You had me at blanching and shocking

And now for Part Two of The Birthday Extravaganza.

It started off with a cooking class.  There were a few stations featuring different ingredients and recipes.  The Chef described each of them.

She got to the station with green beans.  She used the terms "blanching" and "shocking."

That settled it, I would be making the green bean dish.



After the cooking class we headed over to Durham Central Park and enjoyed the following activities

There was a near collision during the Blind Scavenger Hunt.
Fortunately those of us blindfolded had no idea.

After the hunt I put my blindfold in my purse.  

Of course I forgot it was there and pulled it out at an inopportune time.

Birthday Punch

Our lab put together a pre-birthday party, birthday party and post birthday party for our boss.

Why not celebrate your birthday three times?

The parties were all built around winnings from a charity auction.  

The Pre Party "The Punch" Report

The Pre-Birthday party featured two prizes

#1
Three singing self-proclaimed hot guys 

#2 One punching an MBA in the face (seriously).

In order to build the anticipation for the punch we had the three hot guys sing "Eye of the Tiger."  It was terrible in that good funny kind of way.

I don't think I've ever seen a real physical fight in person.  If I ever do witness one I kind of hope it's over me.  I mean, if you have to see that happen you might as well feel involved somehow.

The "bid" for the punch was not easy.  Our theory was the MBA who was getting punched was bidding on himself.  I had been anticipating this weird moment for quite some time.  

About a half hour before the party I started to feel really anxious about it.  I am definitely one of those "don't look" type people when things get really bloody or violent on screen (though sometimes I force myself to buck up and watch).  

This was just a punch but it was going to happen right in front of me.  I had every opportunity to "not look" but this whole situation was just too intriguing.  The MBA was doing this voluntarily.  My boss interviewed him before and after.  It was for charity.  It was going to happen whether or not I watched it.  I recognize this is just the type of thinking that has led to all sorts of human tragedy but there I was thinking it anyway.

The punched happened.  I flinched but looked.  

And then I laughed (laughter seems to be my default emotional response so I don't really know what that means).

And then it was over.   But the party wasn't.  This was the pre-brithday party.  We were just getting started.

Bat Woman

"There will be no workouts at Cross Fit Durham (CFD) this Sunday"

Sunday morning Cross Fit with Coach Paul is as close as I'll ever come to church (now that I think about it, I was actually at CFD this past Easter and Christmas).

So what in the hell was I going to do now?

Drive to Holly Springs, of course.

It was worth every $4.25 gallon of gas.

Coach Paul made some smart remark about how much I enjoy getting horizontal vertical.
His remark led to this fantastic picture.

It's all about balance.

I want to do another shot at CFD that shows faces and has a bunch of us upside down with our shoe color in rainbow order.  I have seen pretty much every color shoe so far.  I would like to own a rainbow set of sneakers.

"Give me one of everything I need an ID to buy"

We had a Secret Santa at work (yes, in April).  I got a young intern.  What can I get for this kid that he can't get himself?

I decided to find out.

I went to a corner store and said "Give me one of everything I need an ID to buy"

The gift also included cigarettes, cigars, chew, liquor & lottery tickets.

All wrapped in deceptively themed boxes & paper tied up with purple ribbons.

I was very underwhelmed by the magazine.  No articles.

A broken golf club makes a great pool stick

The Lab goes golfing.  This is this first redemption of one of many items from the charity auction.

I bid on two beginner golf lesson (boss paid) thinking it was something folks at the lab might not do on their own but would enjoy given the opportunity.

And that's exactly how it panned out.

Even the part where a co-worker broke my driver was funny.  The ball went nowhere.  The head of the club went flying.  I was stunned when it happened.  I didn't realize these things were breakable.  They are.  They are also fixable, fortunately.

The instructors told us that collared shirts and khaki pants were preferred.  I planned on stopping home and changing before the lesson but was held up.  So I arrived in a collared sweater and tank top.  It was just too hot for the sweater.

So, I golfed in a tank top.  An excellent or terrible choice, depending on your perspective.

I'm really good at picking up men

Protocol

I ran experiments for the better part of the afternoon.

People come in to the lab and we have them do tasks.

I work from a script I quickly memorized.

It felt kind of cold and robotic.  

But then I embraced the role and found it relaxing.  

And my lab-mates complimented my demeanor.

I really want a white coat now.

I chose death over diarrhea

Let's say I have colon cancer.  Here are my options.

Surgery A
Chance cured without complication 80%
Cured with colostomy 1%
Cured with chronic diarrhea 1%
Cured with intermittent bowel obstruction 1%
Cured with wound infection 1%
No cure (death) 16%

Surgery B
Chance cured without complication 80%
No cure (death) 20%

Without any time for consideration, I chose Surgery B.  Death over Diarrhea.

"Why?" the speaker at the Medical Decision Making talk I was attending asked the few of us who selected Surgery B.

For whatever reason when I thought about me having colon cancer I imagine I'm old.
Not that I know anything about age incidence and colon cancer.
And of course my children are financially independent and my life insurance and estate will be my parting gifts.

A bunch of stuff might be medically wrong with me at that age anyway.

And while it sounds dark, death is a certainty at some point.

If I die in surgery B I won't care.  I'm dead.  I can't care.

Both surgeries come with a possibility of survival and a possibility of death.  More chance I get cured than not.  I also have a notion that because something highly unlikely medically already happened to me I've paid my dues.  I understand this isn't an accurate notion at all.  But I have it nonetheless.

Something about Surgery B seems braver to me.   I've not really thought much about old lady Jamie but I would like to think she's brave.  Then again, I think about life with the aforementioned complications.  I would probably find humor in them because, well, I would have to.

As the speaker continues to talk I wonder if I'm kidding myself.

Would I really prefer death over diarrhea?

Top Eight Favorite Things About My Evening with Ira Glass

#1
Ira started the show.  In the dark.  For a moment everyone in the audience was alone in their car listening to This American life.

#2
I read something in the local newspaper that made me think he might not talk about Mike Daisey.  That wouldn't have felt right.  It would have felt like a show, not a performance.  He brought up the Mike Daisey thing and talked about it without letting it take over

#3
He told all the folks who were there on dates and had no idea who he was or what he was talking about that he hoped they would all get laid.

#4
"Great stories happen to those who can tell them."

#5

“It's important that you're out to amuse yourself"

#6

He answered questions from folks in the cheap seats during Q&A.

#7
He was delightfully straightforward.

Paraphrased
"People tell me I have a great voice for radio.  I don't.  I talk like a 15 year old.  You're just used to it.  There's a lot to be said for repetition."
Audience Member:  Do you have any tried and true questions you use to bring out a really great story?
Ira:  Yes.  "Do you have a really great story?"


#8
He does talk like a 15 year old.  I would be wasted in 5 minutes if there was a drinking game based on him saying "Like" or "You know."

Least favorite thing about the evening:  Paying to park in the garage where I used get paid to park.

Hours and Deep Practice.

A few years ago I read "The Talent Code."  The book prompted me to reconsider my assumptions about aptitude and practice.   I won't do it justice but the gist of the book is that talent is about hours and hours of deep practice.

It challenges deeply engrained notions about being gifted or born with a skill.  There's something really intriguing about the idea of a prodigy.  The idea that "you kind of have it or you don't" is also incredibly useful in terms of explaining our own avoidance, shortcomings and frustrations with certain types of activities.

The book reframed how I think about my own successes and failures.  The concept of deep practice was most compelling (as was the realization I am not good at it).  I take deep practice to mean allowing yourself to fail.  Fail harder.  Let go.  Feel like an asshole.  Challenge yourself, push yourself, set aside assumptions, shut up and listen.  Don't phone it in. And hours.  Lots and lots of hours.  

There's something very heartening about this approach.  I am not a stellar Cross Fitter or dancer.  The book reminds me I *could* be.  I admit I haven't given either the hours or deep practice to warrant improvement.  

All that said, a small part of me maintains that I'm just kinesthetically challenged.
As have others.  

Yes, it feels like an excuse.  

Yes, it flies in the face of a premise that I claim to embrace (and has decent empirical support).

After six days of skiing, I call shenanigans.  On myself.

You can't be kinesthetically challenged and successfully negotiate your movement through racing gates, moguls and significant changes in equipment (straight to carved).  I'm still riding the high of how masterful I felt on the mountain last week.

I can't remember not knowing how to ski.  I started very young and skied a lot. Then raced a lot.  Hours.  I trained.  I practiced.  On one ski.  With no poles.  Drills.  I messed around a lot too (tried random shit) and when I add it all up I'm calling it deep practice.

So, "Talent Code" this is why I chose you when I gazed at the book selection in the lab.  Let's catch up.

Yes, that's a penguin on my head

I remind myself of an "Elf Yourself" video.

Dear American Airlines indeed.

A story about getting laid over in the middle of a trip.

Silver Joy

There's something wonderful about rediscovering joy.

I'm in Colorado this week (I love this Spring Break academic calendar thing) skiing.  The weather great, the conditions good (great by New England standards) and very fun company.

I enjoyed the first few days getting back into the groove, working on technique and breaking my body into it (a housemate put it best when she woke up after the first day and said "I feel like elephants have stepped on me.")

Today the NASTAR course was open.  For this first time in almost half my life I ran gates.  Repeatedly.

I absolutely loved it.  Exhilarating, thrilling, speed.  This was joy.  Rediscovered.

Most of my runs were Bronze but I managed to score a Silver.

Being in my thirties definitely helps with ratings/rank.
And I have two more days to get Gold.

I love Spring Break

Golf Club and The Creepy Killer

There are two of us left at the lab.  It's early evening.  It's dark.

My co-worker, G, packs up. 

Jamie:  I'm about ten minutes behind you but can you please lock me in?

(turn the knob on the door so the code is needed to get into the lab).

G:  Sure.  See you.

About three minutes later I get a text from G:

FYI someone is creepily hovering on the steps

I'm waiting for the second part of the text that says "I'll come back and we can walk out together."  Kind of wondering what level of concern prompted a text but not a rescue.  I write back and ask.

I'm not worried worried.  But I decide that I'll feel more at ease (and potentially appear more intimidating) with some type of defense.

I look around the lab.  Aha!  Golf Club.  Perfect.  Almost poetic.

I'm getting ready to leave and step outside the lab (but not outside the building) to use the restroom.

In the foyer of the building I see the back of a big guy in jeans and a hoodie standing purposelessly

Jamie (thinking):  Holy shit.  It's the killer! (yes, he went from being a creepy guy to the killer).  He's in the building.  Attack?  Get back in the lab.  Krav Maga.  Cross Fit.  Get him in the balls and then the face.  Go for the eyes (this is a split second worth of thinking).

The killer turns around.

It's a co-worker.

I start laughing hysterically.  

And kinda wish he hadn't turned around.

Golf and Studs

On Friday night my boss sent a few folks from the lab to a charity auction to obtain items the lab might enjoy (in other words we bid, he paid).

My hovering skills (part of the auction was silent) resulted in obtaining both items I chose for the lab.

Item #1
Two golf lessons for ten people.

I put it to the lab like this - "You people need more practical skills."

Item #2
We'll get a private concert from three MBA's who describe themselves as "studs."  They'll come to the lab and sing top 40 songs.  I made a bid.

Someone came over and remarked "Hey look, we're up to XX amount."

Jamie (says):  Are you one of the three studs?

Jamie (thinking):  He's good looking in that generic MBA kind of way.  Please say yes.

Stud:  Yes.

Jamie (says):   I'll give you stud-ly but where are the other two?  And do you know Rebecca Black's Friday?

Jamie (thinking):  Please say yes.

Stud:  Over there (points).   And yes.

Jamie (thinking):  MBA's all look the same.

Jamie (says):  Approved.  I own you.  Start rehearsing.

Jamie (thinking):  It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday.

Somehow I missed "Friday" at the height of it's popularity.  So, now I play it every Friday and try to get a little dance party going.  I usually only have one other person who will rock out with me and that's enough. It also bothers the crap out of someone else who then requires we listen to 18 minutes of classical music as cleansing.

I can't wait for these guys to show up and sing it.  We're going to try to schedule all of our events around the same time (to hell with the research about spreading out enjoyable experiences) and call it a carnival.

Reconsidering Retirement

When I first arrived in Florida I was floating in the pool gazing at a palm tree and thought: Travel to Florida is great motivation to save for retirement.

After eight games of Scrabble (and then some Connect Four) I reconsidered and decided being in Florida is just good motivation never to retire.

Getting Real In The Whole Foods Shopping Cart

Now I'm on the inside looking at my list.

Hummus, Pita, Jamie, and a Lemon Twist.

Duh

The study of behavioral economics yields unexpected insights that can challenge our assumptions and experience of the world we live in.

It also yields results to which many respond "Duh."

Sometimes I think "Duh" might be funny alternate name for our lab (the lab already has a very funny name that I've not yet been able to say with a straight face).

The "Duh" response can undermine the impact of an empirical exploration of a topic or the discovery of a nuance that might lead us to question conventional thinking.  It's sorta arrogant too.

I was presenting research to a corporation last week.  Here's how I set things up:

"One of the things I like working at a place called The Cntr 4 Advncd Hndsght* is the opportunity to ask people what they think the results will be before they can remark that they're obvious.  So, before I move on to the next slide please take a moment to consider the outcome."

And I waited a good solid moment.  

I didn't want to be pedantic by asking for people to share or write down their hypotheses but unprompted, some folks did.

Perhaps that added some (relative) zing to my results.  They weren't earth-shattering but there was an important difference in conditions I wanted to highlight.  

The conversation that followed was better for it. Obviously.

*using abbreviations to keep Google off this.

Why I Might Not Be A Good Social Scientist: Reason #4

I default to participation versus observation.
I was in a social setting where I was meant to observe people playing a game.
The first question was asked, I knew the answer, I jumped up and rang the bell.

Oops.

Random Delights

I'm just back from an adventure in Minnesota.  The temperatures and lack of snow were unimpressive.  Had it not been for a "Youbetcha" at hotel check-in I might have wondered if I was in the wrong place.

Actually, I was at the wrong place at the time of the youbetcha.  It did not occur to me that there were like three Hiltons downtown.  I was pleased with the relative luxuriousness of the hotel and room when I finally got there.  Of utmost importance however:

Products!

I was in Minnesota for work.  We've been working with a corporation in Minneapolis addressing business questions using behavioral economics.  My personal highlight was sharing research I had done on their behalf (hotel products were a close second).

I learned a lot observing my boss manage conversations, draw on research and respond to questions.  Also, he can be extremely blunt and it's quite entertaining.  It's never ill-intentioned or disrespectful.  Just pointed.  With good reason.

As part of my research I spent my Friday night outside of a MN town called "Ham Lake" playing a modified version of Family Feud with perfect strangers.

Very random delights.

Unique Scandinavian Design?

You can't put a round peg in a square hole.
You also can't put a triangular piece of glass in a rectangular window frame.

A few posts ago I wrote about my father and the death of his very close friend.  I noted that his faith would provide him some comfort.

It isn't.

My father is deeply religious and believes in a heaven.  Of believers.

His friend was not a believer.  They will not meet again in an after life.  His friend is gone.  Forever.   My dad's faith is strong and there are no exceptions or reinterpretations.  I respect and admire his commitment to his principles.  They have brought him profound comfort, peace and joy but often times the depth of one emotion can be matched by it's opposite.

In an effort to better understand the origin of this belief I've started to study the bible.  My limited understanding of the contents suggest an element of interpretation.  I have no intention of trying to change what my dad believes.  I truly want to understand what guides him.

I'm not religious but I am interested in the study of it.  A year ago I took a class about the Philosophy of Religion that explored arguments for and against the existence of God.  It led me to wonder how my very logical father reasoned his faith.  It led me to ask him.  The depth of his faith is such that the question of the existence of god isn't a fathomable question.

I admit that as much as I admire my dad's faith I wonder about the idea of set of prescribed beliefs rather than reasoned or discovered guiding principles.  There's something inflexible about the former and slippery about the latter.

I've explored the question of my own spirituality and I cannot embrace the idea of a god.  I can ask the question, but sometimes I wonder if I've truly allowed myself to fathom the idea and if I any less flexible in my so called exploration of the topic.

I just don't know.

Carleton brought me to Dan so I brought Dan to Carleton.

A nice note I got after the event:

You gave Carleton a great gift last night.  Dan's talk was a big hit, generated a lot of buzz and discussion, and modeled expansive thinking about important issues coupled with scientific discipline.  It was wonderful.

Jamie's Halftime Show

Madonna was great.  But imagine how awesome it would have been if you heard the first few notes of Vogue, a shadow of Madonna and then this.

I'm too easily entertained.

I had a brief moment of, something, watching the ads.

It's possible I'll be more on the hook for clever remarks about the commercials tomorrow than I ever was at the agency.  It's also possible I'll be the only person who watched the game.

Terror and Intrigue

A few years ago I signed up for an improv class.  The prospect was terrifying and intriguing.

I thought it would be good to do something that scared me a little bit.  And I was feeling clumsy at the time.  By clumsy I really mean I wasn't feeling like I was good at anything.  

I thought I might be good at improv.  I can be quick to make remarks.  Sometimes these remarks are funny.  Perhaps there was something more I could do with my quips.  I attended many improv shows and often had my own ideas about where I would have taken the situation if I was on-stage (I realized coming up with ideas here and there from the safe environment of the audience wouldn't translate to brilliance on-stage). 

The first class made me uncomfortable.  I know, I know that's the point. 

The second class I was on stage acting like a vulture ordering a smoothie.  

I felt like an asshole.

I was not able to attend the third class due to work.

The week after that, work was an excuse not to attend.

The week after that missing two straight weeks was an excuse to drop the class.

I quit.  I bailed.  I was a wussy.  I never felt quite right about it and often thought I should take the class in order to conquer the things that led me to bail.  In part because those things (anxiety, self consciousness, not liking be out of control) are my Achilles heel.

Last week I attended Part One of storytelling workshop.  It was led by the guy who started The Monti.  

The leader made some remarks and then asked who wanted to start.

Silence.

I finished my wine like I was doing a shot.
I stood up.
Told my story.
I was happy with it but knew I could improve based on the feedback from the audience and my own self-assessment.  

A week later, Part Two.  And this times there's a mic with the option to record.  Several folks had yet to share so I hadn't planned on telling another story. Until everyone had gone with much time left in the session.  I chugged my wine and during the short walk between the couch and the mic (5 feet) I thought of a story and told it.

There's something intriguing and terrifying about telling a personal story in front of a live audience. 

Of course after listening to it I've thought of a several things to change and improve.  That said I was happy with my (relatively) slower pace and (relatively) less anxiety in my voice.  

And, how much and how little I've changed since high school. 

There are .6 grams of carbs in one strand of spaghetti

One week into the "Look Better Naked Challenge."

My weekly total was about the same as most people's daily totals.

When I sent in my points I wrote "Yes, that's my weekly total, not my daily average."

The nutrition bit is killing me (literally).  

For all the fish oil and water drinking and workout out and sleeping I've done (positive points) "cheat meals" are negative points.  Cheat meals makes it sound like I had ice cream for breakfast.  I have.  Some of my meals have been almost "Zoned" but not quite.  I prefer to think of those as noncompliant.  But they're one and the same for this challenge.

I love spaghetti.  I cheat with spaghetti.  I'm trying to make an honest meal of spaghetti.   

There are .6 grams of carbs in one strand of spaghetti.  

That allows me 45 strands per meal.

That's almost as sad as weighing spaghetti.

You know you've been in North Carolina too long

Cashier:  What are you packing?

Jamie (thinking):  Do I look like I carry a gun?  

Jamie looks down and realizes the question is in reference to her purchase.

Jamie (says):  A Smith & Wesson

Cashier laughs.

Someone woke up the dragon. Happy Chinese New Year.

Christians should celebrate with takeout and trip to the movie theater.  

A spin on a Jewish Christmas.  Christian Chinese New Year.

Wateraholic

Drinking (and tracking) 64 ounces of water a day (+ visits to the rest room) is kind of a hassle.

Until I found this:

The minimalist in me loves the multi-purposeness of it.

I actually want to bake for the sole purpose of using the glass to measure an ingredient and then having a shot.  

And, the associated trips to the restroom might become more entertaining.   

I think I just found a birthday gift for Diane.

Who was the hero? Dance.

I agreed to see "The Artist" not realizing it was a silent film.
I gave directions not be woken when I fell asleep.

I stand (wide awake) corrected.

The movie was delightful.  Especially delightful to screen at the lovely Carolina Theater.

What is President Walken doing in Hollywood in 1929?  I've decided I'm just happier living in a world where Sam Seaborn, er, I mean "The West Wing" is real.

Pre-Challenge Benchmarks

Huh?  What challenge?  This one.

BMI:  18.6

Body Fat:  17.1%

Blood Pressure: 120/97

Heart Rate:  92 

Heart rate is a bit high.  The coach advised me to relax and took it again.  It went up to 97.

Triglycerides: 213 (this is a measurement from a November 2011 Dr. appointment)

Christine: 14 minutes 25 seconds, not Rx

Who is Christine?

It's the name of a workout that consists of three rounds of the following:

Row 500m

Dead-lifts 12 reps, Rx weight is your bodyweight.  I lifted a little bit more than half of me.

Box Jumps, 21 reps on a 21 inch box.  I did more stepping than jumping in the last round.  

Before Pics:  Taken.  I'm not modest but I'm also not stupid enough to post these on the internet. 

I'll be hyperlinking to this page in about ten weeks. 

Why I Might Not Be A Good Social Scientist: Reason #3

I think a personal conversation is, well, personal.

I was talking to my boss about philosophical and moral issues.  In the context of what we do it's tricky to separate a professional conversation from a personal conversation but this one was definitely more along the lines of the latter.

I posed a question that intrigued my boss.  At the close of the conversation I joked "Let's do a study."  Many conversations end with "Let's do a study" that don't actually materialize in one.  Like the equivalent of saying "I'll call you" at the end of a date when you know you don't want another.

The next morning my boss had already initiated a collaboration between me and a professor at another university to further explore the topic.

This reason (and others) are more remarks about the nature of the work I'm doing through the lens of my previous experience, current inexperience, cynicism and naiveté.  I have plenty of reasons to think I'm a great social scientist but it's just more fun to think about falling flat on my face.

And, they'll be good fodder for my book tour.

Sleep, not Soda

A few days after I resolved to be more of a bad ass at Cross Fit and Eat better I read about the "Look Better Naked Challenge" on the Cross Fit Durham website.

My first thought was "I already look great naked."

But I read on and decided that if I was serious about my resolutions there were reasons to sign up for this besides looking even better naked (I have my issues folks.  Body image just isn't one of them.  Nor is modesty).

The challenge gives points for things like eating balanced meals, post work out meals, fish oil intake, drinking 64 ounces of water  a day, going to Cross Fit (duh) and here's my absolute favorite:  Getting 8 hours of sleep.  Points are deducted for things like not taking a rest day, soda, booze, anything that tastes good.

There are two meal plan options.  Whole30 and the Zone.

I only had to read the first page of the Whole30 plan to decide it was not an option.  First of all, the first page was one of like 20 pages.  The first page outlined what you cannot eat.  That continued onto the second page.  After one page I was at a loss for what other foods existed, consumable or not.

The Zone is complicated in it's own way but is far less restrictive and in line with my philosophy that all meals should include a mix of carbs, protein and fat (that philosophy is unrealized but having one is a step away from grocery shopping at the vending machine).

Dr Dog

My dad finds great joy in golf.  I feel joy knowing he has this.

My Dad grew up in Queens across the street from a golf course.  So, he golfed often.  Very often.

Dad is golf.

A few summers ago I joined my dad on the course.  There was a bit of commotion and his golf partner felt it was affecting his game to which my father responded "It shouldn't."

My dad explained the level of concentration required by the game from the golfer should be such where your mind is with your body, swing and ball.  Nothing else.  It was in that moment I realized part of the joy of the game is escape and I further understood what time on the course brought to my dad (for one thing, my dad and I are both afflicted with the propensity to focus on what's next instead of the moment).

So, I took great pause in a phone call I had with my Dad (on Christmas Day, 2010) when he indicated his joy for the game was diminishing.  Dad is golf.  It's about being with your body, swing and ball.

What could possibly affect that?

A friend, a golf partner, and wonderful person who went by "Dr. Dog"  had pancreatic cancer.   He would not be a survivor.   This disease was going to kill him.  My dad was going to lose his best friend.   And without the joy of their camaraderie on and off the course the game changed.  My dad changed.  Because it's about so much more than your body, swing and the ball.

Dr. Dog was blessed with much more time than expected.  He got a few more tee times.  His life was celebrated with a roast.  He lived his final months as he did his life.  Joking and laughing and embracing commotion.

Dr. Dog died on January 7th, 2012.

I am deeply sad for my dad.  I know him well enough to have some idea how he will deal with and experience this loss.  His faith will provide some comfort.

In the spirit of the joy golf brought to both Dr. Dog and my father I went to driving range on the day of his memorial and whacked away thinking not about the ball or the swing but wishing joy to my dad and Dr. Dog in whatever form it might take.

Kickin' Grass Kickin' Ass For Ten Years

Hi 2012. Here are some thoughts about the next 357 days we'll be spending together.

Not all of this needs to happen.  2012 (like 2011, 2010, 2090 and so on) will present me with new challenges to face, resolve or fail.   

Be more of a bad ass at Cross Fit 
I've got more in me than I give.
I'm mindful of things like pacing and avoiding injury but I need to push myself harder.
My mind is full of will, feistiness and strength that I need to demand from my body.

Cross Fit an extremely conducive environment (some might say too conducive) for this and I've had moments where I've channeled my determination (or a Coach just screams at me) and have truly given it everything I've got.  I want to do this consistently, not momentarily.

Play to a strength:  Swimming
I'm a really good swimmer.  I spent 13 summers in a lake in New Hampshire participating in and eventually running a swim program with a focus on form.  Years later I learned that speed that can come with an efficient stroke and strong body.  I've got both and they're starting to sync up.

My swim goals for 2012 are to
-steadily improve 100m pace for 250m swim
-do a 2 mile swim and don't drown.  Goodbye Little Uno, Hello Big Deuce.

Produce
I want to make something.  And I want it to have an audience and impact.
This could manifest itself in a number of ways.  At present, my hope is that I achieve this through my work.  In academia, getting published seems to be the golden goose. That's not necessarily what I'm after but the sentiment is similar.  Ask a good question, explore it, express it, share.  Something like that.  Or maybe just get pregnant and reproduce.

Disembark 
I've spent a great deal of time in the past year and half in my head or on the road.  There was good reason to spend time in both destinations but it has left me feeling a bit disconnected from places, people and possibilities.

Eat Better 
I'm really bad about preparing and planning meals and sometimes I don't have hunger as a prompt.  My last blood test revealed high triglycerides.  Considering all the things I do that prevent high triglycerides (I don't smoke, drink that much and I exercise a lot) my diet must be pretty bad for something to show through.

Park Better 
I have a small car.  I don't always park straight but I'm always in the lines and I've maintained that's all that matters.  Until I saw this.  There's just something obnoxious and stupid looking about it.

Okay 2011, Let's Talk

At the beginning of the year I told 2011 what I was thinking.
In this post I've italicized my 2011 resolutions (also titles in bold).


Here's what I did and didn't accomplish this year.
And my excuses, I mean, what I learned in pursuit of these resolutions .




2011 Resolution: Listen/Follow
I need to listen longer to make sure I really hear what someone is saying (wait for the lead) process it (feel the lead) and then react (follow).

End of Year Audit 
I learned that part of listening is hearing what isn't being said.
Oftentimes the words that speak the loudest are those unspoken.


2011 Resolution:  Enter a Novice Jack & Jill

End of Year Audit
Done Jack.  Done Jill.


The first J&J was for "First Timers."  How fitting.
Last place.  
Almost unanimous.
(Can you qualify "unanimous" with "almost"?)


One judge gave us second to last place on account of our spirit.  Spirited and joyful it was and that's what dancing is meant to be.


My stated goal was to follow.  My insight was to delight in the dance.


Delight in the deliciousness of a swing out.  Craft one.  Towards the end of the year I took a private lesson (and then another) that synced up my body/mind in way I've not felt previously.


Fucking up is also more fun.  I don't want to make Lindy Hop sounds like a free for all but the more you embrace the improv, well, just remember:  Yes, And.  My favorite aerials are the ones where I fall on the floor. 


2011 Resolution:  Mindfullness
Re-channel Mindfulness about how I am perceived to mindfulness about how I communicate.  Recognize that mindfulness about the latter will mitigate concerns about the former.


End of Year Audit 
I'm always going to care about how I'm perceived (and even when I don't really care it's part of my persona to do so anyway).


The real concern lies in misperception.  I feel more confident in my ability to communicate and less concern about being misperception (or just flat out not making sense).


Not sure if that's a result of mindfulness or Xanax.  


Who cares? (now, that's the Xanax talking).


2011 Resolution 
Impact/Innovation/Extraordinary Creative / Geek Out + Enrichment

End of Year Audit
I invented a job.  Big fucking check here.
That's two resolutions resolved at once.


2011 Resolution Body
I don't want to lose any weight.  
I want to gain muscle, tone, strength and definition.




End of Year Audit 
Here's the visual on this one

I gained strength, lost my appetite, lost weight, lost strength, ate a lot of  junk food, gained some weight, regained some strength but at year's end I'm down a few dress sizes and pushups.  Woe is me.  

Just go to Anthropologie and find a new dress.


2011 Resolution:  Wake Forest Miles for Smiles 2011 Triathlon.
This was my first triathlon in 2009.  I'm going to do it again this year and improve on my performance in some way.

End of Year Audit 
I'm a really good swimmer.
My swim rank was 34 out of 152 women for this triathlon.
I steadily improved my times and stamina on two open water mile swims.
 I did two open water 

Ski

End of Year Audit
Got to the mountains with Crusty and Jon in the early part of the year.  We skied Mt. Baldy, which was quite bald, but fun nonetheless.


Ski trip for 2012 already planned.  Colorado.  March.

Whimsy, Purposelessness

It just wasn't that kind of year.


Oh well.

The Art of Upside Down

I love being upside down. 

Earlier this week at Cross Fit I hung upside down on the rings for 2 minutes.

I was pleased with the duration but around a minute thirty my form was shaky.

Form First.  

I love this about Cross Fit.  Form, form, form.  

And in the spirit of that I resolved to get my form perfect and bail the second it isn't sustainably so.  

Two minutes can wait.

Today, "Born Ready Missy Coach Paul" and side-kick Dave (owns the place) spent time working with me.  I love what they strive for me to do, the corrections made throughout my attempt without sugar coating but still supportive.  Taking video was most helpful as it looks much different than it feels.

My favorite part of this video is when
Dave says "Right there."
and Paul says "No, not right there."

The joint coaching in general is the most (only) entertaining thing about this video, actually.

I've enjoyed the recent gymnastics focus at Cross Fit.
I'm going to share some dancing aerials videos with Dave/Paul and suggest throwing (ha ha) them into skill practice.  The real plan is to find someone and seduce them (this isn't going where you think it is) to join aerials practice. 

Paul still hates Michael Kelley.