Something is happening here, but you don’t know what it is, do you, Mister Jones?

Today is the first day of my offseason, and it is a strange thing. My last race was on Saturday, and since I am not not eight on the team, I will not be racing Regionals this coming Saturday or Nationals the Saturday after that. That is not to say I will not be there.

So be it, Jedi.

November already? Jumping jellyfish, that happened fast.

I Just Felt Like Running

Most of what has happened since I last posted is very good. Only one thing sticks out as very bad. Okay, maybe not very bad, but kind of a drag. I'll go ahead and get that one over with first.

A Long-expected Party

I just took the most wonderful nap. I love me some naps. Nap nap nap.

Creepy Stuff Happens in Nowhere

It must be Monday again. Mondays aren't too bad for me. I've got one class, and it goes from 9:05 to 9:55. Tuesdays are a little different. I have three classes and a lab. That's six and a half hours of sitting in a classroom. And Tuesday is our hardest workout day in XC. And it means I usually have a lot of work to do on Mondays, which is definitely true today.

Well, back to the ol' grind.

One week of classes in the books, and it wasn't too bad. My workload is going to be pretty steep this semester. Take a jump if you care to see what I've got.

Sympathy for the Devil

STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS START NEXT WEEK.

Earlier this week, the Ducks claimed their second ever Pacific Division title and clinched the second seed in the West. In the next two days, the standings will sort themselves out and the Ducks' first round opponent will be revealed. It's gonna be San Jose, Detroit, Minnesota, or Columbus. If it's San Jose, Jason, you should probably/definitely spend all the money you have in your pocketses and go to a game with Amanda.

On to less important things, like school.

Wait only for my boot heels to be wandering.

Here I am, sitting at my computer in my dorm room in Middlebury, Vermont, and I've got to write all about my time in Southern California over spring break. There must have been at least 38.6 billion moments during the trip that were awesome enough to merit mention here. With any luck, I'll remember half of them. Because I am lucky enough to be friends with the photographically inclined David Russell, I have a huge photo library, courtesy of the big man, at my disposal. These pictures should help with the storytelling.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Here I am in Utah. The skiing has been pretty bad because we haven't had snow in a while, but it's supposed to snow this afternoon, tonight, and tomorrow, so tomorrow should be a good day. Because the conditions suck so much right now, we're planning on going snowmobiling today. Can't wait.

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.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?

I have intentionally taken the lives of exactly 111 living creatures in the last twenty-one hours. Why, how, and from whom, you ask? Patience, lads and lasses. Patience.

Four score and seven years ago

I have a race this afternoon. It's in Burlington. My parents will be there. I'm hanging out with them for Fall Break (Jason so mad it funny). We have Monday and Tuesday off. I'm tired. I have a race later today, and I think I'm going to skip my class at 11:15 because I'd rather sleep. It'll be the first class I've skipped this semester. Actually, I'd rather sleep that write this blog post. I'll just make it quick.

The Fire of Scorching Wind

Whazzup. This week had some good parts and some bad parts, but mostly it had average parts, like all weeks do. We cans start with a good part. It's first chronologically anyway.

One expedient only is left to me – travel.

I could start this post the same way I did two weeks ago: That was a damn good burger I just had. Friday is burger day here. I usually grab, in addition to the buns and the patty, all of the following: tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, mustard, BBQ sauce, thousand island, relish, and, most importantly, baked beans. Mmmmm. And then I go back and make a second one.

My readers will excuse me from the unnecessary duty of describing the denouement.

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.

Galileo Figaro Magnifico

It will come as no great shock to any of you that the first thing I think of when pressed to summarize the most recent seven days that I have lived through is work. Classes have really started to pick up and accordingly I have been spending a great deal of time studying. The nice thing about my workload is that it is mostly reading, so even if I have, say, five hours of work, as was the case yesterday, I'm spending four and a half of those hours attending to something written by someone other than me, which is considerably easier, I think, than attending to something written by me and by that I mean writing it myself.

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.

A Sea of Stars

I didn't proofread this, so there might be errors. I'm tired. Sorry. Not really. I'm never sorry.

A week ago I left you, following my first weekend in my dormitory, on the eve of general move-in day. So let us visit my last Tuesday, the twenty-four hour period responsible for the doubling of the population of my little cubiculum.

My roommate's name is Jack Hunsicker. He hails from Minneapolis, Minnesota, though he attended a private boarding school in Massachusetts (just like everybody else here) prior to his arrival at Middlebury. I, regretfully for the sake of this column's entertainment value but thankfully for the sake of my sanity and my comfort, which to me but not necessarily to you trumps the former, have no qualms about Mr. Hunsicker. Also, he is very tall.