14th Annual International Siem Reap Half-Marathon

I have played a lot of sports in my life: competitive basketball and tennis tennis year-round in Germany growing up, intramural baseball, basketball and soccer at FIS as a kid, swimming in our backyard pool and the local team, trying out for an American Football team in Frankfurt as a 14year old (and getting explicitly asked to return after only 20 minutes of the first practice, but not having enough money or time to afford the twice-weekly commute, and never even thinking to ask my parents), basketball, football, rock-climbing, and ultimate frisbee in high school, ultimate and intamural basketball in college, and everything else with a ball or a team in a less official capacity throughout my life. But there is one thing I never enjoyed, nor truly gave a shot: running.

In the 4 years at GW, I always ran harder than I wanted or even was smart in practice, but only went on distance runs if there was no way to avoid them. I always felt I could make up for that in practice, working harder than anyone realized, playing on a broken toe my senior spring that no one except Brody knew about (and that's why he always picked me up from practice after everyone else left - I physically could not walk home). So really, the longest distance I had ever run in my life was an 8 mile run Faust put us through my Junior year.

Until a few weeks weeks ago that is. When planning for my month in Cambodia, I very explicitly asserted that I would not visit the temples of Angkor Wat at Siem Reap during this trip. Since they are the highlight - and reason for - most trips to Cambodia, I should probably explain why I t would say that: Anytime I get into museums or archaeological sites I spend hours upon hours there, reading every printed word and trying to absorb as much of the place as possible. Given that my time in Cambodia was going to include no more than free weekends to explore things outside of Phnom Penh and I didn't feel that such a short time would do Angkor Wat justice (I think it's about 30 square miles in total), I told anyone who asked what I planned on seeing that I would not be heading to Siem Reap. Instead, I planned on getting to know Phnom Penh a bit, maybe going for a weekend (or two) at the sea by Sihanoukville. Angkor Wat would still be there on my next trip....

But then I was out for drinks my first weekend in town with the core of what became my regular P.P. crew, and one of them mentioned a half-marathon amongst the temples of Angkor Wat - with proceeds going to charity. The White African and I looked at each other, and though neither one of us committed right away, it was pretty clear to me that both of us would participate if our research/field work schedules didn't interfere. For me personally, the desire to complete this race were threefold:
- As I am missing, through the Cambodia and USA trips, the first 3 months of Burro training for next season I felt compelled to do fitness work on my own. Given my previously stated aversion to running, I thought that preparing for the half marathon would be a good way to motivate myself to go out and do the running work, at least.
- I didn't want to half-ass the temples in 2 days, but I felt this way I would at least see some of the temples without short changing them as the goal wouldn't be to actually see them. Rather I would be able to go and accomplish a specific task - the run - while still getting to see at least some of the temples.
- Not previously having run such a distance, a new challenge presented itself. More and more people I know are doing marathons, and I wanted to see what distance running is like. Plus, I believe you should try everything once and the fun things twice.

So how did it go?
- Prep was a disaster. Working in an office where the hours are 7.30 am to 5.30 pm, it was dark already when I would leave; and I wasn't about to run before work, homey please! In total, my preparation ended up consisting of an attempted 10km run on the Saturday the week before the race. Unfortunately, I attempted this run at noon in a tropical climate and polluted city. Running to the Olympic Stadium (more on that edifice/complex if I ever find the time) was ok as i was able to more or less stay in the shade. But once I was running in the big empty stadium, alone on the ash track with the scorching sun beating down on me I couldn't do much distance anymore. It was so brutal that I could only do 1200 meters (3 laps) at a time and would then have to rest in between. It was painful and despiriting, and after a few of these sets I gave up and began running back towards home, stopping for a fresh cococnut (about 1 liter of juice!) on the way. Total distance run was maybe 6 or 7 km, where i had intended to run 10 in the stadium plus the run there and back.
- On Friday night, 2 days before the race, The White African insisted we go running, so we once again headed to the stadium. It was going fine, this time running in a dark stadium, until we got kicked out. Total run? 4-5 km.
Neither the White African nor I had registered beforehand, and when we showed up at the on-site registration we were told it was closed as they had run out of spaces. This despite their insistence on the phone all week that registering on site would not be a problem. A girl who'd bussed down from Bangkok was in the same boat and the three of us got together to beg, demand, and cajole our way into the race, even as others around us were being turned away left and right (literally). We didn't get the timing chips, but we got to race, and that's all we really wanted.
- TLS and new wife (whom I'd never met before) were in Siem Reap the same weekend as the run, so we met up on Saturday evening for drinks and dinner. everyone else hit the sack early, but I ended up drinking with TLS until midnight. Mind you the race began at 6.30 am and out tuktuk was booked for 5.45 am, so I was getting up at 5.15
- The run itself was amazing. Running through/between the temple complexes along 1000 year old walls lining the smoothly paved roads with a forest canopy above much of the run and lots and lots of Cambodian children lining the side, extending their tiny arms for high fives/hand slaps it was an amazing first distance race experience. You'd be running along, especially after the 10k mark, just focused on putting one foot in front of the other and happen to look to the side, where beautifully carved temples were collapsed and eroded, their large carved rocks spilling down what once must have been a massively impressive facade all the way to the edge of the road. My descriptions really can't do the sensation of running there justice, so I'll just stop, It was amazing.
- Since my preparation had been so horribly sub-par, I did not have very high expectations for myself going into the race. I wanted to finish. I wanted to complete the first 10 k without stopping and walking. And in an ideal world, I thought maybe I could manage those first 10 k in 50 minutes despite the fact that I had only managed 6 minute kilometers in the two training sessions I undertook. Indeed, I expected to manage the first 10 to 12 k running, then walking until about 17, then running the rest. What actually happened was quite different:

I asked another runner for my time at the 6k mark, where I stood at 32:30, and decided to pick up my pace. I saw the same runner again at ~11k and decided to trail her as I was beginning to fade and she had come up from behind and passed me. At 12k I asked the time again, now at exactly 64 minutes flat. From then on we ran side by side as she clocked out kilometer splits, all of which were between 5:15 and 5:20 until about 17.5k when i told her to run on ahead as I knew I couldn't sustain the pace. I made the mistake of stopping to pee and coudln't get started again, so I just began walking, mixed with short runs, until a guy grabbed me from behind at about 19.5 and grunted "keep running!" I soon had left that guy in the dust and as I approached the finish I got faster and faster, concluding with a speed that I heard other runners and people in the crowd comment on very positively ("Look at how fast that guy's going!" was hear from someone in the crowd).
Ultimately, I crossed the finish line about 1:55 (one hour, fifty five minutes) after I crossed the starting line, surpassing all my expectations and feeling very good about myself. I now know that I can run a half marathon without training in under 2 hours. But I paid the price in pain over the following days. And yet I would do it again.

Here we are before the race

Really Sabhumanimamyamagaga?!?

So right now I'm sitting in BKK airport (look up the full name for yourselves, it looks something like the above spelling although I added a few syllables.... but be advised that the pronunciation of the name is nothing like the spelling). I flew in from Chiang Mai. In order to enter the terminal in Chiang Mai, you go through a security screening. Then you have the full screening for regular security. Arriving here in BKK transit passengers are then herded through another full security check before being allowed into the terminal. And now they have a seperate bag inspection - by hand! - at the gate to enter the gate waiting area. Security is important, but this is flat out ridiculous.

The annoyance with this security is compounded by the fact that I had a bottle of water that I brought from within the secure area at the Chiang Mai airport, which of course I had to get rid off. You know how preoccupied I am with dehydration, so I stood at security and chugged the liter, rather than dump it. And within BKK, there is no access to water other than of the environmentally unfriendly and wallet-raping bottled variety. Add that the concessions here are expensive, and it;s not a great transit experience. Also, I walked for an hour to get to my gate, which remains closed 15 minutes before boarding is to start, with something like 50 seats to be split amongst the 200+ passengers; several hundred empty seats languish just beyond a low glass wall.

The Australien ladies next to me are discussing how many cigarettes they can bring back on their return home. This is going to be good.....

East Coast Trip Q1-2010

As some of you may already be aware of, I'm coming to the U.S. during January and February 2010. I will be spending a total of just over 3 weeks in a variety of locations. Currently, I have booked flights into and out of NYC, with definite stops in DC and Florida planned at the moment.
Here's the itinerary:

14 Jan - arrive NYC
15-18 Jan - G-Dub Ultimate alumni weekend, DC
This is where it gets messy: between the 19th and 29th I will be splitting my time between Naples, Florida and anywhere else I am interested in visiting, so I need your help:
Will you be around? Where do you live? Are you saying I should come visit? I'm pretty open to ideas here, and I will be working during normal business hours, so you needn't worry about my visit interfering with your paper making abilities. Please get in touch!
29 Jan-5 Feb - NYC
5 Feb - depart NYC for LON

I look forward to seeing people, let me know if you have any requests from the UK.

What I'm Doing

So I'm kinda, sorta back to traveling. Except of course that I do not select the destination, nor the length of time, as it is in fact my job that has sent me this time. That’s right, a business trip. To Phnom Penh, Cambodia and Chiang Mai, Thailand - try not to gulp all that Haterade at once.

The intent of this trip was for me to a) learn more about microfinance in practice, as it is executed in my employer's first investment, and b) check out/begin our due diligence on a potential investment in Thailand. Total time is 5 weeks, I've got 3 days left before I begin my return journey, a 3 day mega-marathon of flights and layovers that includes stops in Bangkok, Phnom Penh, Seoul and London before getting to Switzerland for a family Christmas including the Chinese Anthropologist, who is coming all the way from her research site in rural Xi'an Province (China's coal district). Looking forward to seeing her, and the rest of the family, very much.

Three months is a long time not to post

Especially as I've promised the occasional readers of this blog - should you guys still be coming back at all - a number of wrap-ups and summaries of things that were going on in my life. This despite my own disappointment that many of my friends who blog have recently dropped their output to near zero, so procrastinating has become just that much harder - and I feel just a little bit more out of touch with my college friends. As for myself, I'll just stop torturing you and say that those posts most likely are not coming. Done and done.

Recently, I've heard of people actually checking ths thing occasionally to find out what's going on with me. That's great news, because it means: I'm not just unnecessarily occupying space in the cloud; this page is being utilized for its purpose. In light of this I will try to go the Calvinball route and deliver shorter updates as opposed to the long tomes I used to post. (Several weeks of editing what grew to be a monster of a healthcare reform write-up could not generate a good post, so I gave up). On the other hand, don't expect me to start tweeting either though.

My First Appearance in a Comic Strip

You want to know how I felt in Dublin during my grad course? Something like this:


But because that'd be just boring, I added some resentment, loneliness, and just a dash of self-loathing to complement the incredibly depressing weather.

On another note, xkcd is awesome. Love that stuff. That's where the above image is from.

Just Now

Like 30 seconds ago.

Me: We may have to decide between Oktoberfest [in Munich] and a soccer game [in Frankfurt].
Ms. P: Oktoberfest is pretty much just drinking and eating, right? You want to do that, you're excited for it?
Me: Have you ever known me not to be excited for eating and drinking?

Highlight of my Weekend

Just wanted to share this short film, courtesy of Kos (of Thundering Herd), that depicts what may or may not have been the highlight of my weekend. Ms. P thinks that it is possibly the lowlight of my life. Since she also happened to call me approximately 4 minutes after I finished, she warned me to expect a heart attack in the next 20 minutes. The heart attack never materialized, but I'm sure my arteries are hard as steel.




Back story:

Several years ago I read about the ten burgers that you have to try before you die (incidentally, they all will contribute to an early death). One of the burgers mentioned utilized Krispy Kreme doughnuts instead of bread buns, and was subsequently tossed in the deep fryer. Not too surprisingly, this is a Southern delicacy, I think it was Mississippi or Arkansas. While I've never been all that keen on having my burger deep fried, I have since that fateful day dreamt of tasting that meaty, glazed delicacy - bacon and cheese included of course. We were having a few pints after Thundering Herd* practice on Saturday, and I mentioned this life goal to J in the context of meals he may miss as he is moving back to the Marshall Islands, where he grew up. This suggestion caught his fancy, and after a few extra pints, Burger Kreme beat out Boudins BBQ as the evening's choice meal. Kos (Kosovo) joined our endeavor. We even bought Justin a bean burger so his vegetarianism wouldn't stand in the way of his quality of life, although he wasn't there when we got back, and the bean burger had disappeared by the time he returned. The rest is, as they say, history. Or EPIC WIN in this case.


* Thundering Herd is one of the top UK mixed teams, and will be playing at next month's European Club Championships in London. Afraid that they might be short on men, they had initially included me in a group of players that might fill in. As it turns out, they will have enough of their regulars for ECC, but as my season has ended I am now training with them for fun. There are also three of my Burro Electrico team mates that play with Herd, as they are known. Fashion Bonus: Herd wear cow-print shorts.

Interlude

Just some interesting reading links:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/12/magazine/12whales-t.html?_r=1&pagewanted=1&em

Fabulously interesting, and just one more reason to go to Mexico.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/19/magazine/19healthcare-t.html?scp=6&sq=peter%20singer&st=cse

I think Peter Singer is an ass, but from time to time he makes a good point. I thoroughly enjoyed this article, and I think we need a better and more open discussion of what health care rationing means, and how our current rationing (based on personal wealth) might be reformed under a new healthcare system. And the argument that you can't put a price on human life is a red herring: when our society denies its poor(er) members access to life saving or at the very least life-enhancing medical care, we are simply saying that the price of human life is equal to that persons net assets plus projected future earnings. Sounds like a price has been set, and for millions of uninsured Americans, that price is far lower than it would be using the NICE metrics.

I'm still on pay-as-you-go, because I simply cannot convince myself that the initial purchase costs and crappy contract are worth owning an iPhone for. Maybe if it ran push-notification for incoming Skype calls and Apple didn't keep applying for new patents suggesting another iphone update, possibly by the end of the year. However, this bad boy I can get excited about: free on a contract, much better contract than the iPhone, free European roaming (at least until the end of September), and supporting video conferencing on the phone, this is basically a mobile computing solution, not just a phone. So I'll probably be buying that in the coming days.

Shocking News about Ernesto Guevara

So you've probably seen that guy before. ....but have you ever heard him speak?

Here's what we know: he was Argentine, from an established porteno family, i.e. a family from Buenos Aires. Spanish speakers will also know that portenos are famous for their distinct accent as well as the many local slang words they use. One of these later became the nickname of the man above, namely "che", a term that's akin to man/dude/bro. Ernesto was given this nickname in Cuba for his frequent use of the word, so clearly distinct from the others around him.

Then, over the past week I've seen the Steven Soderbergh directed Che: Part I and Che: Part II starring Benicio del Toro. These films are neither amazing nor atrocious, I'm glad I saw them but it really didn't add anything to my understanding of the person or politics of Ernesto Guevara. Two aspect were quite commendable though: First, the fact that the films are in Spanish, except where appropriate (although none of the Bolivian indigenous people ever speak indigenous languages, not even amongst themselves - if you've been to Bolivia, you know how ridiculous this oversight is, given that Spanish remains a second language in many of the rural areas even today); Second, the emphasis on Guevara's struggles with his strong asthma, a near-fatal problem on several occasions and source of great anguish to him personally as he felt his body fail him while his will to continue the lucha never waivered*.

However, after watching them and realizing that del Toro won the best actor award at the Cannes Film Festival last year, I was incensed. Why? Well, for one thing the word "che" rarely is used, especially in the second part. Furthermore, although del Toro uses a number of Argentine idioms, he does so without an accent. "Foul!" I cried. "What blatent misrepresentation of a historical character! And whatever happened to the notion that actors ought to be held to standards of authenticity when playing historical figures?" And that is how the idea for this post was born.

However, before I decided to post what I wrote about the issue, I chose to reassure myself that my outrage was justified. He spend good parts of his childhood in the family's summer home in the mountains (because of his asthma), I told myself. Not all of Argentina has a porteno accent. Maybe his mannerisms and idioms were porteno, but his accent wasn't?
First, I turned to fellow study-abroad people. Unanimously, they claimed Guevara as "100% porteno", accent and all. Then I began viewing film and recordings of his public speeches. Lo and behold, I was shocked to find that he didn't have an accent at all! So, I'm glad I didn't make a judgemental ass out of myself by posting false information here. However, all the recordings I found are post-revolutionary, i.e. after he has spend a great deal of time in the Cuban movement, where his national identity was at times a source of conflict, which at least gives rise to the idea that he may have subordinated his accents, much as he did other traits of his identity, to the necessities of the revolutionary cause.

So I'm wondering: does anyone out there knows more about this issue?



* On a related note, while observing street protests in Salta, Argentina, a few years back, I saw a protester hold a sign reading "Ser argentino significa luchar" ["to be Argentine means to struggle"], a wonderful caption for the long-running political struggles btween competing forces within that country: authoritarianism-democracy, conservativism-liberalism, indigenous rights-historical oppression, etc.

The above photograph is taken from the website of the Malta-Cuba Society (http://www.maltacuba.org/links.html)

You Know You're a Procrastinator When....

it's the first day of summer and you're struck by the feeling that it is time to undertake your spring cleaning.

Granted, until very recently I did not have any shelves or anything like that in my room so that all my things had to be in my closet, in boxes piled all over the room, or on the desk. Predictably, the room was a mess when that was the situation, but thanks to my overpriced Ikea shelves, I should be able to do better now. Or is that actually true? Ultimate tournaments the past two weekends (Tour 1 with Burro Electrico and Windmill Windup with Johnny Chimpo) and the extra days I took for the bike ride to Windmill have left me with a very messy room once again.
Below you can see a "before" shot of my room, taken a few minutes ago. Hopefully by tonight I'll be able to post an "after" picture.
UPDATE: I completed the cleaning of my room almost a week ago by spending all Sunday cleaning furiously. I never took a picture, and now it;s somewhat messy again, although multiple vacuums and mopings have left the place much cleaner. As the Brazilian (my brother in law) commented: "I knew you cleaned because when I walked past your room, it smelled clean. You know, different from the rest of the house."
I'll try and pick up, then take the "after" picture this weekend.

Yet another month

Yet another month of what, you ask. Well, failure. Complete and utter failure. At least as far as this blog is concerned, since it has yet again turned into more than a full calendar month between posts. And this despite the fact that I have been steadily gathering material for a number of different posts covering such varied topics as work, ultimate, sports generally and the NBA specifically, group vs. individual dynamics, food, travel and politics. I’ll try and post some more in the coming days, particularly as ultimate is concerned: I’ve got some real highlights of the season coming up, and one of them will most likely be combined with some travel, the other with none. Confused? I’ll explain later.
And for those of you still reading not only this boring blog, but this ultra-boring housekeeping post, let me reward you with a great clip I found while aimlessly stumbling from one part of the interwebs to another:
http://ifuxwitit.blogspot.com/2009/05/watch-this-1981-2020-expose-on-rap.html

End of a (very tall) Era

It's a little bit like looking at a dead deer on the road, isn't it? For those of you who haven't heard the news yet, last night Dikembe Mutombo messed up his knee. Well into his forties at this point, the injury ends his career as he admitted after the game. For anyone in their mid twenties who grew up watching NBA ball, this means an end of an era, as one of the more iconic figures of the past 20 years is lost.

But honestly, I just wanted to post about Mutombo and have been looking for a reason to do so for quite some time (almost did a story on his philanthropic work some time back, but decided against it - but who knowns, maybe in the future). The reason: one of the dopest kicks of all times, the Adidas Dikembe Mutombo sneaker. This was one of the first pairs of basketball sneakers I owned for the purpose of playing ball (I was 9 when they were released), and even after they were replaced on the court I wore them daily until my mother forcibly took them away - by then, they were thoroughly destroyed.
This sneaker is cool for a number of reasons, but most importantly, its coloring and the materials used on the top are all a nod to Mutombo's heritage and youth in his native Congo (or Zaire, as it was known then). It was also really, really, really, warm and padded from what I remember and therfore incredibly comfortable, and I used them as winter boots for a year. Anyway, if you ever see a size 12 of these bad boys for sale or Adidas decides to re-issue them, please think of me and hook it up. Here the bad boys are in living color, so you know I'm telling the truth:

I'll Miss You, Pete

On Saturday the 28th of March, 2009, g-dub teammate and fellow Londonite Peter Hoffman passed away after battling cancer. I know that within the g-dub family, his loss will be felt tremendously.
However, even beyond that tight-knit group, Pete's positive attitude, kindness, and charisma will be remembered by those who met him. Via a couple corners, I know several former ASL students who knew Pete years ago. Mentioning his struggle to them and seeing their reactions, it is clear that the way he lived his life touched those around him even if they did not know him well. He was a young man with a bright future cut short before his promise could mature to fruition.
At this year's Alumni Weekend, we made a video in which people recounted some of their favorite stories with or about "Big Pete"; however, I cannot think of a single event that really captures the complexity of who he was. But looking at the picture above gives a good idea of him and one of his most memorable characteristics - his smile.
Those of you who have spoken to me about my move know that one of the things I was really looking forward to in London was the opportunity to spend more time with Pete. Sadly, this is something we all will now have to do without. All we can do now is live life to the fullest, as Pete did.