Summer of Dan

Put this in my stomach

I need this cake. More than words could ever express.

I would eat it. All. And love it. When it is sitting in my stomach with a gallon of milk.

Awesome Random Picture Friday - Part IV

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You're bound to be afraid

I'm almost 29. In just a few short days, I'll be 29 years old. I can't wait.

I don't really think people grow old, I just think they grow. Or they don't. A clock ticks, we all get a little older, but what changes? What needs to change? Sometimes nothing, sometimes everything.

I never worried about getting old. I always wanted to be older. My mom said to me once when I was much younger that I was an old soul. I believe that. I always have.

I'm an observer. I watch - people, animals, the world changing around me. We're here for such a short period you have to enjoy the time you are here. Soak it in. Enjoy what you company you keep. Enjoy what you eat. Enjoy what you are doing.

Because it's not worth it in the end if you don't.

Growing up for some odd reason I always wanted to be a lawyer. A chance conversation with my dad about lawyers and phonebooks had me rethinking my life dreams. I was afraid I wouldn't find something I loved. But I was wrong. I've never been so happy in being wrong.

The one thing I have always worried about my entire life is not having enough time to do everything I want to do. I've never worried about what I've done in the past, people learn from their mistakes (hopefully) and grow as individuals. As time passes I've worried less about not having that time to do everything I want to do and have tried to focus on enjoying what I am doing in the moment and what happens happens.

Deion? Bo? Hyndsy?

This past Memorial Weekend I took part in Boston's Run to Remember. It's a race that is dedicated to the fallen police of Boston and their children and it's split into a 5 mile race and a half marathon. The Niff did the half, I did the 5 miler.

It was a pretty big deal for me because I have always benefited from having a great pacer in the Niff - I tell her how fast I want to run and she is my rabbit. I don't think, I just follow at her pace. Very simple.

Not this time. She was on her own and so was I. Going in, I knew I had to have a playlist that I would love and that would push me - I had 35 songs, way more than I would need but I always plan for the worst case scenario I guess. I tried to have a good variety of music and artists, stuff I knew I wouldn't get sick of. I really was thinking "pick songs that you won't want to skip" because what's the point of making a playlist you are shuffling through while trying to run?

This is what I ended up with:

I had it on shuffle since I like to live dangerously like that and it still started on I'm Shipping Up To Boston. Oh the irony, especially since we start on the seaport and run past the old ships along the harbor.

The Niff took off about 30 minutes ahead of me, and the first mile was surprisingly good. I looked at my watch and was right around 10 minutes. I just wanted to finish in under an hour. That's it.

The second mile was good too. Again, no cramps, I felt good on the little baby hills of Boston and just enjoyed it. Again, I was about a 10 minute mile for the 2nd mile.

The third mile came and was gone quite quickly, probably because there was a water stop that I was looking forward to and snagged some Gatorade and water from and got back up to speed. By the time I hit the 3rd mile marker I actually felt fast and strong. I looked at my watch and I ran about 9:30 mile for my 3rd mile.

At that point, I figured why not go for broke - if I just maintained my current pace, I'd finish at about 50 minutes, so about 10 minute miles. Not bad at all.

But I wanted my splits to have a 9 at the beginning instead of a 10.

So I picked it up. I hit the 4 mile marker right as the escort turned the corner for the half marathon leader. The half marathon's 12th mile was the 5 mile race's 4th, so I ran next to the eventual winner for all of 6 seconds. To put it into perspective, he was literally running twice as fast as me, finishing with about a little more than 5:10 miles for all 13 miles.

I kicked my pace up a bit more and crested the final little hill before the end. If I had to guess, it was about 3/4 of a mile from the finish line and we could see it. But it never seemed to get any closer. I looked at my watch and it told me I had about 4 minutes to get to the finish line if I wanted to reach my goal of beating 50 minutes.

At the end of all my races I like to sprint as fast as I can. I used to sprint in high school and I love picking people off at the end. I tried to pick it up but I barely felt like I was moving. Rather than have anything left in the tank for a sprint, I used up all that extra oomph over the course of my race and that was something I was really proud of - I truly would finish with nothing extra and knew I would be done with using up everything I had.

But I put my head down and just ran a bit faster. I was about 50 yards from finishing and I looked down and saw I was around 49:35.

I finished in 49:43 for 9:57 splits.

I was elated. I was worried forever I wouldn't finish under an hour. That I would start out too fast. That I would cramp up. That I wouldn't know how to pace myself.

But I was fine. The entire way I just heard the Niff echoing instructions to me - If you start out and feel fine, you are going to fast. Drop your shoulders and loosen up. Recover on the downhills and get your breath back. Plow up the hills like you are a tank.

I was rewarded afterward with a massive bounty of food - bagels, coconut water, mini Lara Bars, oranges, and yes...Drake's powdered donuts.

The Niff finished her race shortly after I did and we pillaged the food tables a bit more before heading back to our hotel room across the street.

I credit three things for my success - a great instructor in the Niff, a great dinner in the North End the night before and lots of sleep, and a great playlist. Without any of these I would have a big cheese slice on my head.

Awesome Random Picture Friday - Part III

My meaning of life

About a week ago Flack and I got into a pretty interesting discussion about people being real - not in the sense of the "Real World - where people stop being polite and start getting real", but real real. Real as in authentic. Predictable. There is a level of comfort there. I think too many people are wrapped up in image and what people think. I've written about this sort of thing in the past but as I get old I think I add another piece to the puzzle. It's like a giant sociology project I guess.

An excerpt from an email from Flack to me really rang true to what I'm about and explains why I am the way I am and have the foundation of friends and family around me.

 I cant answer for others. I learned long ago what it is like to be a loser with no friends and to be used by others. I also know what it is like to be popular and everyone kissing your butt. The difference was that when I was a loser the friends I had were genuine. They had nothing to gain from being friends with me except friendship.
 
I also learned to be alone and be okay with being alone. I learned to rely on myself. I learned what was important in my life and my own priorities.
 
So as I get older I dont care about being "Cool". Im already cool to my friends and family. I accept Im great on some things and still learning about others. Im an outcast because I dont drink, buts its okay cause my best friends dont drink alot. I value truth and honesty because you cant hide behind it. I am who I am. When I die and people write that they could count on me and that I was solid and they knew who I was... that the world is worse without me... that means the most to me. No one will say I was cool, or I was a great athlete.
 
Alot of people need validation. They need X amount of friends or to be the best at something. They are needy and weak. People are selfish.

Thats not important to me, I have everything Ill ever need already. I always want to be a great competitor and win, but Ive already won in real life. Others havent, and never will.

It sounds cliche but it's not - it's true. It's ok to want to be the best at something and to strive to be better, but not when it consumes you. Or your personality. I appreciate, value, and care about all my friends and family, I take them for what they are and they take me for what I am.

I surround myself with rocks - people that are real, what I know what to expect from every time, people I can trust, people that are honest, people that are real.

The Niff and I are always talking about how the majority of the people we call friends are older than us and I think its more than just a maturity thing - I think a lot of these people just have the same values and ideals as us. Friends aren't just a number - they are there for you when you need them.

It's very important for me to surround myself with good people and to be a good person. I'm never sure if there is someone in the afterlife that will judge me, maybe there is. But I know that no one judges me more harshly than I do. I hold myself to a high standard. Everyone should.

Be accountable.
Be responsible.
Be trustworthy.
Be honest.
Be someone others aspire to be more like.
Be someone everyone wants around.
Be someone people can count on.

Just yesterday Flack and I started playing Halo again. Neither of us popped that disc in for at least a year. We had some rough outings but it wasn't all about the winning, we just wanted to have fun while trying to win. There is a big difference.

 

For the record - yes, I did drive us off a cliff yesterday which was followed by about 20 seconds of laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

 And Flack loved it.

Awesome Random Picture Friday - Part II

I wanted to immediately post after my last ARPF because I have millions of pictures, but I guess that means I'll never run out. Which is a good thing.

Put your mind into it

The other day at work we had a 300 lb. UPS (just a giant battery backup system so when we lose power our servers don't crash) that needed to be slid into one of our server racks. My boss has had some back issues lately so I figured I could lift it the 6 inches myself and slide it in, no problems.

Except that it has a massive power cord in the back. I slid the cord in on top of the other UPS that was sitting there and then proceeded to pick up the UPS.

No problems picking it up. Had a good grip on it and it didn't have to move all that far. I bent at the knees like dad used to always tell me and I started to put it into it's place.

Until the cord slid towards me.

There was no way the UPS would fit if the cord moved, so I slid it back.

And dropped the fucking thing against my shin and foot.

I'm lucky though, I didn't break anything that I know of and needless to say I have a massive bruise the size of a coffee travel mug on the inside of my shin. And my foot feels like Dumbo stomped on it.

We got it in there eventually after hiking it up onto a giant box of paper and sliding it in. If only I thought of that myself...

Awesome Random Picture Friday

As I surf the giant interwebs I come across a shitload of awesome photos - whether I consider them funny, art, inspiring, whatever. I don't claim anything - all rights belong to the people that own them/created them/what have you and I would definitely give credit to them directly, if I ever saved them conventionally. Many times they are from blogs, random picture sites that don't even cite the author/creator and I just use a mass downloader to grab stuff and sort through them later.

 

So. I apologize in advance if I display your stuff without any credit - no harm meant, just ask me to take it down if you want and I will. I'm just spreading awesome random pictures, not claiming any are mine. Sometimes I'll post them in my Photobucket under the Randomness album (see in the nav bar above).

 

That said, enjoy Awesome Random Picture Friday. Or ARPF for short. And yes, I know it sounds like a dog barking with a scarf in his mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

Rain, rain, come and stay

Some people complain about the rain, but you'll rarely hear me say boo about it. I feel bad for the worms that come up when it rains because their homes are flooding, only to fall in a puddle and struggle and there and then die. So I do my part and try to save as many worms as I can. Because I'm compassionate. And you think I'm weird. But that's ok. Because I think you are heartless.

When I was a kid growing up in Quincy I used to live on the 3rd floor of a gorgeous Victorian. The only person on that floor other than myself was my brother. We had really huge rooms, and I had the most amazing view of Boston's skyline from one area of my room. In the other section I could see out to the ocean. I had gutters right out my window, so whenever it rained I would crack my window and listen to it smack against the shingles before it made it's journey into the gutter and down to the ground. I'd spend forever in my room reading books with the windows open whenever it rained. Lots of good memories. Except the time I thought I returned a book to the library and accused the librarian of hiding it and saying she never got it. And then I found it tucked under my nightstand. And then I paid a whopping $2.50 for my late fee. 

It can't always be sunny and rain can make a lot of things better - football games turn into mudbowl games that people remember forever, it can cool off everything when it's scorching hot, walking on the beach or through the woods becomes infinitely cooler in the rain.

Rain isn't a bad thing. So don't treat it like it is. Assholes.