How's this for marathon motivation?

She looked at me with a look I can only describe as disdain, but with a professional attitude.

"How's the knee"

"They are a little sore."

She rolled her eyes at mem. "They? Great. Now its both of them. Have I mentioned you are stupid? What's with you guys?"

"I take it your husband is racing on a similar 4 week marathon plan? If I recall last year we both did pretty well with the little training we did."

"He better not be..." She started. "Yeah, because if he does race I'll have a pace bunny with the sign 'Idiots United meet here' out for both of you." And with that she slamed closed her file (as much as she could slam a paper file) and ushered me out the door.

Another marathon on 5 weeks of training? Only 4 runs at 20k? No problem. Why? All this "can't do attitide" around me has fired me up to proove them wrong.

Yeah, how's THAT for motivation? As most guys will confess to, I'll take what I can get.

I think I found my new Burning Platform

Billings Learned Hand, a U.S. judge and philosopher from the early 1900s, once talked about change occurring only when
things reach a point that "cries out loudly enough to force upon us a choice between the comforts of inertia and the
irksomeness of action."

Best. Quote. Ever.

Enough said.

Grandpa is a liar

Little LP, very seriously, addressed me today with the following: "Dad, did you know Grandpa lies to me?"

"Oh," I said, "what kind of lies does Grandpa tell you?". I was hoping it was about things like the birds and the bees, but I soon found out - while animial related - I didn't have much to worry about.

"He tells me things like giraffe's have short legs!"

He was so serious, it was too funny to not laught at him!

The Bird is Asleep....

A post from my notebook... a few months old....

"It's dead! It's dead" he cried, running down the stairs.

I looked up to see Jordan heading down the stairs, full tilt. "What?"

He arrived breathlessly, bursting to tell the news. "A bird. It flew into the window!" His hands animated his sounds as he yelled kabash! to punctuate his point. "And guess what, mom said YOU have to deal with it."

I groaned. "How come when it's something dead, I get to deal with it. But when it's something like, someone came to the door and dropped off chocolates, SHE gets to deal with it. Go ask here that."

A few hours later I got round to my task, but upon reaching the "dead bird zone" I found nothing. No alive bird. No dead bird. No bird at all. Not even a feather to suggest one had been here, and managed to break it's neck on the window yet fly away unscathed.

I wandered back downstairs and found the kids. "Hey guys, are you sure there was a bird upstairs? I looked but didn't find any."

Haley jumped up. "I know! I know!" she squealed. "It was on my deck sleeping, but I tucked it in for an afternoon nap." She took my by the hand and lead me up stairs to her room. Sure enough, I looked under her covers and placed gently on her princess pillow was a "sleeping" bird.
"He'll wake up soon, right dad?"

"hmmmm, yeah. I'll wake him up and set him to fly out the window while you go downstairs and ask mom if there is some chocolate around you two can go eat together."

Moral of the story: Sleeping birds may lie, unless you have children in the house. Otherwise they lie in their bed, waiting to be woken up.

There are times I wish I was a full time blogger....

... and today is one of them.

1) It's well above 30 degrees outside. Nothing better than to be sitting by the ocean contemplating and writing in my journal.

2)My left brain is full. I keep trying to Load "$", 8, 1, but can't find the right disk to do a mental load from.

3)I have almost finished my deck, and installed the hammock at home now. Talk about the ultimate blogging location - close to wifi and the beer fridge.

and the best reason:

4) When you hear, in passing, someone say "So what do you you think Porn Stars fantasize about when the go home to their partner? Do you think they bring their work home with them?"

I mean, with line like that, all I think is of the blogging fodder I could get out of it.

Hammock's r' Us

I spend my long weekend balancing the trifecta of being sick, snoozing in ferry line-ups, and entertaining at least to of: a dog, a 6 year old, and a 4 year old.

I did, however, bring something in my weekend arsenal which would balance these needs perfectly.

A Hammock. BUT not any hammock, a double hammock...... and with this double hammock spread between 2 trees in the shade, I spent the better part of the weekend trying to sleep off a cold that had been plaguing me for about 10 days now. I highly (and I mean highly) recommend the family size hammock from The Hang Out Place on Granville Island. As I dozed in and out, all I could think of was "This is what summer is all about."

The picture is from when I was at the Hang Out Store with LP-ette, testing out the Hammocks. It gives you a representation of what I was doing on Hornby, only I wouldn't let anyone in with me lest to spoil the tranquility. I will admit upon discovering the room I had to sprawl, I dutifully wiped out my Blackberry to update my Facebook Status: LP is testing the "Hang Out Place" queen size hammock, and is currently suspended between 2 trees... Man this thing has girth!

With a few naps out of the way I was strong enough to get out for a good paced ride up Mt. Geoffery, if you consider a "good pace" as riding behind Little J, age 6. He kept asking me to take me where I go riding, so we rode up to the green trails and did some gentle - yet undulating - out and backs. He had a great time, and upon the return back home I collapsed again in the hammock, and snoozed until the next requisite game of "hit something over the volleyball net".

Here are the statistics from my 3 day weekend:
4 naps
2 beach excursions
2 hours of riding
6 Tylenol for Cold
umpteen giggles from the kids...

Going to France so I can slow down....

I have been writing. Not in the narcissistic way, but in a self-preservation. Unfortunately it has mostly been in my mind. Occasionally on scraps of paper, and although my leather bound journal has never strayed far from my side, the only time it has been opened was to record a fine wine or single malt notation.

To say the work-life balance has been interrupted is an understatement. But several days travelling across France this past week solidified my commitment to Go Slow, and spend all of August incommunicado on a small island, far away from the reach of technology.

We were 2 evenings in Annecy, France, a beautiful town that is connected to one of the historical authors and thinkers of the French Revolution, as well as the upcoming individual time trial for the Tour de France. Having a visit 18 days later would have climaxed this visit to a point beyond blogging...

The trip was for work, which usually means a 30 hour travel day (via 3 airports, a train and a car), followed by several 12+ hour work days, followed by a 30 hour travel commute home. However, when travel is required I make it a point to try to get out and see parts of the world I would otherwise probably not have the chance to visit. On this trip, I found 1 place I would visit again, especially if on a holiday.

On arrival we went on an drive to see the surrounding region from the top of Col de la Forclaz. In reality we drove most of the way but did have to portage through a cow maze, before getting to the point where we could watch some Parapenter's soar across the lake. Re-read that last sentence... yes, we actually had to go through a maze of cows.


On our way up we passed a field, reminiscent of the Sound of Music...


Had my wife been with us, I am sure she would have jumped the fence and ran into the middle of the field, spinning her arms like only Julie Andrews could.


You can see the dots of the Parapenters, essentially going from one peak on the side of the lake, across the lake and beyond another peak. Even from that height, we were unable to see the landing spot they were heading for.



At the top we watched both new and experts take their turn at jumping off the summit edge, their Parapents being buoyed by the thermal drafts a mere 1 or 2 feet off the ground. A colleague told me the expert Parapenters can stay up for a few hours, going across the lake and eventually to a landing site.

Annecy, with several small canals (with emphasis on the word small) snaking throughout the old part of the city, has a plethora of outdoor cafes which allow you to take in the afternoon and evening sights. Revelers mixed with lovers, tourists mixed with locals. I tried to make the transition from tourist to revelers, but had a difficult time convincing my coworkers to do some team bonding over many drinks (at least many in the Canadian sense).





By far the favorite part of the city was the discovery of this: Rue Jean Jacques Rosseau, and his monument.

Reading some of my early posts, circa 2005, you may see some influence of Rosseau. In fact, his book is one of 2 or 3 that sit along side my journal to read when I am in the contemplative mood (with Thoreau being one of the others).

We capped our 2 days in Annecy with a quick photo visit to the Monastery Church, with it timed by our local host to be both closed, but devoid of tourists. .

On our way back, our trip would not have been complete without a quick 3 hour tour of Paris, with a visit to the Sacre Coeur, and the Arc de Triomphe.




All said, short trip and full of historical monuments, but Doug's Summer Solstice post has me Pining for the Fjords of Hornby.