I Love this Game

"One-thirty interval. Change leads every 500. Fuel stop every 2,500." This kicked off 2 hours and 4.6 miles of swimming this morning. While 75 repetitions of a 100-yard swim sounds intimidating (and boring) when simply described as "75 by 100 yards," the actual event is far from either.

Below are a few of the things I most enjoy about this swim:

-You only have to count to five. 5 x 100. And you only have to count when you are leading. The rest of the workout is measured by progression through leader changes. We had ten people in the lane this morning, so we were done when the fifth person completed his second lead.

-Freedom from the tyranny tallying distances means I can let my mind wander while my body works. What do I want for breakfast? What wines will go best with Christmas dinner? How many doughnuts did Mike bring to practice this morning, and what can I trade him for one? What other name could we give Bunivan? What if the doctor was wrong and he is a she...we'd need some new names. What do people really mean when they say, "Your world is going to change forever." These thoughts play out to my mental jukebox that has the last song playing when I pulled into the parking lot on repeat -- "From Yesterday" by 30 Seconds to Mars this morning.

-Drafting converts an individual sport to a team one. While most workouts expect each swimmer to leave five seconds behind the one in front of him/her, this event resembles the Team Time Trial in a cycling Grand Tour. Each swimmer is responsible for holding the draft of the swimmer in front and passing that benefit on to the swimmer behind. One of my teammates expressed concern over recently sporadic workout attendance prior to the start of this morning's workout. And when he integrated into the 10-person pace-line, he had a great swim. No one gets left behind.

-Endorphins feel good. And two hours of constant swimming produces an abundance of them.

-Breakfast tastes great. The banana I ate immediately after was the best fruit I have ever consumed. The bear claw that Tex procured was dangerously good. Bacon, egg and cheese on an asiago bagel provided substance, and Peet's coffee completed the morning and the swim's daydream.

-HammerHead

Thanksgiving Thought #1

I am thankful that I am not looking at one of these this week:


Nothing against 747's (in fact my favorite plane), but I am enjoying being home after two weeks abroad. Lindsay is even more fun than I remembered. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she is "laughing (and kicking) for two." Maybe absence does have some positive externalities, but I don't even care that our heaters aren't working.

I am thankful to be back in the pool and to swim with a lane that coordinated pacing and lead changes this morning so that I could completely space out for at least 3k of the 5k yards. And I am glad that my wing-person was also counting the laps I led...since I spaced out then too. (I had a really good Linkin Park song going.)

I am thankful that economists predict an increase in consumer spending this Holiday Season...and that I will not be participating in Black Friday. Though on the work front I am thankful that my team's role has grown in 2009. Now we just need to catch a draft off of that Holiday spending wave and ride it into 2010.

-Wallace

Growing Up

I thought that I had been away from the pool for a long time, until I saw how long it had been since I posted to this blog. But August 11 provided an afternoon that warranted a post.

At 3.00 pm Lindsay and I saw the 12-week ultrasound pictures of Bunivan (temporary name of our pending new family member. Forecast arrival - February 17.)

At 5.00 pm we signed a ream of paperwork at Chicago Title, concurrently taking ownership of our first house...and our first mortgage.

Marriage didn't scare me. Parenthood and home ownership did. I used to refer to a child as "a half-million dollar liability amortized over 20 years" as a way to position for a smaller family when Lindsay and I designed the future. Fortunately, mortgages are amortized over 30 years.

Did I really think of children so coldly? Of course not. I was just scared that I didn't have my life in enough order to responsibly support them. Fortunately a colleague of mine put this into perspective earlier this year:

"Do you have children?"

"Not yet. They're in the plan, but not in the forecast."

"Just don't wait for the budget."

The answer to "What happened? What changed?" is really not that interesting. Lindsay knew that I didn't really believe the FUD (fear, uncertainty & doubt) I was spreading, and we moved forward.

The scary thing is that I think that I have our life (or at least the next two years) well-planned. Though I am sure that I am missing something...and that it will make good material for future posts.

-HammerHead

Valentines Day and Inelastic Supply Curves

As I drove to work this morning the radio was filled with horror stories of Valentine's Day upsets. Most sounded like a product of the sudden spike in demand for goods and services (flowers, nice dinners, hotel reservations) coupled with the fact that most vendors cannot adequately increase supply to meet this demand for a single day. So what happens?

Restaurants fit 20% more tables into the same space and operate with 20% less staff while offering a reduced number of menu options and call it "prix fix."

Florists increase prices by 50% and never seem to have enough of those honkin'-big Ecuadorian roses that you saw last spring.

Why? Because on February 14 the demand curve for flowers and restaurant reservations shifts dramatically, and temporarily, to the right...much farther and much faster than the supply curve can shift. Prices rise. Quality drops like the fickle souffles that restaurant general managers try to sell once a year (and this is not an area where one can decouple selling and delivery.)

And to complicate things further, expectations rise.

A friend of mine taught me a useful formula:

Happiness = (Reality) / (Expectations)

So in many ways, celebrating Valentine's Day on February 14 is a setup for an upset.

This is not always the case. For those readers who celebrated a Valentine's Day on February 14 that met or exceeded expectations...your significant other should be doubly acknowledged.

If your celebration did not meet expectations, I invite you to reevaluate where the miss happened and consider how many factors were within your significant other's control (on that day.)

And to those who are looking for an alternative to the above slippery-sloped supply-side cycle - consider picking a different date to celebrate Valentine's Day. Travel schedules revealed this trick to my wife and I as we have been in different states/countries on February 14 for the past two years. So we have celebrated Valentine's Day on alternate dates. It has been a lot of fun and substantially less stressful on us and our floral / cuisine partners. We really did discover this by chance, but I am kind of fond of it. This year we are celebrating on February 21. Next year...oh, that's a secret.

-HammerHead

Christmas in Ranthambore

We had Christmas dinner with Ateeq's family in Ranthambore, or actually, a village just outside of Ranthambore. What a meal! His wife and mother fed us "Grandma Holland Style." They stuffed us. Mutton kebabs, chicken curries, mutton curries and biryanis and...palak paneer! (Think of creamed spinach with fried chunks of fried ricotta cheese - my favorite Indian dish.) All dishes were wonderful, home-cooked, from scratch and bottomless. I stopped short of taking the last of the palak paneer on its first passing. Ateeq's wife, Nilu, laughed. It reappeared refilled twice that night and would have a third time had I not protested that I had no ability to eat any more. Bread operated the same way - fresh baked and replaced before it could get cold.



As amazing as the food was, the most significant feature of the evening was the warmth of our welcome. Ateeq's entire family (less his brother, who was also leading a tour group) greeted us as if we were old friends. Nilu gave Lindsay and my mother fabric for traditional North Indian salwar kurtas. I scratched my head briefly and wondered, "How do we convert this beautiful fabric into garments?" The family's tailor arrived ten minutes later to take their measurements and answer my question. Their garments were ready the next evening.



I will delve into observations and opinions on the role of religion in India in a later entry, but for now I will just say that I will never forget having Christmas dinner with a Muslim family in a Hindu country.

Sightseeing in Udaipur

My mom still turns heads. The silver jewelry, peacock scarf and colorful purse certainly attracted attention at the City Palace today. One man decided to follow her (a bit too closely) as we walked to the ferry dock. Mom held his attention well enough that he did not notice Lindsay and me next to him. "I haven't seen anyone yet that I would have any trouble tackling," Lindsay commented.

Mom's admirer moved on and we explored the palaces in the middle of the lake. One was built by a prince when his father refused to let him "borrow" his mid-lake pleasure palace. So the son built his own - much larger. It is now the Taj Hotel Lake Palace.



We had lunch at a much smaller mid-lake hotel. While it only has eight rooms, the staff was starting preparations for the New Year's Eve celebration on December 28.

Sunday Redlines

10 x 100 free for best average is usually one of my favorite workouts. I usually sprint the first three pieces with reckless abandon thinking "pride will overcome lactic acid" for the next seven pieces.

Sunday morning I had a momentary crisis-in-confidence. I brought the first piece in at 1:15 and said to my lane-mate, "Maybe I should back it off a bit."

I don't remember her exact words, but the message was, "Bull Sh_t! Hold the 1:15."

We did. It hurt, and it was worth it.

Teammates.

-HammerHead

Sunrise in Agra

Sun just rose over the Taj Mahal. The Fsmog (fog + smog) certainly obscured part of it, but the 7.30 am afterglow is impressive. The calls to prayer at 6.00 am set the tone for the sun's rise. Lindsay took some excellent photos. After a battery failure on the way to Agra, the camera is fully charged this morning.

We saw several people lose their camera's inside the Taj Mahal yesterday. But that's what happens when you try to "sneak" a flash photo in the pitch black area beneath the dome. They were swift confiscations.

Our guides warned us that persistent, young salesmen would meet us as we walked to the Taj Mahal yesterday. Mom was friendly. I explained that the young hawker had no interest in her friendship. I told him that he should go talk to a prospect that actually had intent to buy, since we did not. (As a salesman, I consider it a matter of professional courtesy not to waste the time of someone that is on quota.) He persisted. I started making up stories. He pointed to Lindsay and asked who she was. "Girlfriend. Don't tell my wife."

All commerce and commentary aside, it is a breathtaking building...built by a heartbroken emperor in memory of his wife.

-Jawbones

Back on the Grid

Wow. It felt good to go "off the grid." I must admit that I did peek at personal email a few times (who knew my iPhone would work in Rajasthan), but unplugging from the internet made the time I spent in India with Lindsay and Mom more memorable.

I relied on a journal (and Lindsay's photographic skill) to catalog the trip. I hope you enjoy the entries that follow (in no particular order.)

-Jawbones