It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity. And the heat. And more humidity. And more heat.

If you didn’t catch it from this post’s title, summer has arrived early in North Carolina, with 90+ degree and 60%+ humidity days, driving the apparent temperature outside to well over 100 degrees.  Just stepping outside your door brings on a full-fledged sweat, and if you even think about doing any yardwork or physical activity during the day, it better be in the early-morning or late-evening hours, or you’re risking heat exhaustion or heatstroke.

So, of course, I stupidly spent most of Friday morning hauling mulch from the landscaper’s back to my house, and most of Friday afternoon transporting it from a pile beside my house into the playset in the backyard.

It was only 4.5 cubic yards of mulch, total, which compared to the 8 yards from a couple years back, didn’t make quite the same size pile as before, but since this time I transported it all by myself instead of paying for a $75 delivery fee, felt like about twice as much as I really wanted to handle.

4.5 cu. yds of cypress chips still makes a sizeable pile!

One “benefit” to the new mulch, (when compared to the shredded palettes that made up the last playground mulch I bought), is that it was significantly less dense per unit volume.  Although this meant I needed to get a little more than I wanted to get the same coverage, it made shoveling and hauling around in a wheelbarrow much easier than the last time I did this.  My nephew wanted to earn some money, so he took his turns with the mulching fork loading the wheelbarrow, which I then pushed into the play area and dumped/raked.  With copious amounts of water breaks and a couple of trips in to the air-conditioning to REALLY cool off, we finished up the mulch transport in about 4 hours or so.

Rejuvenated play area, just in time for the heat of summer.

We barely beat out an afternoon thunderstorm, which immediately flooded the storm drains and catchbasins around the play area, but the mulch bed itself weathered the storm nicely, and may have even leveled itself out a little bit more because of the torrential downpours.

So of course, by doing all this prep work to get the play area spruced up again, I’ve guaranteed that the thermometer this week isn’t going to drop below 95 degrees.  But at least it’s nice to look at, while tucked away safely indoors behind double-paned windows and basking in the cool breath of central air conditioning!


Toothful Tuesday

I came home to some “exciting” news yesterday from The Color Princess.  Her one remaining top front tooth, which has been wiggling in her gums for a couple weeks now, finally came loose (with a little help from Dee).  Now, she has an adorable toothless smile and an even cuter pronounced lisp.

The girls have been given “tooth pillows” they can put their lost teeth in and hang on their bedroom door for the Tooth Fairy (note to parents – this is definitely the way to go – no sneaking into their room after they’re asleep!) but unfortunately, the CP’s tooth pillow is currently lost in the mess of her room, so I improvised with another little purse-like bag last night, tucking the tooth inside and hanging it on the CP’s doorknob as we put her to bed.  I figured after she was definitely asleep for the night I’d pull the ol’ switcheroo and she’d wake up to a nice crisp dollar bill tucked into the purse instead of her tooth.

Well, this here Tooth Fairy would probably flunk a mid-year performance evaluation.  I goofed big time; by the time I went to bed, it had totally slipped my mind to swap out the chopper for cash, and the poor girl woke up all excited, only to find that, in spite of all promises to the contrary, the Tooth Fairy had NOT come overnight.  It was a teary, heart-wrenching sight, let me tell you.

As Dee consoled her on the couch, I slipped into the CP’s room and hid the dollar under her real pillow.  We then asked her whether she had looked under her pillow on her bed, as sometimes “the Tooth Fairy leaves money under your pillow if she can’t find the tooth pillow”.  When she pulled out the dollar bill, she still had tears in her eyes but was beaming ear-to-ear.  Crisis averted, and my 6-year-old is probably happily showing off her giant gap-toothed smile to all of her teachers and friends at school today.

Now, I just have to figure out to do with this incisor that the negligent Tooth Fairy forgot to take with her last night…

 


Hello, do you like my hat? No, I do not. Good-bye! Good-bye!

Years ago, I stole borrowed my father’s Filson “Packer Hat” for a costume in high school.  I liked it so much, I decided that I’d get one for myself when I was older.

Years down the road, when my wife and I were finally dating, we were driving through Baltimore and I stopped at one of the more prominent sporting goods stores in the area and finally picked one up.  My wife, who I now know was humoring me, didn’t really say much about it, and I would wear it for ‘outdoor’ type activities (hiking, camping, fishing, sitting at the beach, etc).  It’s a great hat for all of that – waterproof, flexible but with a moldable brim, and it “gains character” with age/use.

(Me on the beach circa 2007, in The Hat)

.

So, a year or two ago, we were going on a trip somewhere, and I pulled out The Hat.  I mentioned how I thought I might have lost it somewhere, and my wife blurted out, “I wish you had.  God I hate that thing.”

Now, she had teased me about the hat in the past, but it seemed like good-natured ribbing, and not an indication of deeper feelings.  This time it hurt though, because I truly DID like The Hat, and here she was telling me that she hated it.  I wasn’t about to toss it in the Goodwill Box, but I did stop wearing it as much (around her).  After all, when I’m wearing it, she’s the one that has to look at it, right?

That said, I’ll still pull it out for trips, or when it’s raining, or when I’m going to be going for a hike somewhere.  I like The Hat and although my wife may hate it, she loves ME enough to put up with it if I’m not going to be too blatantly ostentatious about wearing it in front of her.  It’s a good thing, too, because unless I “lose” it, this thing is probably going to last me another 20 years or so of use.

 


RossRuns – or Does He?

14 years ago, I was a high school senior.  I was a straight-A student, a vocal-jazz singer, a bit of a nerd, but also a clearly defined runner.  Hell, my AOL account username was “RossRuns” (an affectation I have kept up through the years for nearly all of my new user accounts on various web services).  I had placed 8th in the Washington state Cross Country championship meet with my 15:24 5K time, and was seeded #1 going into the state track meet the following spring regional finish of 4:20 for the 1600m.  There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that running was an integral part of my life.

13 years ago, I was a walk-on to the UVA Cross Country team, qualifying with a 5 mile time of 25:25.  I had taken my running to the next level, racking up between 60-80 miles a week with the rest of the squad. I competed in a couple of invitationals but was sidelined with an injury during the winter and part of the spring – long enough to red-shirt my freshman year and leave me considering whether I wanted to continue with such a grueling training schedule in light of all the other college activities I was participating in.

10 years ago, after graduating college and beginning work in New York state, I occasionally ran on evenings/weekends, but I don’t recall it being according to any regular schedule or set training plan. I explained the “RossRuns” username to people as “Well, it’s a whole lot easier to remember than RossUsedToRun.”

8 years ago, I joined many of my coworkers in the “Corporate Challenge”, a 3.5 mile road race in NY.  I collapsed somewhere near/on/past the finish line (I don’t remember the finish to this race to this day).  Any notions of getting back into shape through regular running left me for a good while, after that.

3 years ago, while in India, I ran on the treadmill in the gym every morning before going to the factory, for 5 weeks straight.  I returned home and promptly failed to follow up with any running, whatsoever.

2 years ago, after “training” for a few months, I joined my wife in the Harrisburg NC YMCA 5K and finished 28th overall and 1st in my age group, with a 23:28 finish. My commitment to keep running ended just about the time it started to be 90 degrees and 90% humidity outdoors the following month.

Last year (Feb 2010), I ruptured my Achilles tendon and after surgery to stitch it back together, was banned from running until November 2010.  This restriction finally gave me the kick in the pants I needed to realize how much I was taking my own fitness and health for granted. I tentatively got back into training (as much as my poor leg would allow me) and started building up my endurance and strength again.

This past Saturday, I ran 5 miles (continuous) for probably the first time since my undergrad days 13 years ago.  Not only that, I ran it as part of a regular training schedule, on (or ahead of) pace and I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT.

Looking back on my running history above, it shocks me to see that the time I took off from running was over twice as long as the period where I had seriously considered myself a runner, prior to that (since Cross Country and Track in 8th grade).  I never realized the excuses and the inconsistency in my running history until I seriously sat down and charted my on-again, off-again habits.

I want to turn that statistic around, and proudly use the ID “RossRuns” because it is an indication that I’ve been running longer than I haven’t.  Sure, I’ll have little hurdles to overcome along the way, but I feel like I’ve revitalized my running spirit and my drive to stick with it. Only time will tell, of course, but already I’ve seen incredible benefits in my own life – everything from significantly reduced cholesterol levels to mental balance and acuity to increased energy and happiness – that make it well worth my while to try to maintain this lifestyle even if I’m feeling the running shtick on a particular afternoon.

I’m a Runner. I prove it by running. That’s all there is to it, and all I need to keep in mind.  And in 1 year, 2 years, 5 years, 10 years, and further into the future, I hope I can look back and do another of these posts, and be inordinately proud of what I’ve achieved and what I’ve done in my running life.

“If you run, you are a runner. It doesn’t matter how fast or how far. It doesn’t matter if today is your first day or if you’ve been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass, no license to earn, no membership card to get. You just run.”
-John Bingham


Puss in Boots

If it’s been a while since you read the fairy tale, let me quickly recap:

  • Youngest son’s inheritance is a cat.
  • Puss demands and receives a pair of boots.
  • Puss proceeds to hunt and catch animals in the forest and present them to the King as gifts from the fictional Marquis de Carabas.
  • Puss tells his master to strip naked and hide in the river while he cons the King and his daughter into thinking the young man is the Marquis de Carabas and has been robbed.
  • Puss runs ahead and coerces the peasants along the road into telling the King that the fields, farms, and game preserves he passes all belong to the Marquis de Carabas.  Puss threatens to cut them up into mincemeat if they don’t comply.
  • Puss enters a castle where an ogre lives, tricks the ogre into turning into a mouse, kills and eats him, and claims ownership of the castle for his master.
  • The King, impressed by the wealth of the “Marquis”, gives the impostor his princess’ hand in marriage and makes him heir to the throne.
  • Puss lives high on the hog and only chases mice when he feels like it, thereafter.

My thoughts:

  1. Puss is kind of a dick.
  2. This sounds oddly like the set of actions that created the last big Real Estate Bubble.
  3. This is the best example I can find in literature where lying is rewarded, where an apparently completely undeserving individual (the third son) ends up on top of it all through trickery and deception, and appearance and wealth are stressed above all other things as the driving forces for marriage.
  4. I’m pretty sure I’m going to avoid reading this story to my kids until they’re old enough to understand how truly twisted it is.

The Monday Morning Haiku #14

Don your vorpal blade -
Monday is the Jabberwock.
Can you slay it? Please?


How in the blazes is it Monday already?  Did I step into a time warp?  Did I spend the entire weekend talking to The Silence? Or did I “fritter” away the time with my family, IKEA, yardwork, Netflix, beer, and books? (Yes, the last seems most likely.)

Oh well, whatever the circumstances, I’m back here at work again, the kids are back in school, and everything’s pretty much normal again.  Hooray for the weekends – may I have a second helping please?


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