Scuba diving was cancelled today. The weather wasn’t bad, but apparently it had been windy earlier so the silt had gotten stirred up. Visibility was low. Which is probably for the best as I was up way too late yesterday.
I’ve been trying a bit of an experiment. I’m avoiding caffeinated beverages in the afternoon and evening. Caffeine has been hitting me harder and longer lately, so I’d like to see if I sleep better without it.
Of course sleeping is hard in the cold rooms. They aren’t that cold, and we keep the temperature fairly high, but it is still cooler than the blazing outside. So when you come into the room, it feels like it is freezing. Plus 25 celsius is not freezing. (Literally or figuratively.)
Yesterday a bunch of friends arrived, so the resort is picking up. They were still tired from the trip, so tonight should be even better. But until then, it was nice to see everyone. We did the catch up.
A good friend from Germany brought his “best friend” and she seems fairly nice and I’ve enjoyed being with her. It is making the trip better. We had a nice lunch today, (where one of the hosts was insistent that he should have my Death Race shirt. He does look like he was built to run it.) and I learned a lot about Germany’s view on the world economy. This is why these people make the resort better; you get intelligent conversation from interesting people. In the Swinger’s section I would be surprised to find non-drunk dialogue.
But I did meet a nice woman who was clearly inebriated, but was still rather touch-feely. She was a young widow, but her friend had assigned her husband to chaperone.

Went snorkelling again. I was debating it until I asked myself the crucial question: do I want to do nothing or something? So off I went.
There is a gorgeous girl who was snorkelling yesterday as well. She is a performer who did a great Lady Gaga impression last evening. (Wish she didn’t have a boyfriend.) She is phobic about fish so she gave me her bread with the warning that sometimes they bite.
I don’t think they do, and they haven’t in the past. But when you have a swarm (not a school) of fish around you, all after your bread, your brain starts thinking of piranhas. The fish even follow you around after you have fed them. Hardly surprising.

Went diving. The Gallery; maximum depth 50 ft. over a 35 minute period.
Before we even went in, there was a dolphin swimming around the boat. It didn’t hang around, so I never saw it while I was in the water. As usual, it took forever to equalize, but the decongestant I took before probably helped. If the pattern holds, the next time I dive, I shouldn’t have any problem equalizing. It just seems to happen on the first dive of the season.
Although my left ear does feel a bit off right now. I blame the bad ear infection I had back in the early ’80’s.

Last night the music was too loud (darn kids) so I wandered down to the dock. They had a bright light shining into the water, and I saw some fish floating around. I watched them for awhile. I had my legs dangling over the side until I decided that that was a horror film cliche, and it would be better to be safe than sorry. And then a large manta ray swam right under me.
After awhile there was a big splash to my left, at the edge of the light. I saw that a large group of fish had leapt out of the water in all directions. And looking at the area, I thought I saw a small triangle of fin floating just above the water. Shark? Well there goes another cliche.
But after half an hour of watching, I think I determined that it was just the manta ray floating close to the surface. It’s flapping bits would go above the waterline briefly, looking like the stereotypical shark fin.

I am typing entries on a computer in my room. This way I don’t have to try and remember what happened later when I have access to my blogging account. I previously kept detailed notes on a notepad, but typing is much faster. And I can then copy/paste it. I wouldn’t want to fall behind in my journaling like some people. (You know who you are.)
The second advantage is that when I do finally get around to posting these, I have a second chance to edit myself. There are some things that I write that are better erased after a good night’s sleep.
Heck, I don’t even know if I’m going to keep all of my last entry.

Today was fairly restful. The real fun should begin tomorrow. Because I didn’t stay up too late, I got to bed at a decent hour, and so I was up at a reasonable time. I had a good breakfast instead of the dregs of the leftovers. I signed up for scuba tomorrow, and then spent the morning talking to friends on the beach. I’ve gotten sun, but it doesn’t look like a burn. Hopefully I can keep this up. Sun tan lotion applied sensibly.
In the afternoon, I went snorkelling. It wasn’t where I expected it, and was around the corner of the island. They dropped us in the water and we got to swim around some small cliffs and into a protected cove with a small beach. The leader showed us a live conch and white sea urchin. Then we swam through a tunnel to the open ocean and spent some time there. I had brought along some bread and watched the fishes eat it. On the way back we were shipwrecked. Really, the engine broke and another boat had to come and rescue us five minutes later. But shipwrecked sounds cooler.
Afterwards we got back, I took a shower and talked with my roommate before I escaped and found some new arrivals I knew. Then it was just spending time with friends for the rest of the day, with an interruption for dinner.
One of the new arrivals is a woman I met last year. She was very nice, and although married (husband isn’t here), I have, in my mind, put her on a pedestal as a perfect person. And I have to concentrate on separating the fantasy from the reality. I don’t even know how much she likes me, other than that we’ve corresponded over the past year a bit. But she seems friendlier with other people, so it hurts a little, but that is my fault.
I’ve got to be a better, more socially intelligent, person.

I arrived in Jamaica safely. I didn’t sleep much on the second leg, and did get through two movies: Larry Crowne and Bad Teacher. I was sure that my luggage wouldn’t make the trip. Fortunately, I was wrong. It just took forever to get out of the aircraft.
I met some old friends on the bus to the resort. It was nice to catch up with them. Although the rest of the people on it were loud and constantly drinking. And the lady I was sitting next to was very insistent that a woman is never wrong. I declined to be baited by that statement.
Once I got to the resort, I found my roommate had already arrived. I think he may have left an impression with the staff because everyone remembered that there was someone already in my room. I only found out who he was when I sneaked a look at his luggage tags. Oh, I know him. He’s been here every year and is quite well known. He is very… intense. Also, very talkative; he likes to talk about himself and what he is doing. You may need to chew a leg off to be able to escape. But, he is also a driver of activities. With him in the general vicinity, there should always be something interesting going on.
The first thing I did after I dumped everything in my room was to go get something to eat. I went to the little cafe and wolfed down some Jerk Chicken and fries. Very satisfying. Only after did I get around to locking valuables in my safe.
I took a rest in a hammock before joining some people I knew. I drank a bit: mimosa, dirty banana, screwdriver. And while enjoying their company I saw my first real shooting star.
I’ve seen falling stars before, usually the Perseids, but those are just streaks of light. This one was blazing across the sky and I could see it separate into several pieces before disappearing. Very cool.
After awhile, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I found a nice gazebo with a mattress and snoozed for 45 minutes. Then dinner, and a nice long talk with a friend from Newbridge.

I’m not really sure how the experiment turned out. During the flight I don’t recall falling asleep. But now that I think about it, I don’t really remember much of the flight. I think I did fall asleep, just not too deeply. I am surprisingly awake right now.
I’m debating taking another Gravol before the next leg of my flight, but then I’ll miss all the entertainment options that Air Canada delivers to my seat.

So, yeah, I’m off to Jamaica again. As usual, I have time before my flight, and the Edmonton International Airport has free wireless, so I might as well update my journal. Oddly, it doesn’t have free electricity. The plug I’ve tried to use is doing nothing for my computer.
I’ve gone through security, and was randomly selected for additional screening. (Although it seemed half the people were being randomly selected.) The big machine, which will ensure I never have children, seemed to find something on my back. No idea what it was, but after prodding me there, they let me through. False positive I guess.
I’m trying something different this flight. It is an hour before it leaves, and I’ve taken a Gravol. Not for motion-sickness or nausea, but to hopefully put me to sleep. According to my nurse friend, the primary effect of Gravol is to put people to sleep. The anti-nausea is just a side-effect. I’m already tired, so hopefully the sleeping powers of the pill will put me out so I can actually have a restful night. Instead of the pretending-to-sleep which seems to be my usual lot in flights.
Once I’ve boarded it will be four hours to Toronto, then a four hour layover, then four hours to Montego Bay.
Hopefully everything goes according to plan.

I attempted to get confidence before the halloween party I went to. I drove there, and then guzzled as much vodka as I could before entering; vile stuff. And as I waited in line, I could feel myself getting light-headed. That’s a good sign!
Unfortunately that feeling went away after only half an hour. Which shows I’ll need to consume more alcohol, and keep consuming it, while I’m on vacation until I feel comfortable socializing with people again.
I usually enjoy halloween the most of all the nights of the year. It is the one night I can go out to a bar and socialize. Because I usually have a cool costume so people will talk to me. And I can always talk about their costumes. I guess it’s the internet effect; it’s easy to be confident when you are behind a mask.
The other preparations could have gone better as well. I wasn’t looking forward to going out (never do) so I didn’t start getting my costume ready until it was late. I have a good demon costume, but the last time I really remember wearing it was in 2007. Well, it hasn’t aged that well. Or, probably I haven’t.
The suit itself is feeling tighter, and since it was tight to begin with so that the wings would stay on, I didn’t think the wings would actually fit. They even felt rather floppy too. I decided to go without. The vampire fangs look like they’ve yellowed; ditched them. I couldn’t be bothered to put on any makeup to accentuate the demonic.
The contact lenses I usually wear; I wasn’t sure about them. I have two pairs, one from before the laser eye surgery and one after. I assumed I was putting on the post-surgery pair, but I was pretty unfocused when I put them in. I still think they are the non-prescription, but they are just old. I’ll try and find the other pair.
I think I’m going to have to face facts and try to get a new costume.

I saw the movie Due Date. I think it was chiefly financed by the TSA.
In the movie, due to a minor incident, a man gets kicked off a flight and put on the no-fly list. You could say it is just a wildly improbably occurrence that is just the set up for a bad comedy.
Or is it?
The TSA only really functions when the American population are living in total fear of terrorist attack. Or fear of the TSA itself. Face it, if you have spent hundreds of dollars on a flight, and probably even more for the vacation, the last thing you want is to be kicked off your airplane. And if you decide to exercise your constitutional rights, what are the odds that that will happen.
If the TSA keeps people scared, they’ll shut up and do whatever they are told to. And then the TSA can say that no one is complaining and keep racking in massive amounts of government money for security theatre.

Last week I decided I wanted to vote for the premier. There wasn’t an official election, since it was only the leadership of the Alberta conservative party that was up for grabs. But the leader of the Alberta conservative party will be the leader of Alberta; probably for several years.
Let’s face it, after the next official election, the conservatives will still be in power. And probably the one after that as well.
Unfortunately, to vote in this election you have to be a member of the conservative party. It only costs five bucks.
The entire time I was buying my membership, the words “member of the ruling communist party.” I know conservative is the opposite of communist but the feeling is the same. It feels like a third-world country where you have to be a member of the ruling party to do anything. If that government collapses, then all the members of the former ruling party are looked at with suspicion, even if they got membership just so they could get a teaching job.
So now I’m a card-carrying member of the conservative party. Well, the card hasn’t actually left my car. So I guess my car is a card-carrying member.
At the line to actually vote, I was behind a woman dressed in a Fringe Festival sweater. “You don’t look like part of the conservative base.” She seemed embarrassed.
I’m fiscally conservative, but rather left in my social views. But I hope I will always think before voting, and not just go with a party line.
Then again, the person I voted for wasn’t one I had researched, but had been told by a friend I trusted that she was the best candidate.
Sheep.

On Saturday I drove out to Innisfree where a friend had purchased some land next to a lake. It was totally undeveloped, but he and his wife went out regularly in their camper to spend time there. They have an eventual goal of putting up a cabin.
The place is filled with “No Trespassing” signs, and I guess you could say it is a gated community. But that is all due to the gas well there. It does allow a nice place to park.
From there you go into the woods, where they have been working to make a clearing amongst all the poplar trees. So I was put to work chopping down trees, cutting up branches, and piling up wood. The wife did the burning, but she got a little zealous at it and put too much wood in the fire pit. The coals burned all day, and probably still are.
I didn’t head out as early as I could have. It wasn’t the best weather in the city, but it was nice out there. A little cloudy, but an acceptable temperature. Once you got working, it was perfect.
It was nice to do some physical labor. It’s a change from using your brain at your job. And you get to see immediate results from the work. And I only once hit my leg with the machete. Thankfully, I never did with the chainsaw.
The wife gave us a goal of getting to a certain fallen tree. That helped me a lot. My sister describes me as goal oriented, and I’ve come to accept that. So I focused on that, and we got there. Unfortunately the chainsaw ran out of gas while we were cutting it up, but I still think of the mission as accomplished.
The clearing is now bigger.
We had a dinner cooked on the firepit, and then sat around the coals until it started raining. (Hopefully that will put them out.) By then it was pitch black and we had to use the flashlights to get out. As always happens in those situations, you don’t realize how much smoke you’ve breathed until later.
I drove back to town that night.

In my younger days I was always on time. Well, actually I was usually early, but you get the idea. These days I’m not quite as reliable. I like to think my punctuality was beaten out of me. Too often it has happened that I show up on time for some event, and then spend long periods waiting because other people didn’t have the same standards as I had.
I was punished for being on time. So you learn to adapt to not be punished. But today I fell off the wagon and showed up early.
In other words, my company had an outing to the Edmonton Corn Maze. It’s a nice place, with various farm stuff happening around it as well. The maze is divided into two sections. Each section has five parts, marked by signposts. These signposts basically mark mini-mazes. You have to hit all ten signposts, which means you aren’t searching for the exit, but the next signpost. You are given some questions, and if you answer correctly, you get a hint as to which direction to go.
When it (finally) started, I stayed with the group. But that changed eventually. What happened was that I started paying attention. When I was going with everyone, my mind shut off. But then I started going ahead a bit, and I concentrated on paying attention to where I was and what paths were leading where. Note the paths not taken, and be aware when you think you see another path that is probably the other end of that untaken path. I had more fun that way, I think. But isn’t the point to get lost, and make mistakes?
On the second phase, I stuck with a group of coworkers who had arrived on time. We got to the sixth signpost, and we were pretty sure of our answer (which was wrong) so we headed left. Eventually, all routes looked like they headed back to the signpost, except for this one which was over a lot of fallen corn. But there weren’t any ribbons blocking it, so it looked like a valid route. However, after passing it, we promptly found the ninth signpost. Okay, we had missed the seventh and eighth.
This is where you get to note various personalities and get to make stereotypes. I, the software developer, decided to go back and do the maze properly. The point wasn’t to get out as fast as possible, but to play the game. All the others were marketers and sales, who did want to take shortcuts; tired of pushing the baby stroller. Later, I found the program manager made sure his people/children were happy and left the maze after only the second signpost.
I would go again, but I used a GPS along the way so that I could see the results of my wandering. I’ve started at it and compared it to the aerial photo of the maze to figure out where I went.
I think I know the maze too well now.

Corn Maze, a photo by ad_havoc on Flickr.

I’ve been feeling good lately. There are a number of reasons possible for this.
Now that I’ve finished my Death Races for the year, I have more time for other pursuits. I’ll be going to Jamaica in less than two months, to a place where there will be many pretty women, and I want to look good. Running does not make me look good (it doesn’t hurt though). I need to bulk up my upper body, so on Tuesday I went to my gym and tried to put it through its paces. My muscles still ache, but I have an endorphin rush. Those usually only last for a few training sessions before my body adapts. In a week, my training will do nothing for me. I should enjoy it while it lasts. For most of Wednesday morning I was feeling powerful.
I’m employed again. This boosts my self-confidence. So far the job has been good, and I like my co-workers. And this is a job where the boss isn’t constantly stressing me out. I hope I’m doing a good enough job that they want to keep me.
I’m smiling more. I come into my work with a good attitude, and I seem to like smiling while there. Don’t know if that is happening outside of work…
It’s nice having confidence. I think it is allowing me to talk to pretty girls easier. Although that might be a subliminal order from the hypnosis session I had in Jamaica last year. I’ve probably already said too much…
Doesn’t make asking them out any easier, but I think I may have given up on that.
All in all, feeling good.

So, in one of those sleep deprived hazes I started think about the mountain lake on Deathwater Island within Narnia; as chronicled in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Okay, the water turns anything it touches into gold. Lord Restimar died when he dove into it.
I was thinking about that in particular, and was wondering if he would have felt any pain when his hands turned to gold before his head. Would the nerve pulses travel faster than the speed he entered the water? Would his brain feel it.
But then, his brain never touched the water. It was in his head. Then I thought some more.
Gold, as far as I know, doesn’t let water pass through it. So really, it should have changed the surface of his skin and his hair into gold. Probably painful, definitely unhealthy, but if he never opened his mouth, that should be it. Gold is also somewhat flexible if it is thin, so I would think he would be able to swim his way out. Possibly blind?
Or we could just say it was magic.

I have found an area of self-improvement for myself.
I don’t drink, but I have friends who do. Because of a party, my fridge is full of beer. Hopefully it will get drunk at the next party I have.
Last week, a friend said to me, “I don’t think you have enough beer in your fridge.” His wife told him not to encourage me. At the time I was heading towards a stash of beer that wasn’t in the fridge to go put it in, until he said “[eallen] can recognize sarcasm.”
I can. I often employ it myself. But I also act dumb and pretend I don’t. This may be funny a couple of times, but it is no way to live.
I should never purposely act stupid. I know I do, and it is something to work on. But it’s such a broad area that it is hard to really tackle it. But if I can focus on stopping the I-don’t-recognize-sarcasm habit, I think I’ll be able to make headway.
Hopefully my friends will point out if I start backsliding.

The Edmonton Gorilla Run was yesterday.
I had a friend who insisted that she get a picture of a gorilla in a tutu. I didn’t protest much (or at all) so I went and picked up a tutu from the halloween section of Value Village. It was a women’s size (as opposed to what?) so it was a little tight. But I could still get it on over the suit.
The biggest problem with the outfit initially was that it shed. Little tufts of gorilla hair are now roaming my condo. (I haven’t done an analysis of the car yet.) But once it was on, it was very enjoyable to wear. Probably more than the law allows. (Don’t judge me!) I decided to wear my foot gloves instead of regular running shoes; they looked more like gorilla feet. (Although I’m debating going to buy a pair of gorilla feet to make it a complete costume.)
I was actually hoping to run into neighbours when I left my place, but the hallways were completely empty. No one to freak out.
At the event there were probably about 200 gorillas milling around. It is probably good that I was wearing a tutu, because I can’t see how you would be able to tell people apart. Honestly though, girls are very sexy when they are in gorilla costumes. I don’t think I’m a furry. The story that I’m stinking to is that because so much is covered, you have to leave a lot to the imagination. And the imagination is always better than the real thing.
The gorilla suits were fairly good for the event. Or cheap? Either way, they let the breeze go right through them. Which was important, considering how hot it was.
When the run started, I kept my mask on. That lasted about a kilometre and a half and I’m surprised it was that long. My peripheral vision was shot, so I had to call out to anyone trying to pass me to make themselves known. After that, I only put it on when I saw a course photographer. And even then, putting a mask on, while running, with poor vision was not the safest course of action.
I did my best to keep the pace-banana in sight. I could have been faster, but the initial route was over a rocky path. And through my foot gloves, I felt everything. It didn’t take long for me to feel water pooling in my rubber gorilla gloves.
A cute girl I had been talking to, also wearing foot gloves, caught up with me. She hadn’t run in a year due to an injury, so I made it a mission to get her to the end. Encouraging words, keep pace, stop with her for water. I think she placed in the top three for women on the race. Some photographers from the newspapers came up afterwards asking for our names; I haven’t seen my picture in either paper, but I haven’t looked online yet.
At the end, they were handing out bananas. The lemonade was more needed. We hung out for awhile, watching the other gorillas come in. There were some really good costumes out there. One had a belt that held up a pole with a little plane flailing about. He had broken chains and a barbie doll to complete the imagery. There was a fashion faux pas where I found someone wearing the same costume.
All in all, it was a great run. I would recommend it to people. Even if they only walk it.

I got injured back in February. That destroyed my plan on running many ultramarathons this year. I had planned to do two in May, The Death Race in August, and the Lost Soul in September. At the time I had only signed up and paid for the Death Race. I didn’t sign up for the others because I wasn’t sure I would be able to run them at all. It was a bad injury.
I got better; enough to do the Death Race. But I didn’t sign up for anything else.
In that time, one of the ultras moved from May to October. I could in theory have done the three ultras needed to get the Alberta Triple again.
But I am somewhat glad that I didn’t sign up for the Lost Soul. It is tomorrow, in Lethbridge. That is a desert environment, and it gets even hotter in the coulees. And the forecast is for 30 tomorrow.
I would melt.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to run that 160km event again, but not under these conditions.
Maybe next year.

I went to a game of paint-ball today. It was a company team-building exercise.
Apparently there are no paint-ball facilities in the city, so we had to commute well outside. But it was a nice outdoor setup, with interesting fields of battle.
I don’t know how it went for the team-building though. I don’t know if I feel closer to my boss when I was trying to get him to cover me while I was pinned down my enemy fire. He didn’t help me. It would have probably helped if I knew his name though. Hey, I’m still new at this company!
There was one guy who came with his own equipment, including a vest (which I think was bulletproof) and fancy gun. He claimed to not be good at paint-ball, but he was in marketing so we assume he was lying. (He was.) I did hear him say, after a couple of games, “I forgot how much fun it is to shoot people.” (Or something like that.) I’m voting him most-likely-to-snap.
I would recommend it to a friend, but I would also recommend eating a lunch beforehand. I think I was running out of energy towards the end. But I frequently forget to eat. My bad.

For years I’ve been going to the Running Room on Wednesday evenings. Initially it was a great place. I always had a group to go with and, because I could schedule it, I would go regularly. There were groups that would go at specified speeds for a decent run.
But for the past few years, it has gone downhill, and not in the fast running way.
Nowadays, it is catering only to the running clinics. Now don’t get me wrong, the running clinics are great for learning how to run or to improve your distance. But once you have “graduated,” the Running Room doesn’t seem to want you around anymore.
I showed up today, and could not find any group to run with. It was only clinic runs that were going 5km or under, or doing hill training. I just wanted to go out for a decent run with friendly people. This is a constant problem, where I don’t know if going to the Running Room will give me people to run with. When I expressed my concern to the staff, they didn’t see it as a problem. They almost seemed to think it was great that you could show up and not have an idea as to what you will be doing.
But if every group is going too short, too slow, or too hilly, I’m going to have to run alone. Why do I even go to the Running Room then?
When I took off on my own, as luck would have it, I came across Beto and his group. Beto is one of the best runners in Edmonton and he now works at United Cycle where they have their own running groups. Their groups are organized by speed, not clinic. I immediately turned around and ran with them. It was great!
I’m going to start going there on Wednesday evenings.

I believe in the power of healing through running.
I’ll be the first to admit that the Death Race can be damaging on my body. Since I ran it, I’ve had various aches and pains. Mostly these happen while I’m running, which has meant I am running less and taking it easy. Letting my body recover. There was one pain that was happening in situations not related to running though. My ankle, which shouldn’t be surprising after the nasty accident several months ago. Mainly, it would hurt going down stairs.
Well, after my reasonable 16km run on Sunday, it hasn’t been bothering me.
So what I’m taking from this is that I should be running more often. I haven’t been doing the Wednesday evening runs, and I think that needs to change.
There is also an interesting race that I HAVE to sign up for. The 5km Edmonton Gorilla Run. I think it is for some good cause or something; I don’t really care. Because you GET A GORILLA COSTUME! Who can’t use a gorilla costume?

Let’s look at my result compared to previous years.

For each point on the race, the top number is the overall time to hit that course point, while the bottom number, in italics, is the time to reach that point since the start of the leg. For purposes of ranking (among other things) I am male and aged 30-39.
The rankings also don’t tell the whole story.

This was a bad race for me. As I’ve previously mentioned, there were a number of things going against me. But my family got me up to Grande Cache, and we got into Tent City. The day we arrived it was breezy, so there weren’t any mosquitos to bother us. And it didn’t rain overnight. But the weather prediction for the next day was a hot day and a cold night.
I was still under a bit of a cold that drained energy from me and I really noticed it on the first leg. I was slower than I have ever been before. That might have been the mud from all the rain this year. But once I got out of the woods, it was dry enough, but I think I was going too fast; trying to make up for lost time. That would probably hurt me later.
One of the most fortuitous things I had done was to prepare for wet conditions. MEC gave me the advice of Gore-Tex socks. And they were great. With them on, I didn’t have to try and avoid all wet spots. If my shoes got wet, my feet would stay dry and not end up in blisters. This really helped me get through parts faster. I could run through mud instead of trying to figure out a dry path. Valuable time was not lost.
The second leg wasn’t too different from previous years. It was muddier at the bottom parts of the slugfest. At the bottom of one of the valleys, I found a man wading in a mud pool up to his shins. Apparently he had lost his shoe in there and was looking for it. After I left him, I think I heard him say he had found a shoe, but it wasn’t his.
I finished up the leg, slower than usual, but still standing. Years ago, when I had first signed up for the Death Race, the form had asked me to put some biographical detail in. They probably weren’t going to vet it, so let’s have some fun. For three years they had completely ignored it, but at this transition point, when my mother is in the crowd the MC loudly announced that I was an adult film star. And he seemed to be enjoying it very much.
Leg three always seems to do me in. It is claimed to be the easiest, because it is all downhill. But by this time of day I’m hot, tired, and the trail is uneven. When it is over, I’m completely knackered. And I made it only half an hour before the cutoff time. Part of me was thinking of quitting. But I had made myself a promise that I could not decide to quit. I could only fail to make a cutoff.
I did do something different on that leg that I’m thankful for. At the start, while climbing up the first big hill, I took a look behind me. The Smoky River valley was spread out before me, looking gorgeous. I do believe I saw Hell’s Gate for the first time.
Leg four is a good leg for me. It is considered one of the toughest, but I guess I have a good attitude about it. That and the stair training seems key to doing well. But an hour and a half in, it started to rain. I wasn’t really dressed for it, but it wasn’t bothering me that much. It was keeping me cool. And that is especially important if you are trying to scale a 6986′ mountain. It only became an issue when I got to the very top and had to do some running along the spine. Then the wind was blowing and I was getting cold. And night was falling.
But once I was done on the spine, I went down the other side and the wind wasn’t that big a problem. Unfortunately, it then started to really rain. I kept moving, so it wasn’t too bad. But I was getting cold and miserable. Puddles were getting bigger and bigger. When I got to the Ambler Loop station, I found Beaver Dam Road, previously a lovely dirt road, covered in muddy puddles. The run down it was not especially pleasant.
And to add insult to injury, there was the bridge over Malcolm Creek. It was having maintenance done on it, so there was construction equipment on it. Cars could still use it, but someone had decided runners couldn’t. That was just malicious. We had to go down into the creek and wade through the water to the other side. This of course filled my nice Gore-Tex socks with water. At least the transition was only a few hundred metres further. We did our best to dry them out, and the new socks seemed to make it possible to continue. The rain had died down a bit while I was at the transition. Thank goodness I was still convinced to ignore that and I put on a rain jacket and a toque. I would need them.
Leg five was muddy. The first part, before the river crossing, has always been slow for me. If something goes wrong in this area, I have no idea how they would get someone out. And now it was slippery muddy too. So despite the narrow trail, with many roots acting as tripping hazards, I have to fear any small decline. I remembered the treacherous climb after the third creek, that is difficult even in dry conditions. It didn’t get better in wet.
After the river crossing at Hell’s Gate, I climbed the hill and tried to run so I could get a good time. Or at least reach the end before the cutoff. But since it had been raining constantly all night, there was mud everywhere. My plan to run as much as possible was actually a dangerous idea. I did eventually fall behind someone who seemed to be good at picking routes around mud puddles and was running, so I got myself some breathing room. But about seven kilometres before the end I was having a lot of trouble running. And my fingers were getting cold. I think my body was shutting down! Maybe I hadn’t been eating enough?
Fortunately, I knew I had made it. I knew I had no one to compete with. I knew I had nothing to prove. I walked the rest of the way. Many people passed me. I didn’t care. There was the sign that said “Hamburgers in five kilometres”. Those sound good, but I kept walking. In town I saw a familiar face from earlier in the run. She had been on a relay team and said she had “Run leg two yesterday”. Leg two did not feel like yesterday to me. It felt like today, and a lifetime ago at the same time.
I only started running a few hundred metres before the end. I hope, for once, I didn’t have a pained expression as I crossed the finish line. And of course the MC was still happy to announce my adult film star occupation. Apparently at the same time my sister was trying to chat up a cute Sergeant in the military.
THE HAMBURGERS WERE A LIE!
There wasn’t any food at the end. I was forced into a shower and then we went to a restaurant. But that took an hour and I could have really used the food faster.
But I’m done. I have run four Death Races. And I get to lord it over my friends who have only run three. For the past few days I’ve been convinced this would be my last one. But doubts are starting to form.
I probably need help.

If you want to help, I can really use you on my support team next year.

Tomorrow I leave for Grande Cache and then to do the Death Race on Saturday. I hope I’m ready. The signs haven’t been good. Let’s list them, shall we.

1. My friends aren’t doing it as well.
2. My knee got badly hurt in February.
3. My hotel decided to cancel my reservation.
4. Two months ago, I twisted my ankle bad enough that it still has a bit of pain.
5. I came down with a cold a couple of days ago. I’m pretty sure I caught it last Friday, and I could see it coming almost immediately.

All this will make victory that much sweeter.

Now that is an interesting thought. Maybe the reason I feel so out of it, and have trouble thinking, is not because I have no carbohydrates in my system. Maybe it is because I have nothing in my system.
Yesterday was a weird day, considering I was up until 4:00 AM the previous night, and I didn’t really sleep in as well as I could have. So I was running on lack of sleep; that doesn’t help matters. But I also didn’t eat much. When your meal is going to consist of things you don’t want to eat, you don’t want to eat. QED.
I even had trouble forcing breakfast down my throat this morning.

I really want a glass of orange juice.

Two weeks ago I ran 60km. I did it. There were some very long hills in it, so a lot of walking was involved.
The next day, my family went for a 12km hike in the mountains. It felt exhausting and I ached.
So doubt continues to accumulate for the Death Race.
My ankle is still feeling a little off. Since there is nothing you can do in the last two weeks before a race to improve your fitness, I’ve decided to take time off from running. Hopefully my ankle will recover and I won’t have any issues on the actual race.
I noticed I had been accumulating a lot of other injuries. My arm started aching after a day of heavy mousing. My neck got a huge crick in it after a tense meeting. I thought those were the excuses, but I think it might be something else. I’ve been taking a lot of ibuprofen to help with my ankle’s inflammation. This has been going on for over a month. That can’t be healthy. I decided to stop. Many problems started clearing up.
This weekend is also the start of the Atkins part of my carb loading. It hasn’t been going well. No sweets or breads or cereals or juice or anything that makes life worth living. I’m pretty much confined to meat, eggs and cheese.
Yesterday I went to a surprise engagement party for a friend. He was going to propose to his girlfriend as a surprise with all his friends there. That sounded lovely. It was only after we all arrived that we found out we were the ones surprised. It was a surprise wedding. They were skipping the public engagement and going straight to getting married. It was a pleasant surprise, and apparently saved them a lot of money.
The big problem was that they served cake, fruit, cupcakes, crackers and all sorts of delicious goodies that I could not eat. I could only nibble some sausage and cheese.
It is getting hard to think.

Last week, I think I reached my goal of running further than I drove in a given week. I can’t categorically prove it; I didn’t track how far it took to drive to and from the grocery store. But I can’t believe that it was more than four kilometres. But let’s look at the facts. I drove approximately 20km, because I barely left my condo. I ran approximately 23.5km. This doesn’t feel like a victory. I didn’t do much of either. Victory is mine, but it is a bitter taste.
So, today I’m going to run 50km. Well, that is the plan. I wanted to do that three weeks ago when I got my ankle injury. It might be better if I let my ankle heal a bit more, but I’m three weeks behind schedule and I need to be Death Race ready.
My plan is to go down Millcreek ravine, cross the river, head towards River Valley Road, cross into Hawrelak Park, continue on past Fort Edmonton Park, Terwillegar Park, and then across the Anthony Henday Bridge. Then up to Cameron Heights, and follow the suburbs on the north side of the river until Laurier park and then back to Hawrelak park. At that point I’ll play it by ear to get up to the 50km. I’m going to have to avoid some of the steep or narrow trails that I want to do so I don’t risk my ankle. Plus Edmonton is rather wet, so let’s stick to pavement as much as possible.
If all goes well, I’ll be back well before four o’clock and I’ll post that I’m home.

I nearly moved to Seattle. I suppose it still might happen, but not today.
I had been putting my resume out on job boards and, out of the blue, I got phoned by a contracting firm. They had a position in Seattle for a major company that they thought I was a good fit for. I didn’t think much of it, until a week later they wanted me to come down for an interview.
The thing is, I had never heard of this contracting firm. And I was supposed to pay my own way to Seattle. I was more suspicious than excited. I didn’t accept right away and instead tried to get in contact with the big company to confirm that this was legitimate. It all checked out, so I spent $700 to buy a plane ticket to go down to Seattle for the day.
I flew down on a Thursday before the crack of dawn. I got into my rental car and drove to the interview. The campus was large and it felt like a fun place. Not really an office building. The contracting firm told me to sound excited, and that was easy. I tried to sound excited for everything, even if I didn’t always feel it.
I had two interviews. The first one was where I was given some programming problems and had to write pseudo-code on a whiteboard to solve them. It was actually fun, and I did learn a bit. The second interview had me go over an existing interface and I had to describe all the ways I would create a tool to help test it. That didn’t go as smoothly, but I still did my best. I got the impression that this is what I would be paid to do if I got the job.
Afterwards I briefly saw a friend and then jetted back to home.
On Monday, I was given the job offer for an eight month contract. This was an amazing opportunity to work at a big firm and get solid experience with a popular language. So I verbally said yes, still sounding excited. I started the paperwork, but I never signed anything. That same day I got an interview request for a local firm. I had that meeting the next day because I had told them I had an offer in hand. That job really did sound interesting.
I was feeling sick about the idea of going to Seattle. A couple of days later, I sent an email expressing my doubts. I was trying to be nice and polite and not burn any bridges, so I told them I needed time to think about the job. Really, I was stalling for time to see if the local offer would pan out. But that job kept me waiting. They didn’t seem to really want to make a decision quickly.
By the next week, the contracting firm was starting to wonder. And on Tuesday I let them know I wasn’t interested. They didn’t take “No” for an answer. I once again got phone calls.
I eventually figured out several reasons why I shouldn’t take the job. The chief one was that the job, as described, didn’t sound like what I wanted to do. I would be writing testing automation infrastructure; I would be writing something that no one would enjoy using. I want to like what I write. I want to make things as easy as possible for the end user and that, although they may not want to use the software (because it is work), they would not mind using it. It makes their lives easier. Testing infrastructure just makes a test script easier to write. It is an important job, but not one I would like to do for eight months. And on top of that, pay rent in a foreign country away from all my friends and family.
I explained this to the contracting company, and they understood. They would contact the big company and see if that is what I’ll actually be doing. That was last monday, and I haven’t heard anything since.
Guess I’m staying.