

Now, I hate treadmills. Hate 'em, hate 'em, hate 'em. They're like hamster wheels for bipeds. They're boring. I mean, you're basically bouncing in place for an hour or so, stewing in your own sweat and trying to fool yourself into believing that you're running to somewhere when, in fact, you're patently - obviously - not.

(I actually find myself mapping well-known routes in my mind as the mileage on a treadmill clicks up - "OK, I'm coming around the bend down there by 24th and Interlaken, and getting ready to run up the hill..." - it's lame. Laaaayyyy-hhhhhh-em.)

Sadly, this last week of training is going to be all-treadmill, all-the-time for me. I've got two days' worth of MLR training on Monday and Tuesday, and then Tuesday night I'm off to SeaTac to catch a flight down to San Francisco for Web 2.0 on Wednesday morning. With the travel and all, that means I'm gonna be finishing out my training on the hotel's treadmill.

There's a karmic ... something ... in here, I just know it.

Total, final September mileage was 108.2, by the way - shorter than expected, mostly due to having to miss a run or two here and there. No worries or regrets. I'm ready for this thing.

OK, off for some hot tubbin'.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated October 2, 2005 7:10 PM.
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September 24, 2005

Faster

Richard and I did three around Greenlake tonight, for a total of 8.4 miles. (And it was totally no big deal. Which blows my mind.)

So now that my marathon training is tapering down, my thoughts have been shifting to "what's next" in terms of my training. I'm very goal-oriented, so it helps me to have some external, objective, benchmarkable thing to work towards. In 2005, I set out to run the St. Patrick's Day Dash, the Capital City Half Marathon, and the Seattle Marathon. Although I changed out Seattle for Portland, I've been on target. And it's helped, you know? It's not always easy to get out and run on some idle Tuesday afternoon. Having the specific goal is an excellent impetus to get my ass off the couch on days like that.

So, while I still have some distance left in me this year - I'm putting together a group in Planning to do the Seattle Half, and will also train with (and go cheer for) Richard when he takes on the DisneyWorld Marathon in January - most of my long distances are behind me.

So my thinking is ... go faster.

I've never been a fast athlete. I swam as a kid (and in high school), but was always the guy doing 250-yard events and above. If you needed a guy to do the 1650 Free, well, you called me. Part of this was my (ahem) bouyant shape (ahem) at the time - sprinters tended to be lean-n'-mean, and I was more, uh, not.

Running is different. I'm 6' 2", and almost half of me is leg. Lately, Richard's been getting annoyed with me because we'll start out on a run together, and I'll gradually pull away. It's stride, mostly, but Char noticed it, too, on our 22-mile run last weekend. And tonight, the Shuffle served up Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out For A Hero" and I found myself really working to not start streaking around the lake. Music helps, yes?

So. My times have been going up. I was running about 6 miles an hour (10 minute miles) when I first got out around Greenlake; tonight, I did three times around in 1 hour, 15 minutes - that's a little better than a 9-minute mile. My suspicion is that, with some training (and lacking the need to keep my reserves for longer distances), I can shave my times down pretty quickly.

My new goal, then, is to be able to do Greenlake three times in less than an hour. (And I think I can do this before the end of the year.)

For those not so handy with the calculator, that's 8.4 miles per hour, or a touch slower than a 7-minute mile.

Look, I know I'm not going to be beating any Kenyans any time soon, but I gotta know if I can do it.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated September 24, 2005 9:23 PM.
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September 17, 2005

22

As of today, my marathon training has peaked. Char, Jason and I ran 22 miles on the Sammamish River trail, starting at Marymoor and heading North to (and past) Bothell Landing. At 11 miles, we turned around and came home.

Big, big props to Richard, who provided support on his bike. He carried the Gatorade, CLIF bars and first-aid kit, kept our mileage on track with his GPS, and, most importantly, made sure nobody got hurt. We could not have done a run of this length without him. (I'm indebted, man.)

So ... the run. It felt awesome. Going out was light and fast, with the three of us chatting nonstop. We did the usual water-n'-bathroom breaks along the way (the Eastside half of the trail has much better restroom support), and buoyed each other.

Coming back was harder, especially as we got into the clinch. I'd only planned to do 20 as my high-water mark (it's all Hal calls for), but Char's program said 22, so 22 we did. Toward the end, I found myself cursing those extra miles ... but I now know, with absolute certainty, that I'm going to be able to finish Portland.

Post run, we hit the Red Hook in Woodinville. And there we were, sitting outside, salty and stinky, the sun on our backs, swilling IPA, munching nachos, and making obligatory "OOF!" noises as we moved (or, God forbid, tried to stretch) our sore parts. It felt ... wonderful. We'd earned it.

It's all downhill from here, baby!

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated September 17, 2005 3:48 PM.
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September 10, 2005

One Month To Game Day

As of yesterday, the Portland Marathon is one month away.

I'm oddly calm about the prospect of running this thing. As much as I was jittery and nervous before my first half-marathon, I'm serene, confident, and comfortable with the prospect of running 26.2 miles. Part of that is simply the familiarity with the body that comes for running three or four hours straight; part of it has been the dawning realization that, in fact, running gets easier the longer you do it.

That's not to say I expect the marathon to be easy, per se; rather, I expect that it's going to be a bit of a slog, especially toward the end. My friend Matt Minas has a saying: "The race doesn't start until Mile 16." I suspect he's right.

So I've got a (shorter) long run tomorrow of 14 miles, and the following weekend I'm doing 22 with my friend Char. (She works in Boise, but is doing Portland as well, and happens to be in Seattle that weekend ... how lucky is that?) And that'll be the longest distance I'm running before Game Day itself. Tapering starts afterward.

Fun fact: adding together all the mileage I've done (and am slated to do) this month, my total mileage for September will be nearly 127. (Wow!)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated September 10, 2005 3:04 PM.
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September 4, 2005

Eighteen, Sort Of

Marathon training continued today with an 18-mile run.

Unlike last week's 16-miler, which took us all over the city and out the Burke-Gilman, Richard and I decided to just do an out-and-back along the Burke for today's run. The distances clicked (map available); starting at the U Village and going to Log Boom Park is 9.2 miles; the return trip had an easy landmark that parked us right at 18.

And so off we went.

Overall, it felt great. We hit Matthews Beach for water, and bought much-needed Mile 8 Gatorade from a Texaco in Lake Forest Park. After reaching Log Boom we stopped, got water, used the facilities, stretched, and then turned around and headed back in to the city.

Richard's hip started bothering him partway into the run, and, coming back, it finally flared in one of those Godzilla-esque "BODY MUST BE OBEYED!" roars, which meant we had to (gingerly) walk it in for the last 2.5 miles. So we're back, and exhausted, and dehydrated, and Richard is swearing he'll be riding his bike for my 20-miler in two weeks' time.

Bike or no, can you ask for better friends than those who are willing to run for three+ hours just so you've got company (and safety backup) while training?

(You rock, dude.)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated September 4, 2005 4:40 PM.
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August 31, 2005

One. Hundred. Miles.

Tonight's the end of the month (remember, folks: rent's due), and I'm proud to say that I capped a pretty intense, crazy four+ weeks with an amazing run at Greenlake. Richard and I got out at 7:30, right as the weather was downshifting from 70-some degrees into cooler (saner) temperatures.

So I went three times 'round, and it was wonderful.

It also pushed me to a total of 100 miles for the month.

One of the weird byproducts of marathon training (or, I suppose, any stretch goal) is that you start by climbing small mountains, and then progress on to larger ones. If I'd thought - seriously thought - about what kind of crazy wackjob would get out and actually put 528,000 feet on their tennis shoes in 30 days, I'd never have joined the club. But here we are, and here I am, and I'm amazed.

Clearly, it wasn't as far as I'd originally planned. Hal called for 124 this month, and I chose to kick back on my vacation, chill with family and drink beer. Honestly, that's OK (the beer was good, and the company was better) with me.

But still. 100 miles!

I'll also say this: I'm astounded, at some level, that I can just walk out my front door and run for 73 minutes. In fact, it goes beyond that ... I found the run energizing, and not tiring; I'll undoubtedly be up until midnight.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 31, 2005 10:13 PM.
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August 28, 2005

Sixteeen!

I am pooped.

Richard and I went out for a 16-mile run this morning, heading down Capitol Hill to Eastlake, then across the University Bridge, over to Wallingford, up to (and around) Greenlake, then south to Gasworks, and, finally, east along the Burke-Gilman to that overpass off Sand Point. We then turned around, and (finally) ended at the Jamba Juice at the University Village.

After 16 miles, lemme tell ya: Jamba Juice never looked so good.

(You can see a map of the route if you're so inclined; it's the same one I'd intended to do back on the 20th.)

The final tally, according to Richard's GPS, was 16.08 miles, and about three hours. We didn't move fast, but we did it. This is now my personal-best distance record, too.

It's great to be back in the saddle with the running. Taking a week off when I was lounging in Spokane threw a big 'ol wrench in my training, and I've had a hard go of it since coming back. So to be able to get out and do 2/3 of my marathon distance (and feeling, honestly, pretty good at the end) is a huge deal for me.

Now that I've showered (the pipes are gonna corrode from all the salt, I know it), the rest of my day consists of curling up on my couch with "Freakonomics" and seeing if I can wrangle some time on Cintra's dinner calendar.

I'm gonna be soooooooooore tomorrow...

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 28, 2005 1:45 PM.
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August 13, 2005

Not Quite There

In my mind, this post was originally called "Personal Best"; it talked about the fantastic, triumphant 15-mile run I had this morning out in the hills of Spokane.

Sadly, 'twas not to be. I crashed - utterly, totally, and completely - at 11.4 miles, and that's all she wrote. Thank God my Dad was doing the sag-wagon business, handing out water and whatnot every couple of miles, or I'd have been really hosed. (I still had several miles to go to get home.)

The first few miles were the usual - not great, but not bad; the body warming up. Then I hit mile 3, which marked the beginning of a mile-long, 400-foot climb up a winding hill. Again, not too bad, and when I got to the top I had one of those spectacular, top-of-the-world views that inspires people like Katharine Lee Bates.

The middle part was awesome. Fast, light, fun. Miles 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 - no problem.

And then, the wall. I can't explain it. But I knew right then that it wasn't as much about willpower (every run has bad patches), but instead I was just ... over. I was sluggish, lethargic, starting to stumble. I made it to the next water stop, and that was it.

I'm too tired right now - just wiped - to be mad at myself or anything, which is, on its own level, healthy.

Try, try again. Right?

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 13, 2005 10:48 AM.
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August 8, 2005

Google Maps Coolness #2,499

So Allie posted an innocuous little link in the comments earlier today:

Compliments of Metafilter - you are so going to love this:
http://www.sueandpaul.com/gmapPedometer/
Google + Maps + Pedometer

So I followed the link and checked it out ... and I have just two words to say: the first is "Holy"; the second is "Cow."

The "pedometer" Web site uses Google Maps (like everything else, it seems) to let you measure off mileage for your walks or runs. You start anywhere you like; double-click on a point of origin, and then double-click again at your next turn or whatnot. Google maps the route as a line, measures the distance, and even - wait for it - computes your calories for you.

This is so unbelievably cool, I can't even tell you.

As my distances get longer and longer, finding appropriate runs gets tricky. One option is to find a course I know well (e.g., Greenlake) and then start banging out the multiples. Unsurprisingly, that gets pretty tedious pretty fast.

Another option is to drive a hypothetical course in your car (or on your bike), measuring out distances. This is quite time-consuming, however, and tends to reduce one's willingness to explore new routes.

So this pedometer site is a godsend. Seriously - if you're a runner or a walker (or just a curious urban dweller), check it out.

One final cool thing - after you've built a route, the site lets you capture the thing as a URL, and even works with TinyURL to collapse it down into something manageable. So I have a 16-mile run coming up on the 20th, and I decided to map it out. Starting from my place, I'll run to Greenlake, run around the lake, then head south to the Burke-Gilman, and then finally East along the trail until I hit a good loopback point, finally ending right behind U Village.

And, as a picture is worth a thousand words, you can check it out for yourself.

Will the wonders of the Google Maps API ever cease? Seriously. This is blowing my mind.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 8, 2005 6:38 PM.
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August 6, 2005

Saturday Morning Run

Given that my running mileage is going up, Saturday morning has been officially designated as a Long Run Zone in my calendar. To me, it means that I need to prioritize the training - lace up my New Balance, get out the door, and put in the distance, before making plans to do anything else that day.

So this morning, I did just that. I hit a 10-mile loop, stepping out my front door and heading down the hill, across the University Bridge, and on to the Burke-Gilman. I turned around near the Great Harvest Bread, and came back, detouring by the UW Medical Center and zipping across Montlake, and finally back up hill along 24th.

It felt awesome, one of those runs where you'd swear you were running on air. The weather was perfect, - about 62 degrees, slight wind. And now, I've eroded my remaining mileage for August down to 103.

There's still a part of me that can't believe I'm able to do this.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 6, 2005 12:02 PM.
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August 3, 2005

117 Miles To Go

Portland is now 66 days away.

August is going to be a pivotal training month for me. I've talked before about how success in long-distance running is - for me, at least - all about "building the base" - namely, getting out on the damn road and beating feet from Point A to Point B, over and over again. It's not sexy, but it's essential. And by the time the event rolls around, your body is used to the effort.

So I took a look at the Hal Higdon schedule, put the various runs in my calendar, and then (for fun) added up all the mileage I'll be putting in this month.

The total? 117 miles. Which seems like a lot, really. It's kind of hard for me to take in. The good news is that it was 124 miles as of a few hours ago. I banged out a (nasty, brutish, but un-short) seven-miler around 4 PM.

Nibble, nibble. One day at a time, right?

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated August 3, 2005 7:04 PM.
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July 30, 2005

At Last, A Run

Running has been a source of frustration for me over the past couple of days. I've got the marathon coming up in a little more than two months, and Hal says I should be doing a 13-miler this weekend to stick to my training.

Yeah, right.

Trouble is, I'm in a new town and I don't have the first clue about where the "good" running places are (e.g., relatively safe, bathrooms and water fountains available). My original intent had been to run for a bit along US 95 ... but, as it happens, there's no sidewalk, and the traffic is moving waaaay too fast for me to feel like that's a good idea. Plus, nobody looks for pedestrians.

Plan B, then, was to run on the hotel treadmill. But it turns out they don't have one. Grr.

So last night, we're all out at the Rehearsal Dinner, drinking wine and chatting and I'm whining about my profound Lack Of Run to Chris, who blinked at me, took a step back, and semi-stammered (in that, "how on Earth did you get in to an MBA program, again?" voice), "Uh, the Centennial Trail is just a few blocks from here..."

Oh.
Musta missed that in the tourist guide.

Coeur d'Alene's Centennial Trail is a bike/run trail that, much like Seattle's Burke-Gilman, stretches for more than 25 miles. In this case, you can go from Riverfront Park in Spokane to downtown CDA, and beyond. Astounding.

So at 7:15 this morning, Matt Minas and I put in a good 6.5-mile run along the Centennial. It was glorious. Sunshine, mild temperature, good shade from time to time, and a SPECTACULAR view of the lake. We made it from downtown to Steamer Point, and then did a U-turn and came back to the car.

I feel about a bazillion times better than I did 24 hours ago. (What is that with exercise, anyway?)

The long run is scheduled for Monday. It seemed ... silly to shag myself out with 13 miles when I need to be on my game for tonight.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated July 30, 2005 10:00 AM.
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July 14, 2005

The Obligatory Half Marathon Snapshot

A number of my fellow Product Planners were at the SEAFAIR Half Marathon on Sunday; Ravi and Wendy ran the half, while Lori and Jeff did the 5k.

This morning, I got an e-mail with some great race-day pictures taken by Wendy's husband, Eric. The one below was shot while we were all in the bullpen, waiting for the race to start.

Left-to-right: me, Wendy, Richard, and Ravi.

What a great day. (And thanks, Eric!)

UPDATE, November 11, 2007: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated July 14, 2005 4:23 PM.
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July 10, 2005

2:04:19

I did it!

The half marathon is over, and I shaved a whopping 21 minutes off my time to finish in 2 hours, 4 minutes, and 19 seconds (unofficial time). I managed to stay strong the whole way, and even got a bit of a wind at the end. The race was nigh-perfect: the weather cooperated, the terrain was great (hilly, but good) - heck, even my iPod Shuffle seemed to be doing its damndest to provide a steady stream of great running music ("Poundcake" by Van Halen? "Only The Young" by Journey? "Space Age Love Song" by Flock Of Seagulls? Great cuts, all.).

Coming over the finish line, however, I was definitely done. I got my medal, removed my timing chip, and basically had an IQ of about 80 until I got my blood sugar back to normal levels.

Big props to Richard, who, despite getting sick, pulled in around 2:10, and to rock-star Ravi, who banged it out in 95 minutes.

Next stop: Portland! 90 days and counting...

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated July 10, 2005 1:46 PM.
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July 3, 2005

Be Like Lance

Yesterday's run was awesome. Richard and I banged out 11.2 miles at Greenlake; it felt smooth and stable. I honestly can't believe the difference from the last time.

I've heard athletes mention that sustained physical performance - be it a run, basketball game, whatever - is purely a mental game. For a long time, I didn't know what that meant. But as I've begun running longer distances - particularly yesterday - I've figured it out.

It means you can't talk yourself out of the thing you're doing.

About two weeks ago, I read an article in the PI about this guy, Jim Trout, who is an ultra-endurance cyclist. He's biking across the country (3,052 miles) while sleeping about 60 to 90 minutes a night. These folks get frickin' crazy on their rides - hallucinations, the works. And then I read this:

'He said that his vulnerabilities will be lack of sleep and "battling that one demon that says ride off into the ditch to break an arm. I have to fight that instinct."'

I've become a little more familiar with that demon of late. I'll go out for a 9-mile run and my demon says things like, "Why not stop? You've already done 6 miles. You're not feeling really great right now. And your ankle kinda hurts. Go ahead and quit. Nobody will ever know - actually, your friends will be impressed that you ran at all."

It's seductive. I'm an imperfect person in an imperfect world with imperfect weather and imperfect running conditions, and it's so easy to give myself a pass. I've found that the only way to beat the demon is to not think about the totality of my effort (the total number of miles I want to run, or how fast I want to run them, or whatever), and instead simply be "in the moment" - focused only on the few steps in front of me, listening to my music, watching birds, whatever.

I mention all of this because I got my hair cut yesterday, and my stylist, Jeff, was chatting me up about Lance Armstrong. Lance is doing his seventh - and final - Tour de France, and Jeff was talking about the sheer number of people who are gunning for Armstrong, and what an astounding amount of willpower and drive it must take for Lance to get up in the morning, put on his training shorts, and test himself. This is a guy who has already broken world records and could easily rest on his laurels. Instead, he's chosen to paint a big, fat target on himself and throw himself into the void one more time.

Lance, I'm sure, has crappy training days too. He just doesn't let them stop him.

So yesterday, at one or two points on my run, I had to remind myself: "Be Like Lance." Just keep going. Because I really, really, want to run the SEAFAIR half in 2:10:00 or less.

And I think, based on yesterday, that I've got a great shot at it.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated July 3, 2005 10:42 AM.
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July 2, 2005

Hal Higdon's Marathon Training

The half marathon is a week from tomorrow, and I'm feeling really, really good about it.

I've been far more consistent about my running of late (it's amazing what kind of time dividends you get after graduation), and Richard and I are going out for a nice, long, two-hour run today.

With the upcoming race in hand, my thoughts are, naturally, turning to the Portland Marathon in October. My friend Matt Minas has strongly recommended the Hal Higdon training program for the run (Matt used it when he ran Vancouver in May).

I've spent time on the Higdon site, and, given that this is my first marathon, it's pretty clear that the novice program is the most appropriate. It's an 18-week cycle, so, working backward (and giving myself credit for the half marathon shape I'm in right now), I'll be in Week 6 as soon as the Half is over.

A formal training regimen is actually pretty exciting. Thus far, I've been making it up as a I go, just trying to get my runs ever-longer and more consistent. The prospect of having something I can commit to that actually works will take a lot of the stress and uncertainty out of the equation.

OK, off for the run.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated July 2, 2005 12:49 PM.
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June 10, 2005

Half Marathon In One Month!

The SEAFAIR Half Marathon is one month from today. I can't believe it's snuck up on me so fast.

My runs are getting better, easier, and longer. One of my harder-core running friends keeps telling me, "It's all about the base" - which, translated, means, "You have to get off our frickin' couch and go for a run on a regular basis, or you'll flame out and die on race day." She's totally right, too. The more I've been running, the more fun running has become.

And, as you can see from the above graphic, I've added a "Countdown" widget to my Dashboard to keep me pumped...

UPDATE, June 2, 2007: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated June 10, 2005 9:19 AM.
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May 28, 2005

Too Hot In The Hot Tub!

Damn it's hot!

I went out for a 9-mile run this afternoon, but was defeated by the 80-degree heat we're experiencing here in Seattle. I got to 6 miles and knocked off ... and then promptly drank 10,000 gallons of water to get my hydration back to some semblance of normal.

AccuWeather is reporting that the heat will decline over the next few days, and we might actually get some showers come Tuesday. I hope so - I'm really not a "heat" person.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 28, 2005 2:05 PM.
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May 25, 2005

podSwapping

Richard and I went running yesterday at Greenlake.

One thing that pops out when going around and around the loop is that everyone seems to have a music player. Lots of iPods, of course, but also CD players, AM/FM radios, tape decks, you name it.

I've noticed iPod Shuffle is becoming more popular, and Richard's noticed it, too. While cooling down, we got in to an interesting discussion about the Shuffle as a new-music discovery device. The idea is simple: when you see someone else with an iPod Shuffle, stop and trade. Just pop the Shuffle out of its armband, exchange with the other person, pop their Shuffle into your armband, and keep going. Bingo! An entirely new set of music. Life is, indeed, random.

We're calling it "podSwapping."

It makes a certain amount of sense, right? The Shuffle is a simple little solid-state device that holds a few hundred songs. Since the player is loaded randomly by iTunes, the owner of the Shuffle often doesn't even know what music is on it. By podSwapping, you can literally get an entirely new music collection to try out and listen to. If you discover new music you like, then you're home free. And if the other person has a Britney fetish, well, you can flash-format the player when you get home.

There's precedent - Disney geeks do this sort of thing time with their pin trading activities. And the Shuffle, given that it doesn't support iSync, has no personal information in it. It's just a stick 'o music.

There are some challenges, of course. First, you have to make sure you're swapping with someone who has an iPod Shuffle of the same capacity. Second, there's some (low) risk that you'll get a bum Shuffle from someone else (e.g., the internal battery is freaky or something). Third, given that each Shuffle has a unique serial number, all this trading will give Apple's product-registration scheme fits. And finally, the way that iTunes handles a "foreign" Shuffle is to (unfortunately) offer to format it. This means that you can't look at the list of artists and songs to find out the name of something on the Shuffle that you really like.

But, still -- it seems like there's something to this.

Thoughts?

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 25, 2005 11:46 AM.
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May 18, 2005

The Running Man

After Sunday's performance in Olympia (official final race time was 2:25:40, putting me #749 out of 882 participants ... yikes), I've decided to continue my training and focus on another half marathon. After chatting with some folks about what's good (and what's not), the winner is the SEAFAIR Half Marathon on July 10. It's local (Bellevue), it's after graduation (yay!), and I've got six weeks or so to get super-solid on my distances.

(And, you know, they have medals for finishing. Souvenirs are a Good Thing.)

I'm also going for the Portland Marathon in October. After looking hard at doing Seattle (my original plan), it became clear that a) the weather was likely to suck and b) I might want to go see my family over Thanksgiving weekend. Plus, I know a bunch of folks from the MBA program (yo, Minas!) who are planning to run Portland, which will make training that much more fun. Portland wins.

Long runs start May 28!

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 18, 2005 10:11 AM.
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May 15, 2005

Game Day

The Half Marathon is over. I'm back in Seattle, tending to my blistered toes and aching bod. The race was a lot, lot harder than I expected it to be.

First of all, the weather wasn't terribly cooperative. Richard and I got up at 6 to get ready; at the time, we had clouds and a bit of a breeze. By the time we got out the door at 7, a frickin' monsoon had erupted (No, really. The water was coming down so hard it was bouncing. I half expected to see Neo and Agent Smith going at it in the street.)

Then, as suddenly as it came, the rain went, like Mother Nature suddenly remembering that she'd forgotten to turn off the sprinkler in the front yard or something. So now we've got humidity, puddles and a lot of anxiety about what the next two hours will bring (do I pack a rain shell? Or is it done raining for the day?).

So we kicked off at 8 AM, and the run felt OK. I wasn't moving too fast, but neither was anyone else. As the race progressed and the crowds began splitting up, I found myself wishing for my Shuffle (the Powers That Be had deemed no headphones allowed ... grr). Instead, I took the terrain as it came.

But I never settled in to any cadence. I had to consciously fight to keep myself moving, keep myself focused, and I couldn't drift off into that "runner's high" I've experienced so often while doing training runs. My speed suffered, too: by the time I got to mile 10, I had put in an hour and 43 minutes (by way of comparison, I did my 11.2-mile run in 1:48.)

And then, at Mile 10, I just stopped. And walked. And tried to run again after catching my breath, but couldn't get kickstarted. So I walked, and tried, and walked and walked and eventually, at Mile 12, got it in gear and finished as strong as I could. My final (official) time isn't posted yet, but the clock at the finish line read 2:25:43.

I'm glad I did it, but I clearly need to get out and do more of the longer training runs. I need to build my core fitness into something much more robust than what I've got now. My doing a marathon at this point is pretty much unthinkable. Richard and I are casting around for another half to do here in a month or so (and preferably, we'll find one where they give out medals - Olympia didn't!).

So I'm home. And moving ... gingerly.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 15, 2005 4:01 PM.
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May 10, 2005

FOUR!

This afternoon, I managed to break my previous distance running record by going four times around Greenlake - 11.2 miles. And while I wasn't fast (1 hour, 46 minutes, 17 seconds), I did complete it without killing myself. Whoo-hoo!

(I have just emerged from the shower, having transformed myself from the Walking Salt Lick to something a little more recognizably human.)

I have to confess that this was a lot harder for me than my three-lap experience a week or so ago. My body started to get stiff as I rounded the bend on Lap 3, and from there it was a constant fight to find the right cadence, the right balance, to keep myself moving in a smart way. And, as it always seems to, the HRM really saved my life by helping me conserve energy and get a good sense of what was going on in my bod.

So. Sunday is Game Day. I think I'm ready.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 10, 2005 5:53 PM.
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May 8, 2005

One Week Left

The Capital City Half Marathon is one week from today (in fact, one week from right now it'll be over!).

I'm feeling good about the run - much, much better than I would have believed. My distances are getting longer, my stamina is up, and I'm actually enjoying the runs themselves far more than at any point in the past. I don't know what the "X Factor" is, be it technology (Heart Rate Monitor + iPod Shuffle), personal motivation, or what, but my regular runs have become something I actually look forward to (shudder).

I'm excited!

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 8, 2005 4:57 PM.
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May 1, 2005

THREE!

I just got home from a triumphant, three-times-around Greenlake training run. New distance record! And faster than I expected: 1 hour, 20 minutes, 50 seconds.

(I'd do a happy little dance, but I'm a bit too pooped for it at the moment.)

The half marathon is two weeks from today, so my feelings of euphoria and triumph will quickly give way to terror by tomorrow. Simple math, right? Today's distance - 8.4 miles. Half marathon distance - 13.1 miles. Gap - 4.7 miles.

So, yeah. A bit more running between now and then, huh?

The iPod shuffle was a big help, of course, but I also want to call out how big a fan I've become of heart rate monitors while training. I have been using a HRM as a governor on my speed - basically, when my heart rate gets into a certain zone (about 160 beats per minute), I try to keep it there by varying speed and cadence. It's made an enormous difference in my stamina and ability to "go long" on some of theses runs.

Finally, big props (and thanks) to my buddy Jeff, who made the drive from Bellingham to go running with me. Jeff did two laps around the lake and then watched pretty people go by while I finished up. (Thanks, Jeff!)

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated May 1, 2005 3:56 PM.
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April 5, 2005

Shuffle 1; Distance 0

Richard and I hit Greenlake today for our usual Tuesday run, which afforded me the opportunity to try out the new Shuffle.

It rocks!

Sadly, I didn't get as far tonight in distance as I'd have liked. The music helped, but it wasn't enough.

Ah, well. There's always Thursday.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated April 5, 2005 5:14 PM.
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April 4, 2005

Do Not Eat iPod Shuffle

After my killer run on Saturday, I have come to understand much, much better the target market for the iPod Shuffle. It's me.

When you're out running for an hour, having tunes along for the ride (in my case, yes, it's "Waiting For The Siren's Call" by New Order ... I'm boring) helps take your mind off the relentless pounding of joints and ever-harder huffing/puffing. I did my run with my trusty, third-generation iPod in tow, and found it to be a little tedious by the 45th minute. The 'pod skipped once, but mostly I felt the thing to feel like it weighed about a million pounds in my left hand.

(Actual weight: 5.6oz. I'm a pansy.)

So today, I decided to take advantage of my ever-shrinking student pricing window to get a 1 GB iPod shuffle. This thing is smaller than a pack of gum, and weighs basically nothing.

Of course, the deal I made with myself is that I have to actually get out and run laps around Greenlake a lot more. That half marathon is t-minus five weeks and counting. Tick tock, tick tock.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated April 4, 2005 2:28 PM.
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April 2, 2005

Twice Around!

Greenlake is one of Seattle's gems, a lake located north of Downtown (see the map here) that's bordered by a 2.8-mile walking/jogging/rollerblading trail. Several years ago, when I first started running (I was training for the 2000 Escape From Alcatraz triathlon), Greenlake was The Place To Be because it's beautiful, safe, well-supported (bathrooms and water fountains about every mile or so) and populated by pretty people who are also out walking/jogging/rollerblading.

So today, I went out for a training run for the Capital City Half Marathon, and managed to do two laps around the lake. Victory! I haven't run this far in years, and, while I wasn't setting land-speed records, the run felt great.

Of course, now I'm home and trying to read my ENTRE coursepak, and I'm pooped. Bleah.

But twice! Around! The! Lake! That's 5.6 miles - about half the distance I need to run on game day. I've only got 5 weeks left for training, but I'm suddenly very optimistic.

UPDATE, December 2, 2007: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated April 2, 2005 2:44 PM.
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March 13, 2005

Top O' The Morning To Ya

Richard, and I got up this morning (along with about 15,000 of our closest friends) to do the St. Patrick's Day Dash - a 5k run from Seattle Center to Safeco Field, down along the northbound lanes of the Battery Street Tunnel and the Alaskan Way Viaduct.

It was glorious.

The run itself felt great - 3.5 miles, no worries - but the killer part was the spectacular view off the viaduct and the sheer diversity of people doing the run. There were all manner of people - young, old, men, women, runners and non. People were laughing, smiling, wearing all kinds of green and cheering for one another. We finished in about 30 minutes (not a stellar speed, but fine with me), feeling energized and pumped up.

My next formal run: Capital City Half Marathon in May!

(And big, big, big thanks to Mary, who handled our support and logistics!)

UPDATE, March 3, 2007: One or more of the original hyperlinks on this page expired, and has been dereferenced. The hyperlinked text is now underlined.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated March 13, 2005 10:47 AM.
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January 3, 2005

My Ass Is Out Of Shape

One of the big themes we give to people considering UW is that success in business school is all about tradeoffs. You can't have it all. If you really want something - career success, quality family time, washboard abs, an ability to sling Java with the Bill Joys of the world - it's going to require an investment of time, and, given that time is fixed at 24 hours a day, time for one thing will necessarily come out of time for another.

This is a long-winded way of saying that I'm deeply out of shape.

The first casualty of the b-school experience is not sleep. Nor is it your social life. Instead, the first casualty is exercise. With rare exception, business school students cut the gym once the work starts piling. By the time winter quarter rolls around, well, there's a roll around most student waistlines.

In keeping with both a New Year's commitment and a general desire to get back to my fighting weight, I went out running tonight. Hoo-boy. I did a mile, but I did it slowly. Real slowly.

My goal is to do the St. Patrick's Day Dash in March, the Olympia Half Marathon in May, and the Seattle Marathon in November.

At my current rate, the St. Patrick's Day event should be renamed. I'm not dashing anywhere.

Posted by Gavin Shearer. Last updated January 3, 2005 6:06 PM.
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