Jim’s Brain Online

Posted by Jim at May 30th, 2007

Wow. Though it’s not over yet, May has been a new low in writing blog entries. I’ve managed to write only three this month (not counting this one) one of which had what, three sentences? For what it’s worth, I have been writing. It’s just that most writing I’ve been doing lately has been on my novel. The rest of my time has been spent reading books (most of it) and playing video games (a little). For example, last night I spent a few hours dying while playing Star Wars Battlefront 2.

As evidence that I’ve even been trying to blog, I give you this entry about the River Bank Run that I started more than two weeks ago, but never finished till now.

Some of you may be curious how I did in the River Bank Run on May 12. I did OK though not incredibly well. I ran it in 2:25–which is about six minutes slower than last time. My goal had been to hit consistent 9 minute miles and finish around 2:20. Admittedly, two hours and twenty-five minutes isn’t that far off, but I’m still sure I could have done better.

I like to think that my slowness can be blamed on pulling a muscle in the course of training. This is at least partially true, but it wasn’t a really bad pulled muscle. I could feel some soreness when I walked, but no pain and I had full range of motion in the leg.

When I called the doctor I was told that I could run, but if I felt extreme pain at some point during the run I needed to stop immediately.

I like to think that I would have done that anyway.

The beginning of the run went phenomenally well. I was running consistent 8:49 minute miles through about the halfway mark. Actually, that’s just what the official race splits say. As I remember things, I did decently until mile 10 or so.

That’s when I began to hit the really bad hills.

At first I was okay even then, but ultimately I couldn’t make myself continue at a consistent speed. I let myself walk a little while and then did it several more times (all rather briefly) despite the fact that running felt better in some ways than walking.

That’s when I lost a lot of ground, getting passed by a number of people–including Spiderman and my cousin Mike.

Some guy ran the race in a Spiderman costume. We passed each other a few times, but I ultimately lost out when I took a bathroom break. I didn’t see him after that.

As for my cousin… I didn’t even know he was running until Kristen noticed that he got a time about five minutes faster than mine.

As I ended the run, I reflected that I felt surprisingly good for having run that far. Approximately ten minutes later, I had to rethink that as my body’s endorphins wore off. I felt the pulled muscle quite well, but that was balanced out by the fact that my other leg felt just as bad for different reasons.

If just one leg had felt bad I would have been limping. As it was…. Well, can you limp on both legs? If you can, I probably did.

I had good time anyway. I’ve been thinking about how I’ll train next year already–assuming I can. The pulled muscle still hurts a little. I plan to call the doctor about it again, but the fact that it’s been feeling consistently better each week since the run makes me less motivated than I ordinarily would be.

In the meantime I’m thinking that I’ll be exercising via bike, rollerblades and swimming and give running a bit of a rest.

I’m also tempted to take up rock climbing. We’ll see if I get around to it.

P.S. Did I mention that Kristen also ran? I should have.

P.P.S. Though many races offer free beer at the finish, I strongly recommend fruit. I have no idea how much watermelon and orange slices I ate, but at that moment they were wonderful.

Posted by Jim at May 29th, 2007

I recently got out my iBook (which I like) after not using it for a bit.

In between the last time I’ve used it and the present, virtually everything that I care about has moved from being usable on Mac OS 10.2.8 to being unavailable except on 10.3 or better.

Ah, you say to yourself, just go update your iBook.

Alas, it’s not that simple. To update, I’ve got to go buy OS X again. Even for a slightly older point release that’s still something like $129.

Which is just plain annoying.

Mind you, I like Apple’s aesthetic. It’s just that (coming out of Windows and FreeBSD/Linux) I’m not used to paying for point releases. It just seems wrong somehow.

You might argue, of course, that Windows 98 was simply a point release for 95 and that XP was little more than a point release for 2000, but, for the moment, I’m going to pretend not to believe you.

Posted by Jim at May 25th, 2007

Apparently an 11 year old killed a 1051 pound boar recently.

Am I the only one who instantly thinks of Princess Mononoke when I see the photo? I’m thinking specifically of this.

Posted by Jim at May 8th, 2007

My Grandma (Hilda) Zoetewey died today (Tuesday, May 8, 2007).

It wasn’t unexpected to my parents. Apparently she’d been put on a new medication and had been having trouble adjusting to it. On the other hand, she was almost as old as my grandfather who died last year. She made it to her late nineties.

It’s harder for me to summarize her life than his because (I realized just now) I know less about it. I know that her parents immigrated from the Netherlands and moved to New Jersey. I know that they then moved to Denver because the family thought it would be better for her mother’s health. Ultimately though, it wasn’t good enough because her mother moved to Arizona (or was it New Mexico?), divorcing her father because he didn’t want to move. I seem to remember (but I’m not sure if this is true) that her mother paid for the divorce (at least in part) with money that the children had earned working.

I remember being told that she worked for some wealthy people as a servant while a teenager. When she stopped working for them, they told her to pick something of theirs to take home with her. She picked a lamp. I remember seeing that lamp in their house when I was a child and in the assisted living center that they later moved to.

I remember her playing pattycake with my younger brother when he was a baby. I remember the green beans (and other vegetables) growing in the garden behind their house as well as the flowers growing along the side that faced the driveway.

I remember that she would set the table the night before for the next morning’s breakfast and would be up and helping us get ready no matter how early we had to leave in the morning.

She volunteered for years at a local hospital. When she ended up having open heart surgery there, I’m told that they didn’t charge her. I’m not sure anymore whether that’s true or not, but I think I heard that at one point.

Between my grandfather and herself, they raised four children, one of whom died of cancer in high school. I remember seeing a photograph of him next to their bed.

One other thing that I remember about her is that she worried a lot. When Kristen and I got married, we had to drive from Grand Rapids (where the wedding had been held) to Holland (for the reception). They had come from Colorado for the wedding. One of the first things that she asked me when I talked to her at the reception was whether I had been speeding on the way over.

That anecdote is more funny if you knew her (though admittedly, it’s not that funny…). I’m confident that other people have much better Grandma Zoetewey Worrying-A-Lot-About-Minor-Things stories.

Another tendency of hers that I remember is that she would pass the food around the table until it was gone, constantly encouraging you have a little more with the aim of leaving nothing on the table. I imagine that this isn’t uncommon among people who survived the Great Depression. Still, it was one of her more noticeable characteristics.

I remember one time when all of us (us meaning their children and grandchildren) were gathered for some meal. Grandma was asking someone if he or she wanted more ice cream.

Someone else said, “Mom, don’t force it on him.”

Grandma said, “I’ve never forced food on anyone in my life.”

The whole room broke out into laughter and I think she may have laughed too–after a moment.

We still don’t know when the funeral is and bearing in mind that it’s in Denver, I probably can’t go. I wish I could (though to be honest, I’m still thinking about it).

All in all though, I’d rather talk to her than go to her funeral. I was thinking a few days ago that I ought to call her, but somehow I didn’t. I know that my Dad called her weekly or near to it. That’s a good thing.

I’ll miss the cards she sent and the letters she would write on them (growing slowly less legible as her vision got worse). I wish my own kids could have seen her more.