Shit is Getting Classy

This is Wally. He is famous. He is awesome.

I have always wanted to do a live blog, and today we will try to take the plunge. Follow along from 1:10 to 2:25, as I write from the back row in Wally Broecker's "Carbon Cycle" class. He is super famous and an incredible teacher, but that is no match for my complete lack of dignity. The lecture will be on Iron Fertilization and Climate Change. GLOBAL WARMING!? What is this, A MYTHOLOGY CLASS!!?

1:02 PM-Computer is connected, and it's time to live blog some science. WOOOOOOOO! Wally just told me that only 50% of weather reporters believe in global warming. POLAR BEARS REJOICE, HUNDREDS DEAD.....NEWS AT 11.

1:05 PM-Wally had a delightful weekend! He spent 2 hours grading our midterms! The class immediately goes silent as if he announced that half of us will not survive this class. Granted, in the sense of GPA, that would be partially correct.

1:10 PM-Today's class will now be on nutrient cycling. What is a Happy Days fan's favorite element? FONZ-PHOR-US! (/slits wrists)

1:14 PM-The class is a mix of grad students and undergrads. They are just like us, but with 75% more tweed jackets! In other news, Florida State University fired their entire environmental science department, Wally says. They need to stop sampling ice cores, and start learning to throw a football. Though looking at most scientists, perhaps they should try kicking/waterboy first.

1:19 PM-The residence time for ocean elements is calculated by Volume/Flux from rivers, and is very important for CO2 absorption in the ocean. The residence time for a history major in his parents' basement, meanwhile, is too large to calculate.

1:23 PM-"Black Smokers" are vents at spreading centers in the ocean which many think are the location of the substrate for life formation. I was going to say that Dick Cheney's soul is also a "Black Smoker", but everyone knows that--while the color is right--the inner recesses of his being are cold and dead.

1:30 PM-I just got up to close the window because of noise from outside trash vans. The lab where we have class is directly next to a trash center. Putting something that should be useful next to a noisy, disgusting wasteland is the same logic that put Yale in New Haven.

1:36 PM-As an aside, my thesis is on making surfaces more white to mitigate urban warming (white reflects more radiation). Now the Republicans have environmental justification for the color of every single person in their party!

1:45 PM-Increased subduction of continents leads to dissolution of Calcium carbonate (limestone), which releases CO2 into the atmosphere. This partially explains the periods of extreme warming in Earth's history. My favorite environmental event:

660 million years ago, high rates of weathering and stalled ocean circulation led to encroaching ice sheets, which enveloped the entire globe--this is called Snowball Earth. After millions of years of mile-thick ice sheets near the equator, volcanism released CO2 which raised the temperature and rescued the planet from a Mars-like ice coffin. The surviving organisms were so few that they had an extreme evolutionary advantage, and life developed at unprecedented rates. This is called the Cambrian Explosion, where all life on Earth has its origin.

As an aside, after this period, trees evolved and colonized land. Without the regulation of herbivores (animals did not eat plants until later), so much carbon was sequestered in terrestrial biomass (this is where most of our coal comes from) that the Earth went into another minor Snowball Earth. Earth history goes through more fluctuations than Oprah's bathroom scale.

1:50 PM-Famous author Arthur C. Clarke invited Wally into his house in Sri Lanka. Clarke said he lived there for tax purposes, but Wally lets us know that the truth is that the authorities were minimal and the young boys were plentiful. Sad pandas who used to be fans of 2001: A Space Odyssey fill the classroom.

1:58 PM-Wally thinks that the long-term cooling in the last 50 million years can be attributed to the evolution of more established plant roots after the asteroid collision that killed the dinosaurs. In another 50 million years, Snowball Earth could be a possibility. You see, guys! Burning fossil fuels is a service to future generations! By the time Jesus comes back, the North Pole will be like a pleasant sauna ALL THE TIME.

2:10 PM-Wally told a story about a genius post-doc who developed a method using Boron isotopes to measure ice sheets. After earning his doctorate, the genius (who happens to be Indian) could not get a job despite a glowing letter. Wally says it is evidence of extreme discrimination against Indians in academia. So the genius went into business instead, and is now a millionaire many times over. In other words, SUCK IT RACISTS.

2:17 PM-He just mentioned a question we got wrong on the midterm, and said "DUMMIES!" Now, it needs to be explained that Wally is one of the nicest people on the planet. He is also an authority on the top end of the intelligence spectrum. This is like being called smart by Sarah Palin.

2:25 PM-That's all, folks. Another amazing class by Wally, and I did well on the midterm. PUT THIS SHIT ON THE FRIDGE, MOM. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

People, Places, and Things

Leaving Columbia on Thursday, I hopped on the M60 bus to La Guardia, and saw my life in NYC flash before my eyes. People, places, and things in New York are impersonal. Everything moves fast. Except the buses, which are to the traffic flow what Danica Patrick is to the field at an Indy Car race. In other words, they make a lot of noise, cause a crash or two, then end up finishing last. Anyway, two things were particularly striking on that short trip.

First, the obvious one: the environment. Driving up through Harlem, the only way the surrounding area could be deemed livable is if Mr. McDonald was a venture capitalist who used the drive-thru to give away hundred dollar bills and full-body massages.

Second, the community (or lack thereof). A woman sat next to me. She was a younger African-American lady, and I tried to make conversation. After grunting a response that could have easily been mistaken for a growl, she put her head down and put on her Ipod----my eager smile was nothing but an annoyance. And while my facial contortions that are meant to show happiness could be construed as aggressive teeth-baring by an ugly chihuahua that thinks it recognizes the expression from its own species, I think she knew I had nothing but the purest of intentions. She just didn't give a shit.

So I flew down to Duke with New York City in my soul. What I learned this weekend in Durham is that any cynicality about humans and nature that I constantly fear may permeate my personality from life in NYC can be exorcised with a southern smile and a blooming apple tree. I loved Duke Law----but not only did I love the academic opportunities of the school, I loved the people, places, and things that make up the law school community.

It was beautiful----I will post pictures later this weekend of the school and the forests that could motivate an annoyingly catchy James Blunt song. But most importantly, people cared. Waiting for a new friend outside Cameron Indoor Stadium, I sat next to another woman. She was a younger African-American lady, and I tried to make conversation. After smiling broadly and touching my arm, she happily spoke in a soft drawl that could thaw the coldest of personalities. She gave a shit.

Marching Forward---Law School Edition

Oh, March. You come in like an angry lion, and go out like a content lamb. And for my readers in especially lonely parts of New Zealand, that was not a sexual reference to shepherd-sheep forbidden love (though it IS mating season). No, the metaphor is a reference to my life---for me, March blew in with a chaotic mix of indecisiveness and responsibility, which has been replaced by increasing clarity and understanding. Within the next two weeks, I will make a decision that will (in many ways) determine the path of my life. Yes, I will finally decide whether to pursue my dreams and become a Vegas showgirl.

Actually, that was the plot of the acclaimed 1998 cinematic masterpiece Showgirls. In actuality, it is time to make a decision on law school. Over the past several months, countless people have attempted to convince me to not attend. While I understand their hate of lawyers, this hatred originates from a discouragingly large subset of the JD population whose levels of moral bankruptcy couldn't be resolved by the Supreme Court (when reached for comment, Clarence Thomas snorted and tried to pinch my ass). That being said, I AM NOT going to law school to make money. In fact, I can nearly guarantee that fighting for the public good through environmental activism will not be particularly lucrative. The best I can probably hope for is to be elected to public office and hire a particularly ambitious/amorous intern. HOPEFULLY SHE LIKES CIGARS!*

*sorry

To be serious, self-righteous proselytizing across partisan battle lines has entrenched the green movement in a state of politicized sublimity. Environmental activism must thus be enacted from the top with an eye towards reality, with the direct implications of law reform integrated into the real-world power structure. I hope to make a difference, to save the world, and an understanding of the law is essential to help others on a global scale. /end seriousness, ONWARD WITH THE DICK JOKES!

Lofty ambitions require an outstanding education, but money and location are also important. Here is DA BREAKDOWN:

NYU: Here is a fun fact: an NYU Law education would require 220,000 dollars of loans over 3 years. Its amazing environmental program is complimented by a complete lack of environment in Manhattan. Living without green for another 3 years would probably do to me what Yoko Ono did to the Beatles, or what prescription pills have done to Rush Limbaugh's sanity.

UCLA: Ranked number 15 in the country, their slightly lower ranking is offset by a new climate change center and a financial offer that makes me blush like an Asian at a wine tasting.

Duke: An amazing school with an environmental program that is one-of-a-kind. I am visiting this weekend, and this could be a huge step in the decision process. Duke has a super-small class, a huge forest on campus, and relatively temperate climate. Though Richard Nixon and Tucker Max are graduates, so by unfair generalization I assume that their combined talents indicate that all pretty girls are given roofies and videotaped while showering.

Cornell: Ithaca is gorges!

Long story short, I do not want to hold scholarships from other candidates, so am implementing a personal deadline of April 15 for the final decision. Thanks for all your support, and I hope you keep following as I embark on the journey to change the world. THERE MAY POSSIBLY BE CAKE!

March Multisport Madness---Prospect Park Spring Duathlon Race Report

Summary:
Simply put, I was beat by three outstanding athletes. Later on, I will try to blame the off-the-podium finish on a wrong turn on the run, along with a broken aerobar on the bike, but the truth is that those three handsome devils had better legs. I mean 'better legs' both in the athletic sense, and in the Tina Turner sense---those were three good-looking dudes. First place was from the New Zealand national team, a country whose first requirement for residency seems to be abnormally high cheekbones. Second was Greg Close, a great guy who hopes to go sub-9 at IM Brazil, and would never be classified as a "sub-9" himself. Third was Ben Leese, an athlete with a British accent. Imagine Hugh Grant.....now add rugged athleticism.....and subtract however many cross-dressing prostitutes you associate with Mr. Grant. That was Ben. Needless to say, I hated to see them pull away on the bike, but I loved to watch them leave.


Pre-Race:
The week before the season-opening duathlon was spent jet-setting around the country visiting law schools. I will be making a final decision in the next two weeks, so it was a hectic time (A post will come later this week with the options, but I was a little tired for the trip up to New York on Friday). That being said, my legs felt like Campbell's Soup tastes, and I was ready to go when I woke up. All of that Mmmm, mmmm, goodiness was confirmed during the warm-up with an easy 2 miles plus 2 hard strides that lubricated the pistons and turned on the engine (coincidentally, those metaphors are also used as euphemisms in the Nascar-themed erotic fansite, "Kasey's Kahne"). A huge Columbia University Tri Club contingent was there, and I toed the line supported by a baby blue army of dream crushers behind me. Some yoga breaths, some stretching, the countdown, AND THEY'RE OFF!


First Run:
Upon seeing the competition at the start, I decided to take the first run out hard and try to mix things up. Pacing with Ben up the first climb, we hit the mile under 5 and had a nice gap on the Kiwi and Greg. The theme-song of the run was "Who Let the Dogs Out", as oblivious owners were letting their pooches frolic across the course. Based on how excited we seemed to make the dogs, I can only assume that they saw our freshly shaved winter-pale legs and were reminded of the hindquarters of an especially amorous poodle. The early pace began to put me in heat (oysters do not make the best pre-race meal), and the second climb at 2 miles was especially hard. Chugging along beside Ben, we attacked the hill like the Republicans confront civil rights---very slowly with seemingly no intention of forward movement. Through the glaze of pain, I saw Ben suddenly throw his arms up. Why is he signaling that a field goal is good? I thought as I continued to run. A second later, the lone hamster performing a particularly bad rendition of the Vagina Monologues that is my mental processing abilities during a race had an epiphany. We were going the wrong way! Later, we regrouped but not before it was the Kiwi, Ben, and I back together churning towards T1. I made a move 100 meters out so I could prove my manliness by having the fastest first run split. MY TESTOSTERONE COULD FILL A GRAIN SILO!


Bike:
The Prospect Park bike course is four loops of a gently undulating course in Brooklyn. I felt okay, though the Kiwi rapidly pulled away from Ben and I. Later that lap, Greg Close came flying by. And by flying, I mean literal flying. After they retired the Conchord jet, they put it on his bike. Having only ridden outside once since December, the small variations that are difficult to simulate on the trainer led to some unique soreness. The hard first run combined with the emotional anguish of the wrong turn and the lack of outdoor rides to create minor micro-cramps. In other words, my calf muscle was vibrating like a broken washing machine. I was able to catch Ben when suddenly the aerobar broke. Mercury has been slow getting me the new bike, and the wear on the Cervelo is beginning to show. It is the Britney Spears of the cycling world----yeah, I guess it's still okay, but it's tough to forget the good old days when the moving parts weren't worn like your favorite pair of jeans. Pulled into T2 in fourth, confident I could make a move on the podium.


Second Run:
My dreams were quickly crushed. The suffering clouded my memory as stomach pain and leg weakness combined for a very slow pace. That being said, my recollection of the second run is as accurate as a history book from Texas. At some point, I may have passed out from the pain and started dreaming, because around mile 2 there I think I saw the "Loch Ness Monster" and a "Compassionate Conservative". Anyway, the gap to fifth was several minutes, and I bargained with myself to just finish in fourth. To be serious, it is always frustrating when the post-mortem indicates that seconds were left on the course. I may not have caught third, but settling during a big event is selling yourself short. That being said, I am always happy to finish, and hearing the cheers of friends in the chute was exhilarating. Crossing the finish line in 1:12:25 for the day, I was thrilled to have the first race of the season under my belt. This year is going to be a lot of fun.


Thanks to Mom, Dad, and the CU Tri Team! You are all beautiful people that I owe so much for your support. And dad, awesome race! Though you are kind of a copy-cat. I mean, you seem to be aging in reverse, and Benjamin Button did that shit first.

Race Update!!!!

Race report to come later, but first a quick update. Just missed the podium in fourth, after a wrong turn on the first run led to a loss of a 30 second lead by me and second place at the time. I navigate like George Bush speaks. Totally my fault though, and it was not the reason I finished where I did---today, the New Zealand national team member that showed and Greg Close (human locomotive) were stronger. All in all, it was a super fun race with some great stories.

There is no shame in losing to those world-class guys, but I will look up the correct Samurai method to commit suicide just in case. Okay, Wikipedia search "Samurai ritualistic disembowelment"......hara kari.....hahahahaha, it sounds like the old Cubs announcer. HOLY COW, Wikipedia searching puns have given me a reason to live. Luckily, the shame I brought my family was weathered by an amazing race by my dad, who won the 55 and up age class!


To be serious, it was really an awesome experience, and it is great to put the first race in the bag against such a quality field. Hope this beautiful day on the east coast is treating you perfectly!

Bone Dreamcrusher's Prospect Park Spring Duathlon Pre-Race Report

Hey guys! As you know, Bone Dreamcrusher is the resident overcompensating asshole in these here parts, and also the race-day alter ego of your humble author. Because he cannot type race reports (those days have five times the page views, and I don't want strangers thinking I am a horrible person that endorses douche-baggery), I sometimes let him loose the morning before the big day to blow off some steam. As always, the following points are the ramblings of a cocky piece of crap:

1. On a pleasant spring day, Prospect Park doubles as a dog haven, where owners let their German Shepherds off the leash (not their black labs though---even dog gentrification lowers property values). As a result, the run doubles as a hurdles competition (or a kicking competition if the dog is a Chihuahua). Where others would see an annoyance, the Bone sees a development opportunity. Unsupervised pooches? This is the perfect place for my new chain of super stores---Michael Vick's Asian Kitchen. MVAC, where the General Tsao's chicken will be your stomach's best friend™.


2. The bike involves more swerving than a borrowed El Camaro leaving Senior Prom. The course is only 14 miles, but packed with tourists and unsuspecting pets (also the ingredients in the Jeffrey Dahmer Chicken Chow Mein at MVAC). It is a relatively flat course with one gentle hill and some crosswinds. As a result, Prospect Park is a display of power over grace with very little spectator value----kind of like a bench press competition, or the WNBA. Last November, David had a flat tire and rode that shit to transition. I'm not saying that is the most bad-ass thing that has ever occurred, but he makes Captain Sully look like an asshole. A Flock of Seagulls? Unless that is the eighties band getting filleted by the propeller, Mr. Roche would have flown that plane to LAX.


3. One thing about Dave is that he's kind of a coward. I mean, he can't really get angry, and his idea of a racy joke is to make fun of Glenn Beck's political views. His political views? That is SO RISQUE. How about his viewers!? Glenn Beck: The only cable news show for reincarnated slaveowners for whom the Washington Monument doubles as an IQ test grade report.


Anyway, Bone Dreamcrusher is racing tomorrow, so no need to worry about the blog's author getting in the way of a five minute victory margin. As a side note, "Beauty And Change"? Great blog name Dave, were you a figure skating fashion designer growing up?

Okay, that's it for Bone. To be 100% serious, I am very excited about racing tomorrow, and I look forward to meeting those of you that have contacted me and will be at the race. It really is a terrific venue, and the weather will be even better! I always view races as celebrations rather than tests (hence the stupid fun of Bone Dreamcrusher), and tomorrow is a perfect day for a party. Hope you have a terrific Friday!

Dreamy Senators and the Return of Bone Dreamcrusher

For me, wearing a suit is like Barney Frank wearing a "The Man, The Myth, The Lengend (arrow pointed down)" t-shirt. Both just seem like we're forcing something we're not. That being said, occasionally a situation arises where I need to scrounge together my wardrobe of champions. The tie and boots are from a thrift shop in Boulder. The jacket and pants are from a Wal-Mart Supercenter. The shirt and socks are from a homeless person's shopping cart (they have to sleep sometime, then.....we pounce). Yesterday was one of those days.


An event in the Russell Senate Building adjacent to the Capitol necessitated formality. My awesome parents drove me to the National Mall, where we did the tourist thing for a bit before we parted ways. Among other things, we took pictures in front of the Fox News building, which is kind of like taking pictures in front of the Eye of Sauron (Lord of the Rings references get all the hot chicks), or Dick Cheney's home (though all three are pretty much the same in terms of evil). Continuing with the Tolkien theme, my suit acted as 'the ring', gaining me entrance into the well guarded halls of Congress. Clearly, the stylish ensemble made my nervous insecurity invisible to the guards.


Up to the Caucus Room I went, passing both Lindsey Graham and Scott Brown on my way to the event. Surprisingly, Senate Republicans do not burn when exposed to sunlight. Just in case, I threw garlic at Scott Brown by going in for a kiss after a lunch of garlic-tofu (HE IS SO DREAMY!). Many famous events in American history have occurred in the Caucus Room, and it was awe-inspiring to be invited to this place of institutional reverence. Granted, the Watergate scandals were staged there, so I just assumed the drinks were laced with industrial-grade roofies by deceiving association.


All in all, it was a terrific night where I was able to speak candidly to Congressmen in an informal setting. It is exhilarating to speak to people in the upper reaches of power who have maintained a healthy perspective on the world. They were real people; They knew right from wrong; They didn't object to being pinched for failing to show St. Patrick respect (seriously Senator Kaufman, wear a green tie next time). Hearing their frustration at the proceedings in Congress was actually heartening. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and that is in the power of the vote. As Americans, we have unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. These great people fight to preserve those rights doing what they think is best. Even though I did not agree with some of them, it is inspiring to know that an altruistic conscience is alive and well in Washington. I just hope that one day, I can do my part in making the world a better place.

Training:
Tuesday: 3 miles easy
Wednesday: 8 miles easy

I am in full-blown taper mode for the first real race of the season on Saturday! In the last two races in Prospect Park, I was lucky enough to win by 4 minutes and I think this will be a fun test. Or to put it another way, BONE DREAMCRUSHER WILL BE TALKING TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND AT THE FINISH LINE WHILE YOU ARE STILL ON THE BIKE. Yes, the BDC is going to be racing this one. David Roche will be sitting the race out, and be replaced by that asshole. Hope everyone had a terrific St. Patrick's Day!

California Love

Finally back on the east coast after a weekend of running, biking, schmoozing, and BOOZING in LA. Ummmm, just kidding on the boozing part, though I did have two glasses of red wine at the UCLA reception, and may have said some things I regret. Hey, Interim Dean of the Law School, SHOW ME YOUR TITS! The worst part is that the dean is a man. What can I say? I guess I am a sucker for bow-ties. I should also stop drinking wine on an empty stomach.

Actually, the trip was great and I really appreciate everything UCLA did for me while I was out there. Monday was the official day getting chauffeured around the law school, and it left a really good taste in my mouth---it kind of combines the meaty taste of a portabello mushroom with the sweet taste of vegan frozen yogurt. I AM SO GOOD AT VEGAN FOOD ANALOGIES. In all seriousness, speaking with the dean and the top environmental professor was humbling. These men are extremely accomplished yet startlingly down-to-Earth. They knew all of my interests and gave nearly unlimited attention. With people like them in positions that are at the forefront of a changing world, the future really is filled with hope.

Anyway, time for the trip in pictures. Warning: shit is about to get realer than a Daniel-Day Lewis movie. THERE WILL BE SPANDEX!

After a cross-country flight with a seat partner who seemed to have chosen an unfortunate time to eat a 5-bean burrito, it was amazing to go to the beach for a run.


The next day was the run on the campus of UCLA. Afterward, I visited the law school. This is my tribute to Office Space, putting on the 'O' face. Coincidentally, my shirt also had lots of flair. I then played gangsta rap music while destroying one of their printers with a baseball bat to take the tribute to its logical conclusion.


Later, I explored the canyons that were ravaged by wildfires in the last year. The road was closed, and the desolation of this once-beautifully green reservoir was awe-inspiring. There is an uneasy beauty in the destructive power of nature.


Girl, good thing you weren't on the west coast, because your hotness would have started another wildfire.....luckily, my steak did not quite have enough sizzle.


On Monday, I took a ride on the Pacific Coast Highway before the law school events. The juxtaposition of beautiful natural land and an intellectually-stimulating city environment is definitely an important part of my life.


This is just three miles from campus. It is amazing to see the before picture in relation to the wildfires.

I still have no idea where the future will take me. A Duke visit is coming up in a couple weeks, and both have terrific environmental programs. Either way, it will be an exhilarating journey.

The First Step

When I landed yesterday, I felt a pang of something strange. I wasn't exactly sure what the feeling was; whether it was excitement to be in a new place, or dread of a potential new beginning. Probably the best way to describe the hollow feeling in my gut was nostalgia. Nostalgia for what? Maybe it was the East; maybe it was the comfort of familiarity. What I learned today though, was this: Change in and of itself is never a bad thing. Today taught me that I could live at UCLA, and that is an important first step.

The day began after 10.5 hours of deep sleep (jet lag got bitch-slapped). A quick drive to the campus of UCLA and a change into spandex/LunaRacers, and it was time to explore. For the next 90 minutes, I ran over every inch of campus. I ran through the empty tennis arena of Arthur Ashe, through the rafters of Lew Alcindor's Pauly Pavilion, and on the track of Meb Keflezighi. I jumped fences and ignored signs, doing repeats up hills and stopping to talk to strangers. What I take away from the run is not the beautiful campus, or the 75 degree weather, but the general niceness of those I passed. My litmus test for a new area is the response given to a smile, and every single time my zombie grin was returned with a radiant glow. People seemed happy. It was contagious.

At the track facility, they were holding the regional championships of the "Crossfit Games". For those that don't know what Crossfit is, imagine the aerobics class at your local gym, then add extreme grunting and man/grizzly bear hybrids, and you get the picture. A couple thousand people were in the stands and on the infield, and I figured it would be fun to do an all-out 400 in front of the crowd. After preparing myself, I slithered through the barrier onto the track, and pressed start on my watch. I took off, channeling the ghosts of Bruin Jackie Robinson at full gallop. About halfway around, the PA announcer heard the unusual cheering from the crowd. "May all unregistered athletes please leave the track." But I was in the zone. I pumped my legs violently as the crowd cheered, and the PA announcer responded in turn, "You should register next year." I raised my arm in acknowledgement as I finished the final turn and ran directly out of the stadium to applause. 52 seconds for the quarter, and an act of minor rebellion to add to my illicit training resume.

UCLA is an interesting place. I will visit Duke in 2 weeks, and the final choice between several schools will be difficult. Leaving the terminal yesterday, I was greeted with this wholly new world on the Pacific, and the scope of the change was daunting. Can I make the journey? I still do not know for sure. However, one thing is certain; every journey begins with that first step.

A New Training Low

Things I learned on the trip from BWI to Denver to LA:

1. I figured that I needed to use high altitude during the layover, so I found an empty escalator and did reps with my backpack on. Yes, I used a down escalator. No, security did not look kindly upon my training. I feel as if this is a new low for me. And that is coming from a guy that once did pool running in a hot tub. Now it is time to do speed reps on the reverse direction of the moving sidewalk in the terminal. BONE DREAMCRUSHER SCOFFS AT YOUR OVER-SIZED CONVEYOR BELTS.

2. Elbow rolls exist, and they do not treat armrests very kindly. The buttons to control the TV volume were under there, which made watching my seat neighbor adjust the audio on "Two and a Half Men" like like watching a particularly enthusiastic chef flip a ham and cheese omelet.

3. I now have a whole new and rejuvenated respect for people that are members of the mile-high club. I had difficulty using the bathroom for its designed purpose; having sexual relations in there is pretty much the same as playing Jenga in a motorcycle sidecar. Though there is the benefit of added motion, I guess. It is like one of those vibrating beds, only if they were equipped with a randomly activated "1906 San Fransisco" setting to account for turbulence.

4. People can really be amazing. The woman across the aisle was an Ivy League grad, and was flying to Denver to run a children's center. It almost took Dick Cheney interrogation techniques (also known as "the most dangerous game") to get those details out of her, and that was only because she modestly felt as if it were her duty to serve. Aside from that, she was a karate black belt and very serious chef. I made a joke about using nun'chucks to chop onions, and it took her a second to smile. I prefer to believe that isn't because the joke sucked, but because she cooks like Raphael from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fights.

5. Running on the beach in Malibu, followed by recovery sushi and wine is a pretty great experience. If there is anything running in the 70 degree sun taught me, it's that seasons can suck it.

Party in the USA?

Just a quick update this morning, as I'm off to board a flight to Los Angeles to visit UCLA Law! Going across time zones when traveling west is like extremely inefficient time travel. Instead of going back 5000 years and seeing God plant dinosaur bones to test our faith, upon landing it will be SLIGHTLY EARLIER THAN EXPECTED. Rather than asking "what if I was never born?", you can ask "what if I never ate that 3 bean burrito?" Anyway, The forecast at UCLA is 73 and 81 degrees on Sunday and Monday, which is somewhat unfair in terms of recruiting. I mean, that is kind of like giving all prospective students their own personal prostitutes.

To be serious for a couple sentences, the next few days in California will be very important in determining my future. I know this seems like an overstatement, but I think almost everything will be obvious after the first run. What is the culture like? What is the area like? Are there Sarah Palin stickers on cars? It almost feels unreal to be entering a new stage of life, where I am preparing to MAKE change, as opposed to merely talking about it. Over the next few days, I might find that UCLA Law will be the place where the journey begins.

P.S. I was trying to think of a song that name-dropped LA, and instead of thinking of 2Pac (California Love), I immediately thought of Miley Cyrus. "I hopped off a plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan, welcome to the fame and excess, am I gonna fit in?" Gosh, she hasn't spoken this directly to my soul since Hannah Montana saw that cute boy on the first day of school!

Family Matters and Cutting Board Announcement!

Yesterday, I was taking my last midterm exam, when I felt a vibration. Now, I have seen both Cloverfield AND Erotic Surprises VI, so I knew that either a hideous monster was on its way to destroy Manhattan, or things were about to get kinky in the testing room. Luckily for the other 100 people taking the Economics of Latin America exam, it was choice A-----a monster was on they way. The beast was worse than the most terrifying thing in my imagination (which is a Republican Twilight fan who force feeds me gluten).......the monster was.......MY BROTHER! The vibration was my phone announcing his arrival with his awesome girlfriend. If they go see Beauty and the Beast and sit in the crowd, other theater-goers will think it is audience-participation night.



Just kidding of course, Jesse and Feriel are absolutely wonderful human beings, and I love having them here for the first time! They have not visited me in NYC before, so we spent last night hanging out with some really great people and doing New York things. Notably, New York things usually include paying 7 dollars for drinks and getting groped on the Subway. We were fortunate, however, to catch the local bar at happy hour, and the Subway crazy people wearing pants under their trenchcoats.



Anyway, my room is not very well-stocked, and that reality hit home when Feriel was making crepes this morning. WE HAD NO CUTTING BOARD! While cutting directly on the counter-tops does provide some special flavor (similar to how dropping food provides floor-seasoning), it is not the best option for a terrific chef like her. Amazingly, I was offered an opportunity to review a cutting board for a website, which I think I will now take advantage of. The CSN stores series of websites offers everything from kids beds to high-quality maple cutting boards. I really appreciate the offer, and look forward to reviewing the product along with cooking some gluten-free dishes after Spring Break.



Training:
Wednesday: 7 miles easy
Thursday: 14 miles fartlek style

Training has been wonderful! I was energized by all the enthusiasm and support I received through emails, calls, and comments after the National Championship news, and that has been reflected in my runs. Also, it is just now getting warm enough to run shirtless, which makes every run feel more natural. CHEST HAIR BLOWING IN THE WIND. Today was supposed to be a 10 mile easy run, but the weather and general giddiness of Spring coincided to produce one of those experiences where you find yourself going hard without almost any perceived effort. Hope everything is amazing guys!

USAT Age Group National Champion!!!

Today while sitting on the steps on campus, I received a call from USAT that I won the 20-24 age group for 2009! She was asking for a headshot for the national magazine, which I just sent to her:



"Would you like some candy little girl???? See that van over there; there is Starburst under the back seat." Yes, this pedophile apparently uses semicolons. I smell a Starburst sponsorship!

Just kidding of course. I actually sent a more serious picture, where I look like an overeager pre-pubescent British orphan. IT CAPTURES MY SOUL:



"Thank you sir, may I have another. Of course, I mean another zipper. This one appears to be broken."

In all seriousness, this is an amazing honor. I had several bad races at both Nationals and Worlds, and the ranking system rewarded a couple of good races at the end of the season. In fact, the win at American Zofingen (click here for the race report) was one of the top 3 best performances by any racer, pro or amateur, according to the ranking system. BONE DREAMCRUSHER LOVES CONVOLUTED ALGORITHMS.

Thanks so much to everyone. I appreciate everything you do, whether it is reading/commenting on the blog, giving me a smile on campus, or being there every day (Mom and Dad, that is you!). If karma is real, each and every one of you will have a 2010 for the record books.

Sweet Tunes Study Break

So this is midterms week at Columbia University, which means that many of my fellow students are holed up in the library, doing what people do in the library. Having never visited, I can only assume most of their time in that depressing hellhole is spent looking for appropriately high ledges from which to swan-dive. In fact, I am convinced that no one actually works in the library, and that it is more of a cult of suffering/procrastination. It is like Jim Jones and the People's Temple, but without all of the sweet Kool-Aid (and a lot more ChatRoullete).

The last few days have also been beautiful, with blue skies and radiant brightness. By radiant brightness, I am of course referring to the sun reflecting off my winter white legs. When wearing shorts, if I turn my knee just right, the laser beam of reflected light is strong enough to be used to perform successful Lasik surgery on Ray Charles. And he's dead.....I need to get out more.

Anyway, I was also able to ride in Central Park yesterday, and have just been downright giddy in general the last few days. A trip to UCLA to visit the school awaits on Saturday, and my brother visits on Wednesday with his delightful girlfriend Feriel. Life is awesome, and to compliment that awesomeness, here is the current Spring play-list:

1. The Heavy, "Sixteen"



I love The Heavy, and this song is about as cool as it gets.

2. Cold War Kids, "Audience"



As a friend said when I posted this on Facebook, the Cold War Kids are the perfect beach music. Definitely a catchy and fun song.

3. Passion Pit, "Sleepyhead (Live)"



Kind of hipster dance-party, but it is nearly impossible to keep your head from bobbing when this is played.

Training:
Monday: 90 minute ride with 4 mile jog and yoga
Tuesday: 90 minute ride with sprints, transition 6 mile run

Blog Name Change!!!!!!

So I have decided that the name of the blog has to change. It does not represent the content of the page or my life whatsoever, and it is just starting to become an extreme annoyance. But what shall the new name be???? Unfortunately, it seems as if nearly every potential blog name is already taken, thus we will need to get creative.

For example, blog names that are already in the ether:

1. BlogHerIHardlyKnowHer.blogspot.com
Going for a joke in the domain name? CREEPY-JOKE FIVE!

2. PandaLife.blogspot.com
Also taken are all possible iterations of "Sad Panda".

3. DaveTheWave.blogspot.com
At school, Wave is my nickname among a group of friends. Better than Rouche the Douche, I suppose.

Anyway, the new domain name is more of a reflection of me, and the point of the blog. Life is beautiful. Every moment is amazing. But at the same time, everything changes. We change as people, the circumstances of our lives change, and the world itself changes. My goal in life is to be a part of positive change, to be a person that brings a little extra beauty into the lives of others. So without further ado, the new blog name is:

BeautyAndChange.blogspot.com

Please bookmark the new page. You guys mean so much to me, and your emails are some of the best moments of every day. I plan on writing until I am old and gray; that span of time could lead me to the Oval Office or a gas station, but either way I'd love for you to make the journey with me.

First Race of the Year!---Coogan's 5k Race Report

Summary:
The first race of the season is always a tough experience. No matter how intense the training, consistent the recovery, and lubricated the nipples, the first race introduces a world of hurt. Overall, I'm thrilled that I didn't have the crash and burn experience that I usually have at the season's start. Last year at the same race, my blow-up made the Hindenburg look like a pleasant adventure getaway by comparison. 365 days later, I was strong enough to clock a 15:58, good for 30th overall out of 6000 on the hilly course. I may not look back on the race as a crowning achievement, but it was also not my own personal Marie Antoinette-sponsored cake-eating contest in the sky. AND THAT IS SOMETHING WE CAN BUILD ON!



Pre-Race:
The first dilemma was the pre-race play-list. I could go Vampire Weekend, Columbia alums---but decided I was not worthy of such gangsta keyboard style. So instead I went with a friend's recommendation, the super-indie "Ted Leo and the Pharmacists". Why? Because the record companies gave us Lady Gaga. When I hear her songs at a party, the only "Bad Romance" I'm tempted to have is between my earsdrums and a particularly efficient Roto-rooter. Anyway, had the Peanut Butter Panda Buff/banana breakfast, freebased some caffiene, and was out the door for the 3 mile jog to the race site in an awesome blue singlet (property of a friend). I ended the warm-up with three all-out hill sprints (about 20 sec) to open up the suffering mechanism, and was ready to go. The front of the start line was filled with Africans, and I have seen enough of the Olympics to know a win was out of the picture. Granted, I have also seen enough Olympics to know that I could crush their dreams in curling. GLORIFIED SHUFFLEBOARD IS ALL THAT COUNTS!



RACE!:
The pack took off at a pace reserved for cheetahs on methamphetamine. At the beginning of these mass cluster-f**k races, I always imagine I am in Pamplona and am being chased by bulls. Though it is disheartening when there is what appears to be both a 10 year-old girl and a 250 pound diabetes patient ahead of you at the 200 meter mark. Someone must have distracted them with Snickers bars, because they quickly vanished and we were left with a strung-out lead pack. The first 800 meters are mostly flat before a 150 ft hill to the 3/4 mile mark. I decided to push the ups, and let gravity do the work on the downs, and hit the mile in 4:58.

The next half-mile was slightly down, so I opened up my stride. One thing I recommend to runners is to modify stride dynamics on steeper downs; worry less about stride rate than stride length while leaning forward over your toes. It should almost feel like a kangaroo bounding down a hill. At this point, I was passing some of the better Spanish-speaking runners from the Central Park Track Club and heard spectators yelling "Venga!" Luckily, I am taking Spanish so I know that translates to "Don't let white-boy that looks like zombie pass you!" It really is a beautiful language! Anyway, did a loop around Fort Tryon Park, and then went up the backside of the 250 ft hill to the 2 mile mark. Going up a climb at that point is pretty much like storming the beaches at Normandy. Yeah, you've come a long way, and this is a pretty big deal, but you ain't in Berlin yet. In this metaphor, the Allied Forces are Columbia Road Runners, and I am Penn Isgro, a handsome Texan with a rough exterior. Penn hit the 2-mile mark in 10:10, passing some runners whose very audible breathing/moaning seemed to be an audition for a very X-rated movie.....we lost some good men out there.

Moving on, the hill kept going, and going. I pushed to the top, knowing the last half-mile was down to the finish. At this point, the lactic acid began to seize my legs. A monkey hopped on my back, then a gorilla, and finally the king of all annoyingly large lesser primates, Rush Limbaugh. A group of 8 passed, and I could not hold on as Rush fought everything I tried to do to the bitter end despite all effort to the contrary (also the Republican approach to social change). Staying as comfortable as possible, I hit the tape at 5:09 per mile pace, a good season-starting effort.



Post-Race:
Afterward, I jogged back to campus with two guys from the Columbia Roadrunners, both of whom are Freshman science majors. I was invigorated by their passion, and I think it's interesting that so many great minds gravitate to the sport. Perhaps it is impossible to let go of curiosity and wonder when you push yourself to your own personal limits. That's why I blog! I mean, how else can I test the applicability of a Nazi metaphor on running up hills. IT'S CALLED TALENT!

Thanks everybody for reading, I really appreciate your support. I think today bodes well for Nationals in April. If nothing else, it will be a fun journey.

The Fight

Life has been a whirlwind. But over-stimulation is a good thing as long as it does not involve cocaine or techno music. So while trying my best to avoid feeling like John Belushi at an Amsterdam rave, I traveled to NYU Law yesterday for the Admitted Students Weekend.

After a 6:00 AM wake-up call, I was able to rise from bed to the delightful chirping birds of Manhattan. Haha, just kidding. By that I mean garbage trucks and jackhammers. After a quick run and meal, I was off to the Village for some lawyering. Notably, the rush-hour One Train is the worst place on Earth. Imagine the happiest moment in your entire life, then multiply that by negative infinity, and that is the glorified cattle car of the 8:30 trip on the 1 line. Dante Alighieri should write the inscription above the door. Ye who enter here should abandon all hope, along with all dignity or unconcealed valuables.

While crunched into the trash compactor that was the subway car, I had nothing to do but stare at advertisements (and smell people who seem to bathe in melted Limburger cheese). For the fellas, there was an impotence hotline. In my head, it was just a number for a phone sex operator with self-confidence. For the ladies, there was an ad for uterine fibroid removal. Notably, they advertised NO GENERAL ANESTHESIA! Really? No one wants to be conscious while their lady parts are operated on. Finally, there was an ad for everyone: "Columbia University School of Continuing Education". I am happy to see that my degree is the equivalent to phone sex and doctors that cannot afford anesthesiologists.

Anyway, the NYU event was actually amazing in every way. One thing that I am realizing will inform my law school decision is the quality of student that attends the school. Simply put, the other admitted students, along with current 1L's and 2L's, were absolutely brilliant. It was energizing to feed off their enthusiasm. One girl in particular also had a climate-change/environmental law focus, and by simply talking to her, I learned what the future might hold and was filled with hope. Between her and the wonderful professors, I am so fucking excited for the future, because there are people out there who are that committed to the unceasing fight of good.

Later in the day, I was fortunate enough to have a half-hour one-on-one meeting with the Dean, a world-changer who wrote the book on Environmental Law. Ricky Revesz (the first Ricky in history that does not break the legs of gamblers who pick the wrong horse) was a great person, and his sincere honesty was amazing. One thing I will always remember though, is Professor Bryan Stevenson, a death-penalty/race lawyer. In his outstanding presentation, he told an anecdote about being in our shoes 25 years ago, and telling a mentor his ambitions. This is what she said to him:

"That will make you tired......tired.......tired. So, to change the world, you will have to fight......fight.......fight."

Those words resonated through the chills everyone in the room felt from his passion. Whatever comes next, it is going to be fucking hard. There will be nights of hopelessness, and days of despair. But we must always look forward. If we know what is right, we must always fight.

Training:
Friday: 5 miles super easy
Saturday: 40 minutes trainer with 6 mile transition + strides (Race tune)

P.S. I will make the final school decision by mid-April!
P.P.S. Congrats to the dude of the day, my close friend who was accepted by a top med school for next year. Wherever he ends up, they are lucky to have him.

Michael Cera Thinks This Story is Awkward

Life is hard when you are awkwardly talented. Just today, for example, I was walking to class with a really cool person. We are laughing and playing around; it was the type of conversation that makes a 10 minute trip feel like it is instantaneous teleportation. "Beam me up Scotty!"....is what I would have said if the aforementioned "really cool person" wasn't actually a "pretty girl" (Star Trek references apparently do not make good sexy talk, especially if you mention that you will "boldly go where no man has gone before").

So we are ambling up some stairs on campus and I see a close friend about 10 yards away. "Awesome!" I think, "This will prove I have friends that aren't imaginary and cats!" As I raise my hand to waive, the jerk on the receiving end turns his gaze in the opposite direction at the worst possible moment. Now, I am in a pickle. Do I:

A. Laugh it off.
B. Play cool like I'm brushing my hair.
C. Give somebody a high-five.
D. Hold my hand in the air thinking about what just happened, while losing track of the number of steps left, and setting myself up for disaster.

Regular readers of the blog will know that the correct answer is D (Irregular readers of the blog should bookmark the website and read more often, or eat more fiber, depending on their personal definition of the adjective). Thinking there is another step when there actually isn't is the embodiment of adding insult to injury. My knee may be hyper-extended, and I don't know what to believe anymore. The knee may heal, but the existential crisis will haunt me at escalators FOREVER.

Moving on, this week has been great! Went to Trivia Night at a local bar on Tuesday, and enjoyed several hard ciders, because I like to see looks of disgust on the faces of bartenders. And last night there was a University of Texas Law reception in the city! Austin seems wonderful, and if the money is right I could totally see myself there. Granted, the reasoning "if the money is right, I could see myself there" also has led wide-eyed young people to stripper poles at the Hustler Club, and to firms on Wall Street. Actually though, those two places are pretty much the same, because both involve people selling themselves to make rich guys in suits a little bit happier.

Training:
Saturday: 100 minutes trainer (3x10 minutes hard with 5 minute high spin rest, 5x2 minutes harder, 5x30 sec hardest) with 8 mile transition run
Sunday: 90 minutes trainer (45 min TT near threshold) with 8 mile transition run
Monday: Yoga
Tuesday: AM-11 mile run with 8x3min hill reps
PM-6 mile easy run
Wednesday: 60 minutes trainer (4x5 minutes hard) with 6 mile transition run
Thursday: 6 miles easy

Training has been great! Race season begins on March 20th with the Prospect Park Spring Duathlon, and my first minor test is at Coogan's 5k this weekend. My training is currently molting in its cocoon, ready to emerge to the world. But what will it be!?! A beautiful butterfly perhaps? Or possibly a franken-moth that combines Steve Buscemi's looks with Kim Jong Il's charm? That is the awesome thing about this part of the season; it is really tough to know for sure. Either way, it should be exciting, and I hope you follow the journey to Nationals in April!