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Back from Denver with the sun behind us
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One is halloween candy, the other is dishwasher detergent. I’m not sure whether to blame the chemically consistency of the candy or the edible packaging of the soap.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I’ve always wanted to run a triathlon.
Only, it’s always been on that list of things that includes ‘write a book’ and ‘live in a treehouse’. Not that these are impossible things to do, just that the only way they’re ever actually going to happen is throw yourself into them with reckless abandon.
So now, thanks to an amazing program called Team in Training and a ridiculously energetic girlfriend, it’s on.
As it currently stands, I have an ankle that throbs with too much distance running, bad luck with bikes (stolen, twice), and I haven’t swam laps since the Meadowbrook Marlins 6-and-under team. I’ve also never raised more than $50 worth of door-to-door candy bar sales, and my dad has a severe weakness for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
But by May 25th, 2008, I will be in fighting shape to complete (and maybe even compete in) an Olympic distance triathlon. I’ll be able to swim 1.5km, bike 40km, and then run 10km (about .9, 26, and 6 miles respectively). And I’ll have raised $4,200 in support of the Leukemia Society and research against blood cancers, specifically leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and myeloma.
Much more to follow, but for now it’s bed time because I need to ignore the snow and go swim in the morning.
You can check out my embarrassingly empty donation page complete with super-catchy URL at: http://www.active.com/donate/tntnca04/trimatthlon
And the triathlon I’m training for: CapTexTri in Austin, Texas.
Three things I’ve been up to lately:
1. Watching every minute of the playoffs (and yet somehow missing Manny’s walk-off). In the meantime, I’ve come across a pretty solid directory of Red Sox- and Patriots-friendly bars in DC:
Red Sox bars (most pretty Pats-friendly too, especially Irish Times)
Pour House, 319 Pennsylvania Avenue SE Washington DC http://www.pourhouse-dc.com
Kelly’s Irish Times, 14 F St. NW, Washington, DC (Union Station Metro) (and Kelly is single on MySpace)
The Rhino Bar and Pumphouse, 3295 M St. NW (Georgetown hates the Metro) http://www.rhinobardc.com
Patriots bars:
Murphy’s Irish Pub, 713 King St Alexandria (King St. Metro) http://www.murphyspub.com/ (if you want your Brady jersey to smell like smoke)
2. Seeing Into the Wild and Tick..Tick…Boom!, a movie and a play, both of which make you want to go live on a lake somewhere.
(original soundtrack by Eddie Vedder…I like this video better than the trailer)
3. Hosting a monthly NetSquared DC Meetup in Adams Morgan. We bring together “social changemakers and technological forerunners” to meet and crowdsource a featured nonprofit’s online strategy. We affectionately call this “Pimp My Nonprofit”.
who knew there were Photoshop tutorials on copying the “Pimp My Ride” logo?
…and generally exploring DC to my heart’s content. Except this weekend I’ll be home in Boston with Meghan for the Head of the Charles Regatta, which I’ve somehow never been to, and, as long as Beckett continues carrying the Sox, some hometown ALCS action.
the glorified rowboats that lure countless undergrads to Boston
cross-posted from EchoDitto.com:
I wasn’t sure how New Yorkers were going to react to 50+ costumed bicyclists navigating weekend traffic in Manhattan, but it turns out that New York has a good sense of humor. Children looked on in awe, traffic cops smiled and waved us through intersections, and even when we inevitably drifted out of our lane, the people in cars were concerned about only one thing: What the heck were we?
The suits we wore were intentionally amorphous, but that didn’t stop people from hazarding guesses and in the process, projecting a little bit of their own personality in a sort of fast-moving Rorschach test. The safe-for-work category of guesses included bunnies, marshmallows, angels, and teeth (a guerilla marketing campaign by Colgate, perhaps?).
The majesty of the Aeolian Ride through Brooklyn and over the Williamsburg Bridge was tempered only by the fact that my neck was serving as masthead for what was essentially a sail. My chiropractor and spin instructor would have been appalled by my form, but it was still an unforgettable experience in mob art.
The ride ended at the beginning of the Deitch Art Parade, where we barely stood out at all. We got to lead the parade and then spent the remainder of the time riding in circles around some truly enduring hoola hoopers.
More photos of the ride and parade.
Harish has given me a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: to ride a bike through Brooklyn and Manhattan in a wind-inflated bunny suit with 51 others in a similarly ridiculous state of dress. The Aeolian Ride:
INSPIRED BY A LOVE FOR BIKES, CITY CRUISING, CRITICAL MASS, COSTUMES, SILLYNESS + THINGS THAT INFLATE, I DECIDED TO MAKE A FREE, MASS PARTICIPATORY EVENT WITH A SENSE OF HUMOR. IT EXCITES THOSE RIDING AS WELL AS DELIGHTS THOSE WATCHING, ALL THE WHILE TRANSFORMING THE LANDSCAPE INTO A PLAYGROUND OF WINDFILLED SHAPES.
Now in its third year, the ride begins in the Greenpoint neighborhood of Brooklyn and ends in SoHo at the beginning of the Deitch Art Parade, where we will meet up with people far freakier than costumed cyclists. Needless to say, there will be pictures. I didn’t want to run for office anyway.And for anyone looking to make the DC<->NY journey on the cheap, I’ve found a bus line that’s $5 more than Fung Wah but includes wireless Internet, a bottle of water, a reserved seat (!), and probably fewer explosions: DC2NY.com.
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At yes! Organics…talk about no additives
Not to interrupt the ghosts haunting this blog, but in the vein of Tom’s tribute to his late coffeepot, I had to note the loss of my own valued posession, my lucky Red Sox hat. Sure, it was slightly pre-faded when I bought it, but years of literally blood, sweat, and tears (mostly sweat) not to mention sunlight had faded its dark blue to purpled tan.
Somehow it survived years of whipping against tables during losses and spinning above heads during wins, but could not make a short flight from Knoxville, TN to Washington, DC. My only hope is that whoever finds it at that Ruby Tuesday’s gives it a proper burial. I can’t bear the thought of the emblem that attempted to cover my large head through the dark years and the glory years laid to waste in a dumpster with the rotting remains of the salad bar.
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Movies on the Mall
