Down the Foggy Ruins of Time

I'm sleepy. I'm really sleepy. Staying up to watch west coast hockey games takes a toll. As does work. As does practice. On Tuesday it rained about as hard as I've ever seen it rain, and it did that for the entire day. We had a track workout that day. Warmup + Drills + 3x(600 + 400 + 200) + Cooldown + Plyos + Second Cooldown. Which isn't that bad of workout, if you do it in decent weather. Rain sucks, guys. We had no idea how lucky we were to grow up in Orange County. I can deal with the cold and the wind and the snow. Snow is fine. Snow doesn't soak you to the bone. But rain makes running miserable. Rain makes being miserable. I hate rain. I really hate rain.

We owe it to each other to tell stories.

This blog is a strange thing, particularly when considered with its relationship to the rest of my week. You see, throughout my week, I see and do all sorts of strange, wonderful, dreadful, or at least marginally anecdote-worthy things. Yet, when I sit down to write on the blog, as of course I am doing right now, I can't help but think that a thousand tiny stories have come and gone from my busy little head over the last seven days, a few of which I would have liked to share.
I suppose I'll have to stick to the big stories, for now. Let's start with the track meet.

The South Will Rise Again

Look at how pissed off all the fans are. I love it.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Howdy folks. Let's talk about my week.

Here Comes the Sun

Last week I was wondering if Rachael was alive. Turns out, she was, and presumably still is. (Speaking of Rachael, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Yes, I have all of your birthdays, plus those of several other people, written down in my calendar. I need not use an electronic crutch for such things.) Well, this week another member of our cast has gone AWOL, although I am less inclined to think that he has died than I am to think that he simply forgot to post. Rich, please come back. We miss you.

The last time anybody made a list of the top hundred character attributes of New Yorkers, common sense snuck in at number 79.

There comes a time once in every runner's life when he forgets what it is like not to be acquainted with the sport. More specifically, there comes a time once in every runner's life when he forgets what it is like not to be acquainted with people who wear very short shorts and think that it's perfectly normal. And for those not aware, I ought to inform you that I am using a very liberal definition of the word "once." But more on that in a minute. We're taking the chronological route for this one.

A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.

Telluride, Colorado, aka retirement option 1A.

"Hello Derek, my name is the Weather, and I'm here to tell you that I'm colder than the freezing point of water. IN OCTOBER. HOPE YOU BROUGHT A SCARF. Later bro."Yes, that is an accurate account of a conversation I took part in yesterday, and by "took part in" I mean "listened to and said nothing." And yes, the Weather is apparently a bro. Go figure.

So Fall Break is happening right now. We get today and tomorrow off, which means I have all day to generate the most awesomeful (it's a word, trust me) post ever. Well, at least in theory. Speaking of theories, I came up with a pretty good one recently. It goes like this: Vermont is cold. DISPROVE THAT ONE, CREATIONISTS. Oh what's that? You can't? Sound familiar? Right.

Ubi Est Italia?

According to my usually reliable memory, nobody reading this (assuming my audience here is what I think it is) has been to Middlebury. This being the case, I'd like to devote a few words to a description of the campus.

Middlebury is rather hilly. There are few places to which you can walk and not undergo a noticeable elevation change. This creates an interesting dynamic for many of the buildings on campus. Very often, if you walk into a building on the ground floor and you cross to the other side of the building, you will find that you are no longer on the ground floor. For instance, if I want to exit my dormitory building from the west, I can walk directly out without using the stairs, but if I want to use the eastern exit, I must first ascend a flight of stairs. The larger the building, the bigger the elevation change tends to be from one end to the other.