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Thursday, August 17, 2006

Playing Hooky

Thursday, Aug. 17

I got to play hooky from work today, since a vendor invited me to a Yankee game. Unfortunately it was a complete blowout before the 7th inning, so it wasn't much of a game unless you are an Orioles fan. It was a beautiful day outside though and I immensely enjoyed sitting in the ballpark, drinking a couple of beers and talking a mix of baseball and business. It doesn't get much better than that in terms of making a living.

Unfortunately, the Yankees weren’t having a good day at the office. To the right is Derek Jeter taking a pitch for a strike. The lopsided score (12-2) inspired us to leave early. Perhaps I will get home early enough to make up the bike ride I should have done this morning. I was too tired to wake up and get out. Perhaps because I was struck by insomnia at 2am, which was only overcome by a midnight snack and watching pathetic videos on youtube.com. I couldn't believe the crap I saw on this site and the amount of time some people spend on video documenting their lives for the entire world to see. Maintaining a blog is one thing, but recording and posting your dirty laundry or exhibitionist tendencies is something else entirely. It is completely foolish in a world where future employers will "google" your name to see what sort of dirt they can dig up on you before making a hiring decision. It is something I will have to make sure my kids never do.

Speaking of my kids, I went out for a run last night with my daughter accompanying me on her bike. It is becoming more and more pleasurable as time goes on. She is really able to set a pace while running that presents a good challenge for me to keep up with. Not that I didn't want my son to join us, but I was afraid he couldn't push the pace as my daughter can. After the workout, I took my daughter to a local bakery and bought her a baby chocolate cake. When we walked back into the house my son howled that it was unfair that his sister got something and he didn't. He insisted that the next time I go out for a run that she doesn't get to go and that only he will get something. I guess that is one way I could've inspired my son to come ride with me the next time I go out for a ride.

Friday Aug. 18

Last night when I got home from work, my son insisted that we go out for a run/bike ride. I guess not getting a treat from the bakery the night before inspired him to pursue physical fitness. I told him he could get something only if he completed two loops of the park without complaints, just as his sister did. I am glad to say that he more than adequately arose to the occasion, even doing the workout with me faster than his sister did the day before.

It took a bit more encouragement from me to get him up the big hill. For inspiration I sang a song of how the hill was taunting him that he couldn’t make it up all the way. The then sang a contrary verse saying that how my son was going to kick the hill’s butt. He found this rather amusing and I continued to cheer him up the hills whenever they were encountered. He sometimes complained that his back or legs hurt and I let him know that this was good, because it meant that he was working hard and that he should feel some discomfit when doing so.

I hope that these run with my kids continue as I am finding my workouts much more enjoyable over training by myself each day.

This morning I thought I would get on my bike for a while and then head to the pool. I don’t know what it is, but I have sort of a mental block when it comes to getting on two wheels. I just have no desire to ride lately. I could make it to the pool (which I did today) or go for a run, it’s just that getting on my bike seems to be a major effort. Maybe it is lingering effects from my torturous ride at Lake Placid.

To make up for a lack of land based workout this morning, I am going to play tennis with my wife this evening. This should be an interesting experience. We are both terrible at it, plus I think I’ve lost the ability to move side to side after all of these years of running/riding in a straight line. Hopefully I won’t pull a muscle swinging the racket.


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