Week 3 - Records Are Meant To Be Broken

With the holidays here, Run Camp didn't meet officially this week. On the schedule I had to laugh because for the 25th they listed the mileage we were suppose do our long run as "on your own". I secretly wonder how many people really ran that day. When you're on your own, it's easy to cheat! For the record, I actually did run, just not very far. But I get to qualify that because I had made arrangements and called in my support group (okay, support person Crazy Train) to do our long run the next day. It also just so happened that one of our group leaders also decided to do a group run, so we ended joining them. Can two other people and the group leader really be a "them"? When you include the two of us, for a grand total of five people, I guess so. Eh, I was happy.

Every superhero has a weakness, heck that's the link that makes them seem human. I'm sworn to secrecy, but I know CT's Kryptonite. I'm going to share this information with my blog only because nobody reads it, so it will remain a secret, but when it comes to hills she becomes much more human! Why do I bring this up? Because, I'm taking FULL credit when I cure her of this deficiency! Oh yeah, I'm going to brag about it, hell maybe the Biggest Loser will come knocking on my door for the next trainer gig. Being only our third run together, I already noticed an improvement. About a mile into our run a long mile hill started. One of the other people in the group clearly struggled with it, so I kind of hung back and tried to keep that person motivated, the whole time smiling as CT powered up and to the end of this monster hill.

The group ended up deciding on doing eight miles. It was a good run, even though we tended to stop more often than I like. I can't be positive, but I think CT would have been happy doing eight, if "on your own" is easy to cheat, what good is a partner that doesn't push? This week was my turn to push us. We said quick good-byes to our group, then CT and I split off to add an extra mile or two. Even though I was very proud of how CT did in hills earlier, I headed right to the biggest hills that I knew of (remember my game from my previous entry). At one point she actually made a comment to me that made me think she was debating quitting or maybe it was just that she was very displeased with me. Either way, I can't remember the exact phrase because I was so out of breath myself, my brain wasn't functioning, but I swear it happened! I know I didn't hallucinate it! Once out of the hills, she admitted it felt good and thanked me. Looking at our stats from our run, we actually got faster in the hills, which I think is damn impressive. We are going to rock this marathon.

So....why the broken ornament in the picture? Well, besides it representing the first and LAST time the Christmas tree has been up in my house for fear of what the cats will do to it. In the coming weeks, many distance records are going to be broken like this ornament, but this week is special because it represents the first time I've completed double digits in a single run, 10.17 to be exact! Oh, and if for some reason it didn't convey to words in this blog entry, I feel FANTASTIC!

In Running, It's Better To Lead Than Follow

Ooooooh Awwwwwwwwwwh! (Now pretend the sky opens and that first beam of light comes shining down on me)

I wouldn't call it an epiphany, maybe it was, it was at least a moment, where it hit me that my attitude regarding Run Camp sucked. I happened to be watching some music videos that featured people running in them, when it just clicked, I just want to run! I went from sitting really doing nothing, to actually starting to get giddy and trying to figure out how I could get out and run. Take this video for example, he looks fast and has great form, yet all I want to do is race him! It's probably safe to say that most people view running as a chore. Even a month ago, I would have agreed with that, but something has really changed recently and it's hard to explain (I am a guy after all and expressing feelings is almost like running a Marathon, it's not easy!). Watching the clock knowing that run is coming up, actually running breathing the air and seeing the sites, feeling the various surfaces under my feet, and the sense of accomplishment after a good run, I love it! With all those positives, it seems silly to get frustrated with something that is out of my control.

The more I thought about it though, I figure there are two options, live with it or fix it. Since I fix things constantly all day, it only seems natural which way to go. So, this is my pledge to step up and not follow behind complaining anymore.

Maybe this blog entry should be called Week 2.5, since I just finished the mid-week run. I've really been enjoying runs that Gazelle's has been putting on. I convinced my new run partner to come out and join me. Her name is Crazy Train by the way. That may not be her given name, but it IS fitting. I was going to be completely satisfied running six miles with the group. Oh no, not with CT, she wants to do another two after we finished the six. Don't tell her this, but there is NO WAY I'm letting her show me up! Off we go by ourselves this time. Well, just like my navigation underwater, my land navigation happened to be slightly off because I took us two point something miles instead of exactly two. Her response, well we have to do nine now! This is where I began to question this new decision not to complain (even though it would be impossible anyway as I was smiling the whole time), but I also I have to admit my new game, I'm curious if CT quits. We did call it a night after nine miles, so although she's crazy, she's not insane. Though we stopped for the night, we never quit, and I'm already checking the clock for when we get to go again!

Week 2 - Rubs Me The Wrong Way

There were a couple of different directions I could go with this entry. The Yooper in me thought about using the theme of The Second Week of Deer Camp only with Run Camp injected in it's place, but in all honesty I can't stand that song. Any time it comes on, it does make me want to bash my head against the wall. Run Camp isn't causing the exact same reaction yet, but it is causing me to at least shake my head. Another theme, I could treat Run Camp as this mysterious metaphysical, binding force that surrounds all living things with both a light side and a dark side, yet can't be seen, but George Lucus would probably sue me. Instead, I'll attempt to tell the story of the events of the week and relate them to the final outcome.

The Run Camp experience is split in two sections, the long run on Saturdays and typically a shorter mid-week run. The mid-week runs are optional, though technically everything is optional. They aren't going to make you run and turn all drill instructor on us. If week one caused me to wonder, then week two only confirmed my suspicion that we are on our own to figure out our own path. My group leaders picked times for their mid-week runs that no working person can make. See now how I could have easily gone with the shaking my head theme? My solution to that problem, I already had been doing a mid-week run with a completely different group, which surprisingly enough has a much better social side (and didn't cost me a dime). I don't want to change the subject, but I had a very enjoyable run this week with them, maybe that will warrant another blog entry by itself. Back on subject, I find it very odd to choose times that would be very difficult for people to be able to participate. Then again, this is Michigan and with very few people working, maybe it makes perfect sense. For me it doesn't.

Since I'm still not entirely sold on my group, listed on the schedule for today's agenda was thirty minutes for what's called drop/add, or switching teams. This surely would be the time when as a group we talked about our goals, how we were feeling, getting to know fellow runners, and basically deciding if we were in the right group. Instead, that was maybe two minutes (without any of those ideas by the way), while we were given a demonstration of core exercises for the rest of the time. I can't complain too much, that is valuable information and at least we are getting something. But this week is suppose to be the week teams are set for the remainder of the camp. This is where I'm just going to let the force (Luke, I am your father) of Run Camp run it's course, hopefully the light and the dark sides are equal.

Now to the run, the whole purpose of Run Camp. I started out in the back, mainly just to watch how the run would go this week. Would we stick tightly together, would there be more conversation, or would it be a repeat of last week? A mile in, we were split into about three clumps. So, this was going to be a repeat of last week. This is where I got irritated, already not happy with the mid-week run events, a group run that really isn't a group, our pace seemed slow (though looking at my stats after we were within our limits, so I can't officially be mad at that, but damn it, it felt like it!) and I could see a small group pulling away from our front leader. That was the last straw and clearly I'm on my own again this week, might as well run for me. I caught the group that was pulling away and stuck with them for a short time, then some hills started and they slowed and I kept going, now I was leading our group. The second water station was a 3.5 miles out. I stopped here, curious if the group would turn around here or not. Originally, I was only planning on doing 7 miles, so this was going to be my turn around point. The first team member behind me also got a drink, then as I was planning to wait for the rest of the group, she says "ready to keep going?". If she's doing it, I'm game, so off we went. At about the same time we started, a good song started playing (oh yes, I head my headphones in again), so I know I pushed the pace even more (so for the record as somebody who is complaining how non-social Run Camp is, I'm not doing my part either). Even though I was grooving, it hit me that her single comment to keep going was the most interaction I got in two weeks of Run Camp, that should count for something and what did I do, sped off without taking advantage of this opportunity. At mile marker 4 I stopped again, now I've never ran more than 7 miles and I'm now at the point of doing 8. She wasn't that far behind, our group however was.

Same question, turn around? Yet, I didn't even get to ask it. She pretty much just ran passed me with the comment, "lets do 9". Sold! Here's my run partner for Run Camp. Whether she was looking for a partner or not, I'm not sure, but she earned my respect at that moment, one for pushing me, the second for not seeming concerned for what our group was doing. For the remaining 5 miles I was finally happy to run with somebody. I think it's a pretty good match, which was later confirmed when she announced to her friends that I was the one who pushed her to do 9 miles. Huh, somebody who enjoys teasing, that doesn't sound like anybody I know! So mark this on the calendar, this is the first real positive to come from Run Camp.

Took a long time getting here, but the title of this entry. Yes, Run Camp does rub me the wrong way so far. Why the picture of the sand? The lesson for this week is when running long distances, clothes do tend to rub. It wasn't until I got home and jumped in the shower that I noticed my nipples felt very odd. After those two long seconds that took entirely too long to register why (I are so smart!), I realized that my shirt was rubbing to the point it felt like my shirt was made of sandpaper. Not anything major, in fact it's kind of funny, but that information was NOT given out in Run Camp. So, Week Two rubbed me the wrong way in both senses of the phrase...but the physical issue is correctable and the mental issue got a whole lot better based on my new partner.

(Yeah, I know I used this photo before for a prior blog entry, but I find it cool that it has sand in it for my sandpaper reference, but even more interesting is what I titled it back then, "5 miles Up" since it was the last 5 miles that things started to look up.)

Week 1

If I'm going to run a marathon in a few months, I probably shouldn't do my training at 7 pm (inside joke there). Even though I've completed 438 miles on my own since May, I decided to give Borgess Run Camp a try for a couple of reasons. The first being the most obvious, since they are putting on the marathon, one would think they would know how to train people for it. The second, I've heard good things about their program, plus I already knew a couple people participating in the program and it never hurts to have a few familiar faces around. The official start was today.

Well, I'm hoping that this is one case where first impressions are wrong. Today was a mixed bag of thoughts, some positive, some negative. Even though I'm surprised at the number of negative thoughts, it will probably make for better blogging, or at the very least it will be interesting to see how this plays out for the next 18 weeks. Most of my negative feelings come from I expected more. We picked groups based on our pace and those groups have team leaders. Granted, my group has three leaders, but by my count it also has twenty seven runners. I guess I expected a group size somewhat smaller. Maybe they expect a certain level of attrition, but the camp makes a big deal about knowing your fellow runners, there's no way I'm remembering twenty seven names! When I say I expected more, I didn't mean larger groups, I was hoping for a more personal feel.

Running has an interesting dynamic where it's really you versus yourself. Sure, you really are racing against other people, but at least for me, I have many conversations with myself as I'm doing it (as I look over my shoulder seeing if the guys with the straight jackets are coming). The past couple weeks when running with friends has been much different than running alone, the runs with friends have been much more enjoyable to me. I suppose what that really says is that I don't like having to talk to myself! I was expecting Run Camp to be more social than it was the first day. I figured we'd get into our groups, then do some kind of introduction to get at least some idea of the various types of people. Instead, it was form into groups, go outside do some quick stretches, then start running. At some point during the stretches after I saw about the sixth person put in their headphones, I figured there wouldn't be much conversation during our run and broke out my own headphones (which I wasn't planning on using, but had them with me just in case). At this point, I found humor in fact I joined a group to run, but I was pretty much running by myself, let the fun conversations with myself start.

The run itself didn't go as I would have expected either. Though we started out in what I'd call a herd, by mile 2.5, we were already fairly spaced apart. Where I'd expect the team leaders to act as herders, by mile 3 we were on our own. Then finishing, again I expected at least some kind of interaction of "how did it go?", "here's the plan for the week", etc or even some kind of group huddle. Instead it was only the three or four of us that pretty much stuck together for the run, grab some snacks, check-in that you are back and that's it. For a group run, it didn't stay a group for very long. Weird.

Even though I don't have anything positive to say about the overall experience, I really did enjoy the run. There was a fair amount of black ice out there and it made for a very interesting feeling between running and skating. After mile 3, something clicked and I think I smiled the whole way back. The temp was perfect, I felt comfortable on the roads and my footing, and my body felt awesome. I don't ever remember smiling on the second half of whatever distance I'm going before, normally I'm sure it's a face of anguish.

18 weeks to go, hopefully I didn't pay money to run by myself. I struggled deciding which pace to go with, it's probably still too early to tell, but that pace felt good. I'm still somewhat torn because I'd like to run with friends, but at the same time I'd like to push myself with my pace. Since one of the themes of Run Camp is being positive, my positive outlook is at least with my group, when running on the road my chances of being hit by a car are greatly reduced...lets say 1 in 27. Maybe I'm wrong with my gut feelings and things will work themselves out after week 2.

Surface Swrun

I get enjoyment when things that logically don't seem to go together, but end up making a pretty good pairing. Running in the winter could be one example for sure. Another, on this night, was seven divers getting together to run a 5K. With the season over for the most part, in both sports, this fun run came at the right time. Divers are a unique bunch and one thing I've noticed is if one of us is doing something, others get very interested and it suddenly becomes maybe I should do that too. This can be both bad (lets push the limits at little more than we should) and good (in this case, lets be more healthy and push ourselves).

The Run Through The Lights race was a free event with a food donation and looped around downtown Kalamazoo. It wasn't a timed event, so it was more of a fun event, but for the two people in our group who hadn't run a 5K before, it was a good starting point. One of who was deathly afraid of finishing last, yet I watched her sprint at the end (and for the record wasn't even close to finishing last). The other new person was already planning on getting us to do a small triathlon together for next year. So, from that point, I think our outing was a huge success. But based on the participation, I have to imagine the whole event was also a success. I think my overall favorite part were the reactions from people in cars as they all had looks of surprise, shock, and maybe even fear as this giant mob of people were running at them. Based on the huge crowd, which was suppose to stick to the sidewalks but we spilled out into the road and took a single lane of traffic too.

One lesson from the night, even though divers seem to be able to talk their fellow divers into some things, it's only by doing. Afterward for dinner to celebrate, none of us could convince the other to attempt The Bomb Burger. It's only a full pound of beef and another pound of fries, yet without actually seeing somebody DO IT, we all passed on that challenge!

Jingle All The Way

What do I do when the weather starts getting cold? Well, logic says getting out and running of course! Okay, that makes absolutely no sense. In fact, even saying that out loud I expect the guys with the straight jackets to show up. Yet, here I am standing outside in 39 degree weather getting ready to run 3.1 miles. Do you think that's crazy? This is actually a heat wave, two weeks ago I was standing outside at 8 AM, on a Saturday, in 19 degrees to run 4 miles! What the hell is going on?

This is the Jingle Bell 5K. I do like my causes, this race was to help raise funds to fight arthritis, but with every "cause" I choose to support there is usually some ulterior motive. On the surface, this was a run for my Dad. Arthur, our name for arthritis, is pretty darn mean to him. I can't do a damn thing to take the pain away and my measly contribution to run in this race won't find a cure, but running this race makes me appreciate the ability to do something like this probably more than most. I definitely take for granted moving without pain, yet knowing what he goes through, is a reminder to me that someday it's very possible I won't be able to do something like this based on my body not allowing it. When and if that day comes, I don't want to think back and regret not doing something when I could have.

So, standing in freezing temps for this race to start, no big deal. The gun fired, it was pure frustration for the first two minutes trying to get around the mob. Once clear, I swear it feels like that moment in Forest Gump where young Forest's leg braces fall off, his eyes twinkle, and he's off. It felt awesome. My goal was to run the first two miles hard, then coast and use what energy I had left to finish. I'm still working on that "wall" not being there, but I can't run at the pace I want for the whole duration of the race, yet. Running with a my stupid Santa hat on also proved to be slight challenge. Though great pre-race to stay warm, proved very warm at about mile 2.5, so I actually took it off and carried it for a short time. Also, since it was the Jingle Bell race, we all had bells attached to our shoes. Thank goodness for headphones and music, but the real challenge was paying close attention because those bells had a tendency to fall off people. I didn't want to be "that story" of the person who stepped on a bell and ended up breaking something!

Being only my third race, I'm very aware of the stages, excitement, adrenalin, this feels good, this feels okay, how much longer, and damn I'm tired. I'm sure there are a few more, but as I got closer to the end I was tired. Every race so far, I found a villain, somebody who I have to beat. I made it almost to the end before I found my villain. A guy who had already finished the race, came back to meet what I'm assuming was his wife. On the surface, a very nice thing to do. But, she was behind me and seeing him, definitely gave her second wind as she passed me to join him. In my head I actually thought to myself that sucks, I don't think I have the energy to catch her and that's all she needed to push ahead. No sooner did I get myself somewhat depressed about that, then I saw Becca, who wasn't racing and decided to take pictures. That was all I needed, now I had my own cheering section, sorry villain, but I found a whole new gear. Bested her by ten seconds, which brings me to what I learned this race, all pain stops the second that finish line is crossed. Amazing how that works.

Overall, my time was eight seconds slower than my last race. But with my previous running blog entry, the numbers don't tell the whole story. This race was pure gun time, with as far back as I started, the final results don't say it, but I know I easily beat my previous time, which I'm pretty proud of.

Back to my causes and my ulterior motive. On the surface, definitely the perfect race for my Dad, helping to fight Aurthur and bells on my shoes. Seriously, I had the bells on my shoes, just like when I was a baby and he knew once those bells stopped, I was into trouble! But, lets not get into those stories. My ulterior motive, goes back to goals. I'm not running the half marathon in the spring, I'm going to Jingle All The Way, I'm running the FULL marathon!

A Dive Party Contest, Results (in Running)

The Dry Dive Party has turned into a tradition for us, this was our third year in a row attending. It's good to see our diver friends, hang out, enjoy some food, but lets be honest, it's more about winning a prize! This year was slightly different than previous years, where prizes were luck of the draw, instead it was a photo contest to celebrate our Dive Shop's 30th Anniversary. Talk about right up our alley.

Every party, there is always some social type game going on. We were each given a wrist ban and the object was to collect as many of them as you could. When somebody said dive, diver, or diving and you noticed, that entitled you to take all the wrist bans they had collect. Though I wasn't planning on trying to trick anybody into giving me their band, I wasn't going to let anybody take mine. The easiest way to not slip was not to talk about diving, that was my strategy. Turns out a couple of other people must of had the same idea, because I spent most of my time talking about running. I successfully kept my wrist band, but in the process I may have lost my mind, because I got talked into running the Kalamazoo Marathon. My goal for next year was to do a 10K, but valid points were made that I should at least do a half marathon. I'm now officially signed up for the half, though I going to attempt to approach training like I'm doing the full, because it would be awesome to get that crossed off my bucket list.

Back to the contest, I had big plans and many ideas for cool shots that would win me the big prize. As it turns out, the only pictures we took were from a single dive. Yeah, I still have lots of slacker left in me. I honestly didn't think we took any that were prize worthy, but Becca forced me to submit what we had anyway, couldn't hurt, right? Turns out the one that I had the highest hopes won us 3rd runner up! So, the evening ended a runner up and runner to be.

One of those moments, in Tea Time

Traveling four thousand miles round trip, driving another two thousand miles by car, one state park, one national park, and four national forests...oh yeah and a brief stop in Vegas all while visiting an old friend should create many memories. The memory that is going to stick with me forever is Tea. Seriously?

I actually did have the inclination to pick a couple other events from the trip as my favorite. Having a wild coyote casually stroll within a few feet in a National Forrest was damn cool. Getting stopped less than thirty minutes in the Casino for being underage and having the security guard guess I was 23, now that was a highlight! But when I really sat back and thought about it, this Tea Event has every element of my relationship with John wrapped into one unique experience, the main being torture to force the other person to try something new, but also that special moment when thinking back to it, it brings an immediate smile to my face.

Barely off the plane I found myself in downtown San Fransisco. John was courteous enough to put the car in park as I put my bags in the car, I think. Did I mention I flew into San Jose? Anyway, it seemed like we were on a mission. Even though part of me thought this was John being spontaneous, he did seem to be checking his phone often for directions, which seemed odd to me. With one turn the signs went from being completely legible to being completely foreign. You guessed it, we were now in China Town. Next thing I know I'm standing in a 20x40 closet of a Tea Store. About to tease John about taking a wrong turn, when I realize this was the mission as John sits down to one of the two baby tables. Now, I'm game for almost anything, but in our relationship making the person try something new....that is the game within the game.

At this point, I should say the extent of my tea experience is Lipton. My world of tea drinking not only was going to get expanded, but I'll say shattered. It's impossible that this blog entry is going to include every detail, or do a very good job of explaining the depth of what went on for the next hour, so as the reader you are really cheated of this experience based on I'm not a writer.

John immediately began chatting with the Tea Girl about his preferences. I admit it, I completely zoned out and worked on taking in the ambiance of this shop. In the back, what I can only assume were mom and dad running the cash register. One wall was filled with row after row of what looked to be urns. The opposite was was filled with tea sets that looked like they were designed for children. It wasn't because they looked like toys, they were beautifully designed out various materials, but looked like tea sets mice would use.

By this time John and the the Tea Lady decided on the first tea we were going to sample. At this point I'm going to throw it out there I'm fairly skeptical, yet I still wasn't exactly sure what we were doing in a tea store in China Town. The Tea Lady went to the wall of urns, selected an urn, then brought it to us. After removing the top, we were presented the tea for aroma testing. I don't have a clue what bad tea smells like, nor could I tell you what great tea should smell like. What I can tell you, is this tea smelled EXACTLY like my cat's catnip! I admit it, I did start looking out the corner of my eyes now paranoid I was about to find myself on Candid Camera or Punked. But, nothing. The tasting continued. A small pinch of this catnip, whoops I mean tea, was placed in this small saucer, water was added, it was covered, and in a what looked like a precise motion the saucer was flipped over by her hand in some kind of tea ritual. That was a lot to digest there, believe me, there was even more going on. In that process, I know my eyes had the look of "are you serious" as the water came from not the traditional tea pot that I know, but from what looked like a Starbuck's Coffee cup with it's own built in heater slash temperature gauge appliance. I know we are taste testing and typically sample sizes are small, but are we really drinking warm flavored water and it's so important that water needs it be warmed by it's own personal jacuzzi in a cup not much bigger than a can of pop? (Like I said, I'm a little skeptical)

Tea Lady now pours from that saucer into three thimbles. I'm sure they have official names, I'm sure John knows them, but I'm basing my description on reality...these were thimbles! A sip later, bottoms up. I did find it cute that Tea Lady also drank with us, I wasn't prepared for the quiz afterward, I quickly learned that after every sip we needed to discuss what we liked about this particular tea. I was caught off guard by this, luckily towards the end, I thought I did a very good job of acting the part of a very interested customer with specific tastes. Oh, I had some much to learn though, I wasn't done yet. Tea's taste different based on the different "pours". That was only the first pour, the second pour (ie serving) would result in a different tastes. It probably was my novice status (or maybe skepticism), but the second and third pours tasted essentially the same, but by this time I was completely in awe of this whole process and couldn't resist acting the part of being very impressed with how the flavor changed over the various pours. At one point Tea Girl even suggested we slurp to get the full taste of the tea. With tea in mouth, suck air over the tea as drinking it down to get the full effect of the taste. This wasn't skepticism, but all I could think of was my mom would be so proud of me slurping tea.

The tasting continued to find John's tastes, but had to laugh Tea Girl also began to predict which teas I'd like, if she only knew. The Tea Girl was a complete wealth of knowledge. We must have tasted six to eight different teas, each had a story, sometimes Tea Girl even broke out the map and showed exactly which region of China this tea came from and what made it special. The whole time, the entire process of smelling the tea prior, making the tea, discussing after each sip, oh and I forgot we also smelled the used tea leaves after all the pours had been completed. Who knew? I certainly didn't and my tea drinking I learned leaves much to be desired. I suppose I could learn to open my Lipton tea packet with more pizazz.

The whole experience was classic John. After almost fifteen years apart, he found not only something on a level I had no idea existed, but the entire chain of events on the surface seems so silly to me based on how my mind works, yet I'm sure seems perfectly natural to him. I'll be utterly disappointed if his goal was simply tasting tea, because everything about this experience defines our relationship, hence was the best moment of my entire trip.

Oh, and for the record, John walked out with $120 worth of tea. The skeptical side of me says John got taken advantage of by an attractive Tea Girl! The logical side of me says $120 was a bargain for the entertainment value alone! We could have tipped $120, walked out without any tea, and then spent another $5 on a box of Lipton and still call it a successful trip.

It's Never Enough, Numbers Lie

My second 5K is in the books. I improved, yet I didn't. How's that for a politician's response? By the numbers, I didn't improve my time and after all that's how races are judged. I felt faster, my body felt better, yet according to the records I was slower than my first race. What the numbers don't tell is this course was actually measured correctly and it was a true 5K unlike my prior race.

All I can do is guess at what my first race should have been and by my estimation, I improved by about a minute and a half. I'm pretty proud of that. It might not be possible, but I did finish in the top 5 of my age group, now I have a taste for earning a medal. The season is coming to an end, but next season's lofty goal is placing in a race 5K and completing a 10K. Hey, if you are going to dream, dream big! (Running a 10K is going to be much easier than placing in a 5K)

Lets be honest, even if I get 3rd place next year, it won't be enough. I enjoy having a goal and getting it, but the real fun is trying to accomplish it. The same can be said for learning something new, which I always like to do. I did just that racing today which only causes me to shake my head. Granted, this is only my second official race, so my opinion means less than a handful of beans, but the fastest person from the start line to the finish line should win. When racing, there are two times, the gun time and the chip time. The gun time is when the race starts and when you cross the finish line. The chip time is when your shoe (because the chip is attached to it) crosses the start line and then when your shoe crosses the finish line.

What's the difference? Well, in a perfect world there wouldn't be any difference, but the reality is a few hundred people racing all can't start at the same starting line. For an example, in this race, it took me twelve seconds to reach the starting line after the "gun" was fired. Now, logical me would say awards would obviously be based on chip time because that's the true time. My lesson, per the fancy race organization, awards are always given based on gun time. It would be kind of strange to break the tape at the finish line, yet not win the race. But even with that mental image, to me, the fastest person is from point A to point B. If one person starts before the other person, should they really win? I did some looking and this exact situation has happened before in large marathons. A person who started back in the pack actually ran faster than the "winner". I now have a better sense to why people crowd the starting line now.

Just as my first race numbers don't tell the full truth, every race is now somewhat flawed to me. One person did finish ahead of me, only because they started much closer to the starting line than I did. I ran faster, even had to pass and deal with getting around more people, yet in the final results he finished ahead of me. So, even numbers lie sometimes. Oh, and for the record, when I place next year, you won't see my gun time being close to my chip time, signifying I pushed my way to the front to get an advantage!

Earned 5K

The days and even the minutes leading up to my first 5K were nerve racking. Had I trained hard enough? How would I do? What would my time be? Would I look like I belonged and knew what I was doing, or would I be the one who took a wrong turn and ended up off the course? All those questions and a million more raced through my until the gun fired. At that point, nerves turned to pure adrenaline and all those questions vanished to a single goal of finish!

When I set this challenge for myself, I really didn't know how it would go. As somebody who never ran more than a mile at one time prior to this, I think anything could be viewed as an accomplishment. Looking back on my records, my first 5K times were in the thirty-two minute range when practicing. Two months later, I was hovering at the twenty-six minute mark. At this point, I felt comfortable setting my goal for my first official 5K race to finish in the twenty-five minute range.

When that gun fired, throw all those practices out the window. Being squashed in that mob when everybody starts, it's a whole different feeling. Practices, it's your mind and your watch, that's it. The race, it's one thing to get passed by somebody who looks like a gazelle, it's a completely different story when getting passed by somebody who looks like they'd stop at a McDonald's along the race route. Take this for what's it's worth (meaning I'm not very fast), but I felt like I was shot out of a cannon. That first mile was by far the fastest I've ever ran. Maybe it was all the adrenaline, but it was exhilarating to pass people. What started as a mob, ten to twenty across, soon thinned out to a steady line of people only a few wide. At that point it became sizing people up. I knew full well I wouldn't be able to keep up the pace I started, but settled in pacing myself off a woman that had legs that looked taller than myself. I figured if I could keep up with her, I would be doing pretty darn good. Then the hill hit. This course was advertised as a "flat course" and perfect for PR's (Personal Records). I really questioned who thought this was a flat course the whole time I was running up this huge incline. Which, also separated me from my long legged friend, she was hell and gone by the time I reached the top of Mt. Saint-Flat.

I was tired, the jolt of energy from the start was long gone. Now the voice was saying "What were you thinking starting out that fast? Dumbass". Those few moments of self doubt turned to determination quickly when I spotted what looked like a 4'8" female ninja. I could understand finishing behind the woman giant, but finishing behind this woman with chipmunk legs couldn't possibly happen. Could it? For about a mile, even though my body wanted to stop and rest, I kept willing myself to keep going. It took me to the last corner before I finally was able to muster enough energy to overtake her, the whole time irritated that my legs are twice as long as hers and I'm the one trying to catch her.

The final corner, the finish line came into view. At this point, I knew I was going to accomplish my goal. What's that off in the distance, but the finish line clock and it's reading twenty-two minutes? Are you kidding me? I was gassed, but thought of coming that far under what I thought I could was the driving force to push the last few tenths of a mile. 22:56! A full three minutes better than I was even hoping for!

In the end, that time is misleading. Turns out even though it was an official race with the USRFTGSGE (not the right acronym but it's something crazy like that), I don't think they measure the course correctly. By my estimation, I think the course clocked in at 2.9 miles instead of the 3.1 it should have. Which also explains how I was able to beat my best practice time by three minutes. I know I ran it faster than my practices, but not THAT fast. Had the course been the right length, I'm still estimate I would have finished in the high twenty-fours, which would make more sense, but still beat my goal.

For my first race, it was very fun. I really didn't expect the completive side to kick in like it did. Another huge difference running the race as opposed to practicing out on a trail by yourself, it was awesome having people cheering you on along the way. There were definitely points where I wanted to stop and catch my breath a bit, yet with somebody cheering, I couldn't do it. I'm very curious what time would have been had the course been the correct length. I'm bummed that my first race is also going to be my fastest time for some time. Hopefully, not long, but until I beat that time, I will always feel it's a little hollow just because I know it's not accurate. So, even though I earned this 5K, now I have to earn the time I got!

Just Lookin, Honest

Now you have to sing this like the Mr. Roboto - Styx song:

Domo Arigato, Mrs. Robo
Domo Arigato, Mrs. Robo
Mata ahoo Hima de
Domo Arigato, Mrs. Robo
Himitsu wo Shiri tai

(How's that to an 80's flashback?)

After spending a few minutes in the pet store watching the antics of these Robo Dwarf Hamsters the other day, was there any doubt they wouldn't come home with me? By the look of it, I think Sweetie Pie may have even fallen in love with them faster. Even though two of them were the ones really playing, I couldn't break up the family, so all three came home with me. The triplets have adjusted to their new home fine. After about fifteen minutes of exploring they were comfortable enough to fall asleep. I've only seen narcolepsy set in that faster in my dad, so they must have realized they had a good home.

The real problem is going to be figuring out names for them. They are next to impossible to distinguish from one another. Becca has the idea of marking each of them with some paint to tell them apart. It really might come down to that, but I'm hoping their personalities will come out and it will be easy to figure out who is who.

Look forward to what adventures these little girls will have.

Only a Matter of Time

We stopped in to our local pet store for our routine pet supplies for the week. Every trip in includes window shopping all the animals. These Robo Dwarf Hamsters had us cracking up! We missed video an awesome crash, but this moment wasn't too far behind it. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we have these two characters as pets

Secret Agent L

Every once in a while the Internet surprises even me, well today I found this story: Secret Agent L

The Video explains everything. Great concept, story, and even better execution of her mission. Look forward to watching Secret Agent L's website and hopefully watch this Random Acts of Kindness thing go viral!

Goals

This picture is roughly ten years old. It was taken with a 3 mega-pixel camera, which happens to be the same mega-pixels my cell phone has (and it's probably time to upgrade it). The composition isn't great, the subject matter looks fairly boring, no fancy light and to most who look at it see only a car. What do I see? I see a accomplished goal and it makes that 3 mega-pixel picture seem like it's about 30 mega-pixels.

That car was not purchased on a whim, an impulse, or a love at first sight viewing on a dealer showroom floor. Months went by as I first researched the car itself. I built it virtually over and over again as I decided on the options. Test drives. Not to mention planning for if I could afford it and how comfortable I would be making the payments. Finally, the negotiating to not only get the price I wanted, but special ordering it to get it exactly the way I wanted it. Why go through all that, it was just a car, right? Well, it was and it wasn't. To me, it was a goal. This was going to be my first major purchase out on my own. It represented hard work and my personality on the exterior, but deep down it was the goal of successful completion of college and getting my first job.

Fast forward ten years and I've been working on another goal. Well, this bog entry is reminiscing about my first major goal, but really it's in celebration of completing my next major goal for myself which became official today.

(Even though I'm extremely proud of myself for my current accomplishment, looking back on that car, I miss it!)

Superman's Spaceship

This summer has been so busy, old hobbies are getting replaced by new hobbies. I probably shouldn't say replaced, it's just lack of time to do all of them. My digital camera has been collecting dust, instead of shots lately. This weekend was finally a visit to check out the Chihuly exhibit at Meijer Gardens. It's only been open since late April and this was my first visit.

I've been a fan (of the work) of Chihuly since first experiencing his exhibit in Kalamazoo a few years ago. As far as the artist, my impression is that he's pompous and arrogant and I'd probably hate him on a personal level. My overall impression of his works around the Gardens gave me the same impression. Yes, I completely enjoy the designs and appreciate them for what they are. Yet, there's another side of me that thinks it's ridiculous to place purple cat-tail things in a pond that is completely overgrown. Seriously, it almost resembles the crabgrass in my yard. That's the pompous arrogance that makes me want to punch artists in the face sometimes. I want my art to be visually stunning. If it looks like something I could do, then I have a hard time calling it good art.

It really was a great day experiencing the Gardens, the art, and nature with my parents. This one piece reminds me of the spaceship that brought Superman to Earth and it was a Super Day.

GFR

What is GFR? Here's a hint, it's not Good Foot Refreshment! This was some very cold water off of Mackinaw Island and it was refreshing, but the GFR I'm talking about is called Good Form Running. I suppose it could also stand for Good Free Running-advice, because that's what it ended up being.

This summer is coming dangerously close to the end and I'm slightly embarrassed how few places I frequent. There's the gym, I know I'm hanging out there much too often because the instructors are getting dangerously close to knowing me by name and though not quite at that point yet, they are learning it's fun to give me a tough time and that's dangerous (for me). Next, is the dive shop. There, they definitely know my name and I swear they make the cha-ching sound when I walk through the door. There's the trail I've been getting ready for my 5K on. We are not on speaking terms yet, but that my have to do with I usually give it the finger as I drive off frustrated. Lastly, is my new hang out, Gazelle Sports.

Gazelle Sports puts on a free clinic called Good Form Running (GFR) that I decided to check out tonight. Make no mistake about it, I've already decided a marathon runner I am not, but I am curious to know how I should be running to prevent injuries and overall what form I should have. You know, if you can't be good, at least look good that's my motto. They started out by having us run our normal pace a short distance. Then it got a little weird and they asked us to do the same thing but this time barefoot. This is the point that little voice and says "This is why it's free, they are going to steal your shoes!"

In the end, they didn't steal my shoes, maybe some dignity, but that's it. What they ended up doing is video taping our runs. Then they brought us inside to explain what Good Form Running is. After a brief explanation of the concepts, then it was analysis of our form in painstakingly slow-motion, high definition quality making sure to point out every instance of how we broke any of the rules of Good Form Running. (As a note to anybody who reads this, this might be a slight exaggeration, not to scare you off. I may have added a little extra drama)

The most interesting thing is after getting critiqued then the video started of us running barefoot and magically most of the flaws were gone. Does this mean throw out all your shoes, revolt, resort to ape like behavior? Probably not. Though, admit it, throwing your own poop would be fun! Did I just say that? Ahhh, who reads this anyway? But it's interesting how shoes have changed our natural running style, not for the better, but actually for the worse. I admit it, I like being shocked and I for one never gave much thought to how shoes over the years have added this huge padded heel. Anyway, the concepts are very interesting and definitely worth checking out if you have any interest in running.

Air Show 2010

It wouldn't be the 4th, without attending the Battle Creek Air Show with our VIP tickets. At least, that seems to be the tradition anyway. I know it's going to be difficult go back to general public admission after getting spoiled with the VIP tickets. When the temps are in the high 80's, blazing sun, it's nice to be able to stretch out, grab a free cold drink whenever you feel like it, and not have sweaty rednecks spilling beer on you. Though, I did seem to gain a special friend who found it necessary to chat with me the whole time I took pictures. Never in the down time between acts or during the acts I didn't care about, only the performances I wanted to take pictures of. Helpful!

This year was different from years past, a true headlining group wasn't booked for the air show. Instead, the showcase performance was a single plane, the F-22 Raptor. Overall, I do like watching the precision of multiple planes flying in formation, so this year was a bit of a let down. The Raptor is a very cool aircraft, it's not to say it's performance was lacking, it just didn't seem as exciting. Though in terms of awesomeness, the single F-22 could probably take on every other military plane at the air show, plus the Thunderbirds and the Blue Angles at the same time and shoot them all down. So, I wouldn't say I enjoyed the prior air shows better out of fear of what it could do to me.

I did get to see two other aircraft I hadn't seen before too, the Harrier and the F-4 Phantom. The Harrier was Becca's favorite. I can see why, a plane that can take off and hover like a helicopter is unique. I couldn't help tease her about it though, for much of it's performance all it did was stand still, which isn't much different than if was just parked on the ground!

They also had rides in a B-25 WWII medium bomber for $400. Even though it would be once in a lifetime type of experience, if I'm going to spend $400 for a plane ride, it better be taking me someplace tropical! Though, I suppose a Raptor ride, I could be talked into paying $400 and landing at the same airport I took off from.

Run Like the Wind, On A Calm Day

The health kick has started again. It started with The Quest to Find Abs back in Nov. 2008. The Abs never did get found, but I did get in pretty good shape for my trip, which was the real goal. The problem after the trip, most motivation was gone and with summer just around the corner, the thought of being active outside resulted in very few gym visits. Which only lead to the snowball affect, who says it doesn't snow in summer? Not all progress was lost, but it sure felt like it.

It has taken close to three months to undo the eight slacker months. This time around, it's been disheartening and slightly depressing because the scale hasn't cooperated or at least it's been very slow going. Which is somewhat humorous because in this second health kick, I'm actually paying attention to diet. One would think with being more health conscious with diet, this second time around things would have been easier. Not so. I'm also kicking myself for not taking body measurements before, mainly for my own curiosity. But it's easy to see progress with weights using my workout app for my phone. Though, I have to admit, the best source of motivation has come from two out of the blue compliments by people asking if I've been working out. I didn't even have to pay them, or drop any hints!

So, that's the back story, now to the actual goal. I think most people have finishing a marathon on their Bucket List. I'm no different. But unlike most with that dream, getting up off the couch and running a marathon is unrealistic, I know it. Lets face it, 26.2 miles is #$^@'ing crazy! Even though, I think it would be awesome to say I finished a marathon, that as a goal isn't even on the horizon. Hell, it might be a different planet even. If it's one thing I've learned in life is set small goals that put you towards your dream, not your dream as the goal.

My plan is simple, run a 5K, 10K, a half-marathon, then maybe a full marathon. It's great to say that, but then the next step (besides doing it) is committing to it, so I'm officially entered in my first 5K EVER, the St. Metro Cruise 5K! It's about two months away, so it gives me plenty of time to get some training in. Looking at some of the times posted from last year, I think the only chance I'd have at placing in the top three for my age group would be running with a baseball bat and going all Tonya Harding on people, so I won't be doing that. A goal of just finishing seems too easy on this one, so my personal goal is finishing with a time around 25 minutes. If I can do that, I'll be pretty damn happy.

You know me, if I'm doing something new, there's almost always a tech thing involved. I've got a phone app that tracks my progress, if you want to follow me without breaking a sweat, you can do so HERE.

C'mon wind!

Lessons Learned at 120ft

I'm about halfway through a book called Diver Down, it's about SCUBA related accidents. Why read a book that's basically true horror stories about the hobby I really enjoy doing? I could sum it up as the same reason people watch NASCAR (which will be the first and only time you ever see that word in this blog), for the crashes. The same reason we can't look away at the replay in super-slow-mo of the running backs knee bending the wrong way after the big hit. But, it's not for reasons like that. Really, it's about knowing what to do in the event of a problem. Though, I must admit, the title of the book should be Diver Down, Because of Poor Decisions Before Entering Water. So, I'm not really getting what I'd like from the book.

Some friends were heading down to the Quarry in Ohio for the weekend. We decided to join them, with our primary goal being diving the deep side and setting a new depth record. Once there, we had to file a deep dive plan and get it approved. That turned into being slightly more difficult because we were required to have one of five extra safety devices, none of which we had. Luckily, our friends had one, a small tank of air called a pony bottle, and they let us borrow it.

Down we went. The pony bottle was thought to be neutral buoyant, but when we reached the 80ft platform, I had my BC inflated more than I ever remember and I was still slowly sinking to the bottom. The little voice from the book said "maybe you should take some weight out", but I continued on. At the 117ft mark, Becca and I placed our hands out together and slowly dipped them down until our computers both read 120ft. Woot, our new goal! As tradition holds, it was high five time and no sooner did we do that when my regulator started free flowing. Our dive plan called for us only to stay down for five minutes or 2000 lbs of air left in our tanks. Becca had already began swimming to a boat that we could see, so she didn't know what was going on with me. The boat was so close, we weren't going to be down long, I figured I'd just keep my eye on how fast my air was going down. This is the point where I did actually think back to the book and I told myself, this is pretty much stupid decision time, and you are doing it. We got to the boat, but that time I was at around 2500 lbs, so it was going down faster than normal, but not that bad. We swam to one more boat and it's at that point I gave Becca the turn around signal and we went back to the platform.

At the platform, or at least the cables that reach to the bottom, I still had around 1800 lbs of air. By the time we reached the actual platform at 80 ft, I was under 1000 lbs. At this point, the heart got beating. Not only were we still down 80 ft, but we needed to do a three minute safety stop at 60ft, plus the normal one at 15ft. At 60ft, I attempted to show Becca what was going on. Looking at her, I could tell she was happy to break our record as she continued to smile happily as we looked at each other. I thought she would think it's odd how bubbles continually flowed from me, but she just happily smiled at me. Unable to think of a signal to explain to her, I choose the obvious of showing her how much air I had left. We are usually very similar with our air consumption on a dive, so when I showed her my computer with now 700 lbs of air in it, her eyes got as big as saucers. She immediately got ready to hand over her regulator if I needed it. I always knew I could fall back on that, but already had it in my head that 500 lbs was my cut over point. We probably stayed at our stop less than normal, but once I got to 500 lbs, I decided to head up again. Low and behold at 50ft my regulator stopped free flowing and all was well. I think I ended with around 300 lbs, which it's typically to end a dive with around 700 lbs. Normally we get a dive of around an hour in, this time it was about a sixteen minute dive.

Although it did get more exciting, it never got to a point where I was in any real danger. If anything, the pony bottle gave me more of an excuse to push on, just knowing I had it just in case. Talking it over with some experienced divers in our group, it was painfully obvious to hear how they would have dealt with the situation. But, that's also one thing that comes with experience. So, even though I'm reading about situations in that book, I think it's more helpful being in them and learning from them after. A new depth record, a few fast heart beats, and knowledge what to do next time we experience a free flow...made for a good dive.

Been Awhile

Talk about a desert wasteland, are you kidding me I haven't made a post since there was snow on the ground? Wow. I know what you're thinking, it must be because I've been so busy on crazy adventures all over the world...you know after winning the lotto. Okay, back to reality. Well, here's what I've been up to ! Think I had a birthday somewhere in there, did get started back in the gym routine again, some diving, and that's about it. Not exactly blog worthy events, so that's my excuse for not updating very often.

Anyway, I'm not dead and hope to add some adventures soon.

46 Degrees, Time to Ski

Remember how I posted how much skiing I was going to do this season? Well, that really didn't happen. Now, I could make all kinds of excuses to why that didn't happen, but lets face it, if I'm too lazy to ski, do you really think I'm going to spend time typing? The reality of the situation is I'm getting older and even though I'm awesome on skis, I chickened out with my vacation getting closer. Granted, I could have fun sitting on a beach in a cast, but I'd rather be diving and I doubt they make dive rated casts. Though I'm disappointed I didn't get more skiing in, what really pains me is the stack of unused free passes I have.

It was setup for a gorgeous week of weather and I knew it was now or never to use some of those free passes. I grabbed my ski buddy and off we went after work. The skiing wasn't the greatest, but the price was right! The lines were pretty good too, as in none, just how we like it! There were only a handful of people on the slopes and even though it felt like skiing on a giant Slushy, it was better then I expected. Since this was only my third time out this season, I decided not to break out the shorts....but I was tempted.

Very glad we got this last chance in. Turns out they closed on the 10th, may I interest you in buying a few free passes?

Photowalk Revisited

Almost two years ago, I experienced my first Photowalk. Though I've only gone once since, it has again caused a new experience, in an indirect way this time. The artist directly responsible for getting our Photowalk group together in the first place was back in town again, this time, displaying her work in an event called Art Hop.

Now, I had heard of Art Hop before...okay maybe I had barely heard of it before. My only knowledge of it had been passing a little grandma type woman in a parking garage and sharing a moment of our current travels. I had just cultured myself with what I'm sure was a violent movie at the theater and she on her way back from the Art Hop. She did say it was rather fun and I should give it a try, but I'm sure I wrote it off as the wine talking and not her based on her rosy checks. Having somebody I "knew" displaying their work was a much greater incentive to give it a try, so tonight was the sampling.

I'm learning that listening to little grandma types is probably decent advice (but you didn't hear that from me). It was a rather different experience and I can't say I had any real expectations, but it made for a fun evening. There was a good turnout with the number of people and one of the more enjoyable things which I find odd (seeing that I was there to look at art) was witnessing the people interactions. It seemed like every few minutes somebody was bumping into an old friend. It's strange how some small details stick, but I found myself wondering it was simply luck, happened to be lots of liked minded people together in a small area, if it just so happens that Kalamazoo is a perfect sized town, and if this phenomena would translate to larger cities or would disappear completely. Overall, the art, I thought was mediocre. I liked a few things, but not even close enough where I'd debate about purchasing, but that's art.

The next Art Hop is April 2nd, and I'll go again.

Little Cayman Day 6 - Best for Last

The briefing started just like all the dives this week, "60 minutes, max of 110 ft". Becca and I just looked at each other and smiled. Without a spoken word, I knew what she was thinking. Of course I was thinking the same thing, "max of 110, what are they going to do, kick us out on our last day?" At 113 ft I found not one, but two lionfish together. I'm going to take the blame for this, but the discovery of the lionfish changed the dive plan. It wasn't until we came up that I found out how bad Becca wanted to hit 120. In the end, our guide wasn't even around to catch the lionfish, so we missed our chance to increase our record. If I could do one thing over from this trip, we should have done this. I hate it when Responsible Mark shows up, when Cool Story Mark was a measly seven feet away.

The dive site was called the Bus Stop and I think I'll remember it for more reasons than missing my chance to hit 120 ft though. One of the women on the trip had a dream earlier in the week about one of our guides, Dottie, driving us on a bus instead of the boat and at some point either she was naked or we were all naked. Either way, it made for a funny visual and it summed up the attitude of the boat (group) for the week. We really did get paired up with a good group of people and it made the time spent on the surface enjoyable.

Apparently, stingrays like Bus Stops too because we ended up finding five of them. We spent a good chunk of time watching two playing together. I think it worked out well, once they separated, Becca and I tormented one of them with the camera and video camera while I hope the rest of our group could enjoy the other one. We also found one hiding, completely covered in sand, only eyes sticking out. Up until this point, never had I found two together, let alone one not moving.

The last dive of the vacation, I don't know if it was my imagination, but it sure felt like everybody was moving a little slower. Trying to conserve air, make the dive last a little longer and take in more. My final minutes of my underwater vacation were spent watching a hawksbill sea turtle having breakfast. He probably didn't think so, but I thought the moment was very peaceful. For once, no cameras, just enjoying the moment. Then it was time to come up. Even though this seemed like a deep moment for me and you begin to wonder if somebody else is writing this, I'll ruin it with this, at my safety stop I finished trying to buddy breath with a barracuda. Go figure the barracuda didn't want to share air, but I thought it would make for a humorous picture.

Even though I labeled this post as the Best for Last, it's really hard for me to pick what my favorite dive of the trip was. I absolutely loved diving the Tibbetts. The night dive, with the UFO squid was spectacular. The Bus Stop was also special in it's own way, so I'm calling it a universal tie.

It hardly seems fair, but our diving ended today. Sure we still have about twenty-four hours left on the island, but it went by so fast, even with the initial problems. I did get seventeen dives in (Becca got eighteen) and I did accomplish my one goal of seeing a shark, so I have to say in the end it turned out to be a great trip. When's the next one?

Little Cayman Day 5 - Night Life

I love to party! The girls, the dancing, the drinking, the smoking (did you know that the Caymans have Cuban Cigars) did I already mention the girls? Granted anybody reading this blog probably already knows me, but in case you don't, I'm going to let you in on a small secret, if I ever mention dancing in a positive way....it's a sure bet that I'm using sarcasm and watch out the BS is going to be getting deep.

Little Cayman is not Cancun, no spring breakers here. It's not Vegas, it definitely sleeps, usually by 8pm most nights. It does do it's impression of American (Idol) Karaoke on Friday night, which almost had me swimming to Cuba. The real night life, in my opinion, happens on Tuesday and Thursday the night dives. In our case, Thursday. As luck would have it, a buoy needed for navigation was missing on Tuesday, so we only got one night dive this trip.

Diving three times a day is tiring by itself. Today we did four, well most of us. Wait, make that only Becca and I. We were the only ones of our group to sign up to do the night dive, guess we know who the true divers were. It was an extra $60, which I thought a little pricey, but thinking back to our Cozumel trip, the night dives were my favorite. Just like our trip, the night dive started out slow. The first fifteen minutes of the dive, nothing. I did come face to face with a large barracuda, then a good sized lobster and then a lemon ray, but hardly something to make a cool dive. The whole time the little voice in my head, "I spent extra money on this?". A good sized crab eating, then small spotted lobster, a puffer and a turtle, better probably worth $30 at this point. Finally, an octopus and not just a brief glimpse, but a solid five minutes! Worth it! Then a bonus, a school of squid that looked like a formation of UFO's, now this is some night life!

The evening ended with a boat ride in what I can only describe as a planetarium. The number of stars visible from the resort far out numbered a typical sky back home, but on the boat away from the lights of shore, amazing! Yup, sign me up for the night life!

Little Cayman Day 4 - The Hunt

Now that the vacation turned into what it was suppose to be, I was ready for my secret wish to happen, seeing a shark. Though I knew Little Cayman was hardly the shark capital of the ocean, I had read reports that an occasional reef, hammerhead, or whale shark were sometimes visible along the walls. It just so happened that on our first dive of the morning at about ninety feet, I was able to give Becca the official signal for shark (hand to the top of the head, for fin out of the water JAWS made famous). Of course the reef shark was probably at a hundred and thirty feet, so a good forty feet below us, and hardly a man eater seeing as he'd probably choke trying to fit even a small extremity of mine in his six to eight foot body, but still our first official shark! Sure, we have seen a number of nurse sharks, but they don't count. Nurse sharks are just like my cats, they find a nice place to lay down and all they do is sleep. It wasn't up close and personal and it wasn't very big, but I'm calling this my first official shark dive.

One would think that seeing a shark would be the most memorable event of the dive, it wasn't. The king of the jungle (or is that deep in this case) is the Lion, okay make that Lionfish. The Lionfish are an invasive species that have the potential to change the reefs for the worse. Though actually very beautiful, they have a tremendous appetite and unfortunately don't have any natural predators, well besides Dottie and Phil (our dive guides). On this dive Dottie was with us and ended up catching and killing four of them. I was lucky enough to get video of her netting one and I believe Becca is the one who spotted it. Not to be outdone by Becca, I found my own and although I don't know if it's the one Phil caught, I'm pretending it was. For the day, our boat ended with seven confirmed kills, which by sounds of the complaining coming from the other (faster) boats, I think it was a record.

It was satisfying to think that I helped do my part to help keep the reefs safe. In the end, I know it didn't even scratch the surface of the problem. Although my resume shows lack of experience, I would like to make it known that any resort or island in the Caribbean willing to pay my way and fill my tanks, I'll gladly hunt Lionfish on every dive.

Little Cayman Day 3 - Wrecks, Always Make Me Smile

Smash, crash, shatter, break to smithereens, it doesn't matter on the verb describing what happened, the fact is, something was destroyed in a spectacular fashion when a wreck is involved. To say it's always been that way, is probably an understatement. Now, my dad would say that I did my fair share of wrecking things as a kid, mainly his radio equipment. Personally, I think I got blamed for the things he broke! I know I'm not alone when it comes to viewing carnage though, any time spent backed up on the expressway, it's almost always because people are rubber-necking an accident, so I'm not the only one.

This trip had the makings of a small train wreck in progress the way it started out. Who knew that an actual wreck would get the trip back on course though? For a mere $30 extra, we had the opportunity to take our boat over to the sister island of Cayman Brac to check out a sunken Soviet frigate, designated 356, but called the Tibbetts after the man who had her sunk. Diving purists I'm sure will scoff at the thought of diving a wreck sunk on purpose, but I don't care. Little Cayman is known for it's wall diving, Cayman Brac seems to be known for this wreck. The thought of accomplishing both types of dives on two different islands on the same trip was far too tempting, so Becca and I were the first ones to sign up for the trip.

The boat ride out was about forty-five minutes, which wasn't too bad. They did give us the more reliable boat, which meant it was almost twice as fast as the barge they stuck us on for the week. The seas were choppy that morning and I know Becca was happy to get in the water after bouncing across the waves (I think she was most concerned about also feeding the fish, and didn't want to take the title from me).

I have no idea what the rush was, but all the divers went rushing to the bow once in the water. That worked out perfect for Becca and I. We dropped down to the aft of the ship, swam along the starboard side nice and slow. By the time we got to the bow, everyone was gone, then we came up the port side and back to the aft again where we came up. Even though we had 15 to 18 people on the boat, the two of us were alone for almost the entire dive, which was awesome for pictures and video. I honestly don't care if that ship was sunk on purpose, it was frigg'n (frigging because it's a frigate) cool! When the Tibbetts was sunk, it's bow came to rest over a small shelf and a subsequent storm cracked the bow down the incline. Even though I know better, it looks like it struck a mine and suffered a horrible death. This development only adds to the wreck's personality.

This dive is one of my favorites to date. The ship was so easy to see with the visibility, it hasn't been on the bottom long, but has plenty of life around it already. With as serious as we take diving, it also provided us a chance to get pictures of us riding the guns and bow, so it had every element to make it a memorable dive (cool, yet give us an opportunity to goof off) and it was perfect timing to provide a change of pace to all the wall diving we had been doing.

Doesn't matter the circumstances with how it got that way, a good wreck always makes me smile! Officially, this was the turning point of the trip.

Little Cayman Day 2 - What goes down, comes back up

Sure glad that all the problems of the trip were behind us now! I spent extra time and care putting my new camera housing together, after all this morning would be it's first official dive. To say anticipation was flowing through the veins would be an understatement. All the gear was assembled prior to breakfast.

At breakfast, I had some cold cereal, bacon, a danish, and some OJ. There did seem to be some confusion though, apparently the act of pointing to her seat is the Jamaican symbol for wanting two omelets, because Becca ended up with two cheese and ham omelets. I was perfectly content with my breakfast, but to help my dive buddy not look wasteful with her order, I forced down an omelet. Good thing that wetsuit of mine stretches!

Dive time! Our dive site for the morning was the Mixing Bowl. I've heard wonderful things about this site. I can't wait to be able to dive my own gear to the 110 ft limit, play around with my new camera, and check out this famous site. This turtle, I've decided is my first subject, we bonded, and he/she posed for me along the wall. After the wall, the Mixing Bowl has white sand bottom good for rays and smaller things. It was at this point I had a headache starting, so I decided to hand the camera over to Becca and relax for the rest of the dive. We continued the dive until we got back under the boat. I didn't think my headache was too odd, but now I started feeling a little queasy. I gave Becca the signal that I wanted to go up, but she still had three minutes to go for her safety stop. I didn't feel great, but I didn't feel horrible so I decided to hang out with her. A small barracuda decided to chill with us at our safety stop. The three minutes passed, up we went, at five feet from the surface my stomach turned upside down. I broke the surface, pulled my regulator out of my mouth and out came breakfast. Now, there's a reason they call it feeding the fish, breakfast didn't agree with me, but the fish sure loved it as they swarmed me. Granted, you never feel great when you are vomiting, but all I could think about was that barracuda rushing in to take out one of these fish and leaving me with bite marks, vomiting was the least of my worries that that moment in time. Luckily, nothing happened and my imagination was greater than a stray bite.

I got on the boat looking even more white than the day I arrived on the island, if that's possible. Of course the crew of the boat were concerned that I did something stupid and they would need to put me on oxygen. The only real treatment I needed was keeping me away from those omelets in the morning, and I learned that lesson all on my own!

I did sit out the next dive, which of course I felt fine fifteen minutes after everybody went down, but it probably was for the best anyway. Up until this point, I thought my navigating the South Haven pier would be my most embarrassing dive moment. I suppose it's still probably worse, but expelling breakfast on calm seas isn't a very proud moment either! Thanks dive buddy, I owe you for this! I suppose it doesn't matter in the end, provided when we go down, we both come back up.

Little Cayman Day 1 - Rental

The day started waking up at 6 am (which was planned) to the ceiling fan slowly spinning down and coming to a stop. Odd. Did we just lose power? Sure enough, the power went out. What a way to start a vacation! Did you know that on Little Cayman the water doesn't work when the power is out? So much for a shower. At this point, I actually made the comment to Becca that "at least we are guaranteed the sun will come up". Her response, "I'm not so sure". The good news is the power outage only lasted 45 minutes.

First order of business was getting down to the dive shop and securing rental gear. It wasn't a thrilling prospect not having my gear to dive with, but this trip would quickly turn to a disaster if I missed dives. Talk about insult to injury, this trip already had a feel of a Nation Lampoon's Vacation movie in the making, but I was very surprised with dive shop and I saw a glimmer of hope that the vacation would get back on track. Luggage not showing up must be a common occurrence because within just a few minutes, they had me outfitted with everything I needed to not miss any dives. Even though I was grateful to have rental gear, if my gear has feelings, I want it known how much I love it...there is NO COMPARISON!

The morning brought more good news, because a number of other people in our group were also missing luggage, the morning dives would leave a little later in the morning to allow the first plane to hopefully bring more bags. Another interesting fact about Little Cayman, there are no runway lights, planes only land in day light. The first plane landed, the bags were rushed to the dock we were standing on, the news only three bags didn't make it. Can you guess it? Of the three bags that didn't make it, Becca and I were two of them! Talk about the unlucky of the lucky.

There was no way I was getting in the water with my expensive new camera gear with rental gear I never dove before, so the goal of the day was avoiding whatever other bad luck lay in wait in the depths for us (mainly that shark). Keeping with the theme of karma, though our boat was very nice with lots of room, it was suffering from mechanical problems and was the slowest boat of the fleet. Our group was humiliated a couple times as the other boats passed us, once signaled by the swimming motion and the worse one, getting mooned by some very white butts.

Only experiencing Cozumel, I figured our first dives would be to less popular spots to let the dive masters check out how competent we were. Once in the water, my first thought was that if this is a "bad" spot, I can't wait see a "good" one. The purple coral fans along with the color and condition of the coral was amazing. It was also very apparent how impressive and shear the wall is on Little Cayman. At one point there is bottom at 40 feet, swim another 20 feet, and the bottom is completely gone to a very dark blue nothingness. There isn't gradual anything, it's either bottom or no bottom.

Our luggage did show up at some point and our gear was waiting for us outside our room when we got back to the resort after the first two dives. I didn't run up and hug it, but I did look forward to being able to dive deeper than 60 feet and not have it feel like I was breathing through a straw!

The highlights of the day included seeing a sea slug moving. I know that doesn't sound exciting, but it was cool to finally see one moving. Up until this point the only sea slugs we saw were, umm slugs. Think of a caterpillar underwater. On the second dive we did a fun swim through called Marilyn's Cut. The story goes that Marilyn cut her finger on some coral and it attracted some sharks, so she hid from them in this swim through until the sharks gave up. On this dive, we witnessed something that only happens once a year, a school of thirty-eight grouper swimming to the west end of the island for their spawning season. The last memorable event of the day was watching an iguana eat a cherry from a drink. I didn't see any cherry trees on the island, but apparently this lizard acquired a taste for them and learned if he hung around the bar at night, his chances vastly improved at finding them.

Extra Lead

Dec. 3rd:

Becca - "Our trip is approaching, put any thought into getting an underwater housing for your good camera?"

Mark - "Part of me says we spend too much time messing with camera stuff, I'm thinking this next trip we should leave the gear on the surface and go down and enjoy the moment."

Jan 7th:

Mark - "You know, it would be nice to come back with some great pictures, maybe I'll just check out what options I have."

Jan 8th:

Mark - "Becca, how much room do you have in your luggage? Oh yeah, and you can forget about any comment I made about diving and enjoying the moment"

Becca - "Thought so!"


What started as good intentions of trying to burn in some great memories of a fantastic dive a month ago, not to mention being financially responsible, quickly changed as our vacation drew ever closer. The reality of the situation is, I have my parents genes and I see their failing memories, there is no way I'm taking a chance forgetting something cool! These trips don't happen as often as I like, I have to have something to capture the moment with something more than just my mind, I want hard copies...you know just in case my mind fails. Plus, it's darn fun to have new toys to play with.

First there is the housing, to keep the camera safe. Then two ports were needed for the two different types of lenses. Finally, a strobe to make all the colors pop. When it was said and done, my wallet is what went on a diet this month. So, I'll be wearing extra lead for my sudden weight loss this trip. But, all it takes is that one shot to make it all worth it though.

Vacation, here we come!