Where in the world is Polvo San Diego?

So I spent all of last week in "Buenos Aires" Argentina, which has anything but "Good Air" as the translated version of the name would lead me to believe. It seems that the farmers are both feuding with the government and also attempting to grow a healthier crop so they are burning the fields (so I hear) - which makes the forecast on weather.com read "Smokey" - so "Buenos Aires"? Hardly.

I flew back on a red-eye Friday and after a half-dozen tormented naps on the plane, I landed back in Dallas at around 6:30am Saturday. From there we packed up the kids, and a friend (who ran with me) along with her two kids - and drove 3 and a half hours to Oklahoma City for the "Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon" which was going to take place the following day.

That night, despite laying down to go to bed around 9:30 I eventually fell asleep around 11:30 (see also: 7 people in one hotel room, 4 kids, jet lag, can't drink, etc.,) and it seemed just 5 minutes later two separate alarms went off telling me it was already 4:30 - time to get up in order to catch the 5:15 am shuttle to the race. Despite my original disbelief ("I just fell asleep didn't I?", and the brief "Where am I") it was actually 4:30am, and not just 11:35 as I'd hoped.

At 5:00 am, as we made our way to the shuttle, it was around 40 degrees outside, windy, and a steady rain was falling that wasn't so bad - except when the wind blew it and the temp outside made it sort of sting. Other than that it was actually really nice outside - especially in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. As we made our way to the starting line my whole body was shivering, and I was making a steady humming sound with my voice because I found it entertaining how my chattering jaw was chopping up the sound "da da da da da la la la la la" and to also let the other people around me know that I was shivering.

Since this was a memorial run, for the Oklahoma City bombing, just before the start there was 168 seconds of silence to remember each person who died, followed by an emotional version of the national anthem. It was a very moving experience.

In the end I was able to beat my last time by about 2 minutes - however towards the end I got passed by this cat who had to be in his late 60's if not early 70's with a full head of gray hair and a few spools of extra skin draped on him - it was certainly humbling but I had to give it to the guy. I didn't stop once, for 13.1 miles straight, with a pace of 7:54 minute miles (which is = to 7.6 on a treadmill for 1 hr 43 mins straight)
I'm just now starting to be able to walk without a noticeable limp

Earth trembles begat centipillars?

i was awoken from my late afternoon nap on the couch yesterday by the swaying of walls, the grumbling of the earth, the violent swinging of houseplants, and the sound of things falling from upright, to upside down, onto the hardwood floor. For nearly half a minute I looked at Lula, and she at me, as we sat near paralyzed on the futon, and i thought 'damn, the earth is going to open up and swallow us whole, and make sure we never leave reno'.

Later that afternoon, while sweeping up the debris of white-popcorn paint which had fallen from the ceiling and copulated with dust bunnies and dog fur - i noticed, to absolute humor and horror, at least a dozen dead centipedes or caterpillars curled in various poses of the fetal position - which until the earthshake I had never seen in my house before. What the.....?

Art school? I don't need no stinkin' art school

Today I learnt that when a man waits to go to college....and forgoes his initial boyhood dream of going to art school...he will still be able to create frame-worthy watercolors of himself with which to decorate his home. Viva la Rob!

Tuna Time (sung to the tune of Hammer Time)

If you want to make really good tuna....you boil an egg....chop it up really fine...mix it with the 5 oz. pack of tuna that says "hickory smoke flavor"...add some chopped onions and sweet pickle relish (with a little relish juice)...and dab or two of mayonaise..shake of salt and dash of pepper...and eat on multi-grain bread....with a real classic Coke.

Have any of you guys seen this show "Corner Gas:?............it's like really funky and funny. We have been watching it a few months....usually comes on here after Jon Stewart, Colbert, and the mandatory three Scrubs shows.

Speaking of Oklahoma

As some might recall I signed up for the Oklahoma City Memorial half-marathon which will take place on 4/27/08. After signing up however, I learnt that I'll be traveling to Argentina on business for a week and won't return to Dallas until 6am on 4/26/08. So needless to say I was worried about jet lag, the fact that I don't sleep well on planes, and that I likely won't have much time to train in Argentina. So I started to research the effects of jet lag on runners....

Subsequently I found this guy who was 59 years old and ran seven (7) full marathons, in seven (7) days, across seven (7) continents. On top of that the guy had previously recovered from a heart attack and a double by-pass surgery and he was actually running with a defibrillator "just in case". http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/3234479.stm

So I presume if a 59 year old with a heart condition can travel 7 continents in 7 days and run over 180 miles, then I can travel across 1 and run 13 miles.

Oklahoma: New Mecca of Fashion?

While enjoying the picture ads in last Sunday's paper, I learnt that Oklahoma - specificly Oklahoma City - is apparently the new center of the fashion and design universe. A Gordmans ad (how you say "Beall's" in Coloradon) proudly devoted 8 glossy pages to a theme they called "Gordmans on the road...OKLAHOMA CITY!" On page 2 they showcased something called "Coastal Wood Furniture". Valencia and I particularly enjoyed this chair and end table. (see picture.) I think it belongs in my coastal home. Boan, you (and Abbzug and Polvo) have Oklahoma roots: What do you think? Is Oklahoma the inspiration for your art?

Is it just me or does this guy....

sitting over a couple pints of guiness (plural: guinuessi) at an irish pub in the sleepy mountain town of Truckee, California, last night, I spotted a guy at the far end of the bar, leaning against the drift and old barn wood walls, who looked a hell of a lot like a rhode island relative. I bribed him with a guiness to take a photo with me, and he kindly obliged.