Back from the hotel slow season and back on unemployment. No worries — need the time to swim, run, and get my bike tuned for the Vancouver race. Tonight was a fine run and the weather was nice. Also: a lady from work rescued a juicer from the lost-and-found pile and gave it to me. Strange timing given my recent juice fast. I live a few blocks from Pike's Place Market, so the produce situation is excellent. I will give better nutrition a go and report findings.
Snowing. The Vancouver triathlon is likely cancelled. I am a hardcore guy but triathlon is not the best sport in bad weather — slick bike courses, safety issues. I will refocus on a race down in Rocky Point, Baja next month. The bike is back from REI in excellent shape, though there is some permanent damage from the crash at that race last June. Like new otherwise.
I haven't seen daylight for more than an hour all week. I have become some sort of mole creature. My special indoor sunlight bulbs help, but I need real California sun. Must play outside. Stop. Come soon. Stop.
That's my ferret Cosmo. He's a cool little dude, and is more of a candy raver than anybody else I know. What a nut that crazy creature is. I wonder where he gets it.
And then it was six months later. The damage is done and the criminals are still loose. It wasn't an attack against the United States but against all of humanity. The world is in a strange state. Of course it will pass, and something new and even more devastating will come. If there ever was a time for humanity to stand up and say enough of this crazy violence, now would be the time.
Today I went back to the pool for the first time in six months. The water was nice and warm. 1,000-metre warm-up, 10x100-metre freestyle sprints, 1,000-metre cool-down. I was amazed I could do it. I had forgotten how much I love to swim.
"99 dreams I have had, and every one a red balloon,
It's all over and I'm standing pretty in this dust that was a city,
If I could find a souvenir, just to prove the world was here,
And here is a red balloon, I think of you and let it go."
— 99 Red Balloons
Back to work for two days. Big drama on the horizon: a fundraising party for Sinn Féin with high-profile party members, at the same time as an English rock group checking in. I had to explain the whole situation to my manager, who is an idiot. The Homeland Security colour for the day I imagined to be Blue.
The Sinn Féin lecture was well-attended by the Irish community. At the end everybody went to the bar and drank Guinness. A small music group played a drunken rendition of Riverdance. One girl brought her own square metre of dance floor. The hotel became very Irish, and I think I will see a United Ireland within my lifetime.
Then Belinda Carlisle stepped out of the shuttle. I took her gear right up. She hadn't been to Seattle before and was WAY impressed with the city. I did my little marketing bit in my own style — next thing you know the whole band was eating Japanese food and drinking microbrews. Mission complete.
March 20th: 400-year anniversary of the Dutch East India Company. I have a VOC-themed geocache in the works — spice containers meant to travel back to their places of origin, watching their journeys like waiting for the spice ships to come back to Amsterdam. Educational and fun. A little on the geek side, but what can I say.
Maintenance ripped out my bathroom ceiling this week. There is now a big hole between the floors that hasn't seen daylight in over 100 years. The wood is really old but there are serious steel beams holding the building up. I am more worried about what creatures crawl around in there and might decide to come visit me. Worse than any wallpaper I could ever imagine.
Back to the pool for 3,000 metres. Worked on form — I swim with about 5 fewer strokes per length than the fast kids (13 vs 18). They may be faster but I am still going when they are out of gas. Wore shorts outside for the first time this year. I hate pants. Summer is coming.
The American Philosophical Association is in the hotel this week. Plenty smart, but completely unable to park a car, use an elevator, or read a map. If we were stranded on an island I am afraid I would have to eat these people first. My ferrets could find their way out of a paper bag faster than they can.
Planning a summer trip: two weeks in Scandinavia, Helsinki to Stockholm or vice versa, driving across and back, getting remote. Lots of geocaches along the way. Or maybe Siberia — herding reindeer, fishing the sea for sustenance. Though the average lifespan back in the days of such living was about 35, and I would almost be dead. Maybe I will just rent a nice car and drive to Canada.
Birthday is coming up. Instead of the normal things, I have an appointment with my doctor for a complete physical. They think my cholesterol may be a little high. The plan is to balance out all my systems in the next 45 days and prove them wrong. Early detection of nastiness is key. Until then — off and running.