♫And I would drive 1200 miles....♫
Aug. 20th, 2012 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogI'm well into the 800s now, on the far southeastern end of the trip. The final four await tonight and tomorrow. It's been.... wow. Just wow. This whole experience is total TL;DR, but you can follow along either in pictures through the albums I've set up-
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
[still to come: Day Four]
-Or, read along with a word-heavier and picture-lighter version for each day below:
This was my first trip with all-electronic directioning- I call it GPS, but it's really just the map function on the iPhone. Like McKayla, I am not impressed:P It kept telling me it would take over 3 hours to go 150-plus miles, almost all interstate, from an Oneonta-ish "current location" on I-88 to just south of Springfield. The resulting stressage was unneeded, since even with a lunch and fillup stop and a weird GPS detour from I-90 to I-91, I made it a mere 10 minutes "late" and got to meet Susan Jane Bigelow, author of the Extrahuman books I've loved (all) and edited (two, one as lead editor). She's as lovely and thoughtful ISL (in Starbucks life) as I'd expected.
From there, I had more time than I needed to get to my Friday night friends, so I headed back north to the NBA Hall of Fame in Springfield. A weird choice for me, since I sailed right past Cooperstown on the way (I've been there many times) and I haven't followed hoops since the Nets left Long Island in the 70s. Still, I found some fun stuff for an hour or so passin' through:
Pistol Pete Maravich's socks and one of Chuck Taylor's original Chucks, respectively....
Pioneer womens' hoop star and creator of the "no wire hangers" defense;)
And the main tribute to my dear departed Nets, complete with beachball and Julius Erving's fro. Plenty of other memories of Royals and Braves in the album.
Got to Jim and Jean's by nightfall, ate Thai, shared stories till late, met their younger daughter (who's looked at UR, among other colleges for a year from now), and crashed before beginning the second day of adventures.
Lots of people got confused by the itinerary on this one. The Boston Red Sox were on the road at al-Yanquziera Stadium, where they won handily, but Fenway belonged to two of the Sox's farm teams. After meeting Jim's older daughter and sharing some brunch and bookstore moments, we got to the Pahk just as the first game was ending between two rookie-league teams. The sort-of-hometown Lowell Spinners almost came all the way back from six runs down, but they ended it a run short and they cleared the field for the nightcap between top affiliates of the Sox from Pawtucket and your (or rather my) Buffalo Bisons, the top team of the Mets.
I went exploring.
About the location of our seats on the first-base side....
but the corporate shills who sit in the first row? Get a tv in front of them.... with hockey reruns on it?!?
Lots of Mets prospects (and more than one reject) on the other side of the infield.
Most of my other game pictures are on the tablet and will get in the album eventually; good game, well pitched on both sides. Buffalo shut out the Pawsox, with plenty of good defense, a touch of injury to the Pawtucket leadoff hitter, and a lightsaber duel between Darth Vader and Wally the Cheap Muppet Sox Mascot (He lost when the Dark Lord shouted, "I AM YOUR BUCKNER!")
After that, I headed back to Cambridge to meet up with Geoff and Kelly, who were watching (he) and singing in (she) a performance of Ravel music in Harvard's Memorial Hall. I'd been by it many times, including in getting-lost efforts that very day, but had never been inside. Photography was strictly prohibited during, but I got this after- about as Hogwarts Hall as you're going to find on these shores:
They are teriffic, fun, and hard-working folk- both worked all day before and after, but we chatted a bit and I then headed off to bed with my surrogate adoptee:
Hello, Scratch;)
That got me right to....
Saturday had brought a little bit of drizzle, but it was Sunday I was really hoping would stay dry for the 5K. Blessedly, it did. I knew nobody there, and not a soul recognized my previous race from the stinkin' t-shirt-
That, in turn, was taken by these two, for whom I returned the favor:
Matching T's- "Clever" on your right, "Mastermind" on his. Her first 5K, she told me. Being the youngish types, they kicked up dust for me to eat when the gun went off, but we would cross minds again before the end- several times.
Two recurring themes in the pack: drinking and tragic death. This dude presented both:
I loved the carrot-stick logo for this upcoming race, and when I asked him to hold still for a shot of it, he invited me to come back for it up in Worcester in October. I explained this was kinda a one-off for me, and he said it was cool, but he had to let me know it was organized by him, in honor of his wife who just died from metastatic breast cancer. So if you can go, or donate, please. Here. This.
For much of the race, I was letting another couple pace for me- they were wearing shirts from the Wurm Running Club complete with little sneakered invertebrate, in honor of Rick Wurm, also taken by the evil C. You could look them up, too.
Again, since I was largely just standing round alone and wearing out my phone battery, I got asked to take another group shot:
Beautiful dog. She beat me going away- as did most of the pack when things got going.
Still. I kept a good pace for me- close to a 12-minute mile- but held down the actual run-running for a bunch of reasons. The humidity was back up, the course was NOT flat as advertised (no Heartbreak Hill, to be sure, but certainly a Teenage Romantic Angst Elevation in the middle of the third mile), and, psychologically the hardest, I didn't know the course well enough to know when it ended. I completely missed the 2-mile marker, and by then, most of the pack, including the stroller-pushers and the dog had long gotten past me.
I did catch up with Clever and Mastermind, though. Sadly, her leg cramped on at least two occasions, and while they finished ahead of me, it was closer than I'd have expected. I saw them at the afterparty and gave her, especially, congratulations- and him, as well, for his support and (at times) literal hand-holding. This shit makes me mushy.
The race was chipped, but there were no interval timings before, or even at, the end- I checked at a random spot, saw I was just over half an hour, saw another Little Spat Incline and yet another twisty turn, wondered if I'd make it through the thing,....
and made that final turn and saw the gorram finish about 4 feet behind it.
Win.
They texted the time about 5 minutes after finding it on the final slowpoke page of the printout: just over 36 minutes, a full eight off my June debut and, several regulars have said, pretty damn good.
We got medals. Including the dog. We did beers. She didn't:
Best shirt of the day, which I didn't see until it was over:
After all that, right on cue, my phone battery died. I'd parked at Kelly and Geoff's, way back past the beginning, and was not doubling back. Fortunately, I remembered another friend's phone number, where I'd packed a small bag with a change of clothes, and for the first time this decade, I used a pay phone. We are at the S&S in Inman Square (sign in lot: Restaurant parking. All others will be towed. Thanks bro), and I caught up with two old high school friends and their longtime spouses. Three women, one man (plus me). The love on each side of the table was palpable and about equal. Kiss my brunch, NOM.
From there, into a late-Sunday traffic jam, eventually landing at my niece's between Hartford and New Haven and finding a totally unexpected place for lunch. I'll do the story and pictures from all of that later, as well as from the game tonight, but...
I'll leave you with one preview of that: three generations of my family, all doing well and having a great day.
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
[still to come: Day Four]
-Or, read along with a word-heavier and picture-lighter version for each day below:
This was my first trip with all-electronic directioning- I call it GPS, but it's really just the map function on the iPhone. Like McKayla, I am not impressed:P It kept telling me it would take over 3 hours to go 150-plus miles, almost all interstate, from an Oneonta-ish "current location" on I-88 to just south of Springfield. The resulting stressage was unneeded, since even with a lunch and fillup stop and a weird GPS detour from I-90 to I-91, I made it a mere 10 minutes "late" and got to meet Susan Jane Bigelow, author of the Extrahuman books I've loved (all) and edited (two, one as lead editor). She's as lovely and thoughtful ISL (in Starbucks life) as I'd expected.
From there, I had more time than I needed to get to my Friday night friends, so I headed back north to the NBA Hall of Fame in Springfield. A weird choice for me, since I sailed right past Cooperstown on the way (I've been there many times) and I haven't followed hoops since the Nets left Long Island in the 70s. Still, I found some fun stuff for an hour or so passin' through:
Pistol Pete Maravich's socks and one of Chuck Taylor's original Chucks, respectively....
Pioneer womens' hoop star and creator of the "no wire hangers" defense;)
And the main tribute to my dear departed Nets, complete with beachball and Julius Erving's fro. Plenty of other memories of Royals and Braves in the album.
Got to Jim and Jean's by nightfall, ate Thai, shared stories till late, met their younger daughter (who's looked at UR, among other colleges for a year from now), and crashed before beginning the second day of adventures.
Lots of people got confused by the itinerary on this one. The Boston Red Sox were on the road at al-Yanquziera Stadium, where they won handily, but Fenway belonged to two of the Sox's farm teams. After meeting Jim's older daughter and sharing some brunch and bookstore moments, we got to the Pahk just as the first game was ending between two rookie-league teams. The sort-of-hometown Lowell Spinners almost came all the way back from six runs down, but they ended it a run short and they cleared the field for the nightcap between top affiliates of the Sox from Pawtucket and your (or rather my) Buffalo Bisons, the top team of the Mets.
I went exploring.
About the location of our seats on the first-base side....
but the corporate shills who sit in the first row? Get a tv in front of them.... with hockey reruns on it?!?
Lots of Mets prospects (and more than one reject) on the other side of the infield.
Most of my other game pictures are on the tablet and will get in the album eventually; good game, well pitched on both sides. Buffalo shut out the Pawsox, with plenty of good defense, a touch of injury to the Pawtucket leadoff hitter, and a lightsaber duel between Darth Vader and Wally the Cheap Muppet Sox Mascot (He lost when the Dark Lord shouted, "I AM YOUR BUCKNER!")
After that, I headed back to Cambridge to meet up with Geoff and Kelly, who were watching (he) and singing in (she) a performance of Ravel music in Harvard's Memorial Hall. I'd been by it many times, including in getting-lost efforts that very day, but had never been inside. Photography was strictly prohibited during, but I got this after- about as Hogwarts Hall as you're going to find on these shores:
They are teriffic, fun, and hard-working folk- both worked all day before and after, but we chatted a bit and I then headed off to bed with my surrogate adoptee:
Hello, Scratch;)
That got me right to....
Saturday had brought a little bit of drizzle, but it was Sunday I was really hoping would stay dry for the 5K. Blessedly, it did. I knew nobody there, and not a soul recognized my previous race from the stinkin' t-shirt-
That, in turn, was taken by these two, for whom I returned the favor:
Matching T's- "Clever" on your right, "Mastermind" on his. Her first 5K, she told me. Being the youngish types, they kicked up dust for me to eat when the gun went off, but we would cross minds again before the end- several times.
Two recurring themes in the pack: drinking and tragic death. This dude presented both:
I loved the carrot-stick logo for this upcoming race, and when I asked him to hold still for a shot of it, he invited me to come back for it up in Worcester in October. I explained this was kinda a one-off for me, and he said it was cool, but he had to let me know it was organized by him, in honor of his wife who just died from metastatic breast cancer. So if you can go, or donate, please. Here. This.
For much of the race, I was letting another couple pace for me- they were wearing shirts from the Wurm Running Club complete with little sneakered invertebrate, in honor of Rick Wurm, also taken by the evil C. You could look them up, too.
Again, since I was largely just standing round alone and wearing out my phone battery, I got asked to take another group shot:
Beautiful dog. She beat me going away- as did most of the pack when things got going.
Still. I kept a good pace for me- close to a 12-minute mile- but held down the actual run-running for a bunch of reasons. The humidity was back up, the course was NOT flat as advertised (no Heartbreak Hill, to be sure, but certainly a Teenage Romantic Angst Elevation in the middle of the third mile), and, psychologically the hardest, I didn't know the course well enough to know when it ended. I completely missed the 2-mile marker, and by then, most of the pack, including the stroller-pushers and the dog had long gotten past me.
I did catch up with Clever and Mastermind, though. Sadly, her leg cramped on at least two occasions, and while they finished ahead of me, it was closer than I'd have expected. I saw them at the afterparty and gave her, especially, congratulations- and him, as well, for his support and (at times) literal hand-holding. This shit makes me mushy.
The race was chipped, but there were no interval timings before, or even at, the end- I checked at a random spot, saw I was just over half an hour, saw another Little Spat Incline and yet another twisty turn, wondered if I'd make it through the thing,....
and made that final turn and saw the gorram finish about 4 feet behind it.
Win.
They texted the time about 5 minutes after finding it on the final slowpoke page of the printout: just over 36 minutes, a full eight off my June debut and, several regulars have said, pretty damn good.
We got medals. Including the dog. We did beers. She didn't:
Best shirt of the day, which I didn't see until it was over:
After all that, right on cue, my phone battery died. I'd parked at Kelly and Geoff's, way back past the beginning, and was not doubling back. Fortunately, I remembered another friend's phone number, where I'd packed a small bag with a change of clothes, and for the first time this decade, I used a pay phone. We are at the S&S in Inman Square (sign in lot: Restaurant parking. All others will be towed. Thanks bro), and I caught up with two old high school friends and their longtime spouses. Three women, one man (plus me). The love on each side of the table was palpable and about equal. Kiss my brunch, NOM.
From there, into a late-Sunday traffic jam, eventually landing at my niece's between Hartford and New Haven and finding a totally unexpected place for lunch. I'll do the story and pictures from all of that later, as well as from the game tonight, but...
I'll leave you with one preview of that: three generations of my family, all doing well and having a great day.