R.I.P. Professor Dunn

I just received a link from an undergraduate friend. Apparently one of my favorite professors passed away this February.

An engaging and humorous teacher, Professor Dunn was also one of the most challenging. He didn't mess around, he didn't tolerate distraction, and he demanded punctuality, attention, focus, and complete mastery of the material he taught. At the same time, he would give a real-world anecdote to almost every important concept, often drawn from the more odd and funny things out there, including his own student days (when it seemed he learned how to have a pretty good time, and spent a lot of time and money on beer). He also had this smirk on his face much of the time (especially outside of class) that was pretty funny in and of itself. You can sort of see it in the photograph in the linked articles.

A hard grader, it was often said that you would receive a D for Dunn in his classes. However, his demanding style pushed me more than most at the university, and as a result I always got good grades, but more importantly learned a lot. My father sat in on one of Dunn's lectures when he came to visit me early in my freshman year. He was really impressed, and that experience probably went a long way towards his willingness to foot that ridiculous GW tuition in semester after semester where all I seemed to do was play ultimate. I've often told people that the education you get at GW is as good as you want it to be, but you have to seek out the good professors who will push you. Dunn was one of those professors, and made a big difference in my college experience. Somewhat belatedly, thank you.

Rest in Peace, Professor Dunn.

Quick Photojournal from Buxy




David mowing the lawn

I- regent of the land - do some gardening with my entourage - the bravest prince in all the land (Claire).

Time for a mid day nap in the blanket fort.

Gudrun makes egg pancakes for dinner with a little "help" from her daughters.

Claire showing off the paper show she made me.

My grandmother, and the "little cousins"

For those who have trouble growing facial hair

Here are some customizable solutions:

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In other news, I'm off on vacation tomorrow. A week in France: visiting the cousin and her daughters, then canoeing the Ardeche with some Good Lord! teammates, and finally competing in Grenoble with Good Lord! And by competing, I mean hanging on the sidelines sans alcohol, because I'm injured and can't drink with the meds. Maybe I'll even have time to squeeze in some writing and finish the WUCC series, but I wouldn't count on it.

Day 3 - Tuesday, July 6th

All games after 12 pm canceled due to lightning, then water logged fields. Rescheduled for tomorrow, playing 3 games. This is very disappointing because of instead f playing in a 30,000+ football (soccer) stadium, we will now be playing on the worst fields in the tournament. Although those fields are still quite good, I wanted the big field, the stands - even if empty - and my name on the scoreboard after I catch the score. I know it's vain and selfish, but it makes me dream of a day when this sport is hugely popular and games do occur in hug stadia. I won't be playing anymore when that happens, but just once I wanted that feeling....
Other than not playing, I splashed out on a ton of gear at the 5 ultimate tent today. Not all that fiscally responsible, but the stuff feels amazing. Later I watched the Clapham (UK) vs Nomadic Tribe (JAPAN) showcase game, officiated the Dublin 100-meter sprint at halftime (they were all wearing proper trousers, blue collared shirts, and ties) which was globally viewable via a web stream, and received a text from Kat Smale (hi Kat!) in the UK after she saw me on the stream.

Alex Ong made an incredible stir fry for dinner. My stir fries are pretty good, but after tasting that, maybe I should just retire from making them.

Off to bed now, three important games tomorrow!

First Set of Pictures from WUCC 2010

Lily (ICENI), Jon Cater, Charlie and Alex Meixner (HERD) on the plane. Go Wizz Air (I swear I'm not ting the piss)

Oh, look, Nice Phil (CLAPHAM) is here too!

Late night arrival at the hostel, where discussion about fields ensues with Fergus Weldon and Gash (both CLAPHAM), among others

The first thing we do in the apartments is get our player pack.... and start throwing around the mini disc in it.

That's Herdcore, Kos!

Germany game on the big screen on the Old Town Square

Germany wins!

Misha's all kit'ed up now in the double XL cowprint

Opening ceremony - weird but the guy doing handstands was impressive

About half the crowd - there are 3600+ players and staff at WUCC 2010

Max Woolf (QUIET COYOTE) shows off the corn

Now Spears is doin' it in the Herdchendise

Day Two - Monday, July 5th

After a night in which we had a thunderstorm that made me think a building nearby had exploded and correspondingly bad sleep, we breakfasted and made our way up the athletic complex for a game against a Zagreb team. Not too much to say since they were bottom of the pool, and we knew we needed to win both games of the day in order to advance into the top 20 and power pools for the rest of the tournament. We came out hard, played crisp offense and hard man D, leading to a 9-1 score at half. We then stayed strong and focused in the second half, although they were able to hit a couple of their deep shots, and finished the game out 17-5.
After ultimate games they do this thing named "The Call", where both teams stand in a big circle, ideally interspersed so no one adjoins a team mate, with arms slung over each others' shoulders. Each team then has one player speak (normally the captain) about the game. It's often gratuitously complimentary, but it helps keep the Spirit alive because you know that after a game you can't walk away from the opposition, but rather will still be engaging with them. Yeah, this is a hippie sport at heart, even though it is athletic and competitive on the field. The Zagreb captain gave the most excited and positive call I've ever witnessed. It was pretty awesome, and it showed through how, although their young team is being destroyed each and every game, for them it is an incredible opportunity to learn and be inspired. Also, the spirit of the game was incredible, everyone so positive and any potentially contentious situation resolved quickly, with lots of smiling, hand shakes and hugs. A really fun game to be part of.
Getting off the field early and putting in some time in the shade while refueling our bodies was appreciated for our showdown with CUSB, the Italian champs out of Bologna. For both teams, it was win and move into the top 24, lose and you've missed out on an amazing opportunity to play some of the world's top teams and grab some bragging rights and glory for your team.
Unfortunately, the showdown ended in a disappointing loss, and we are now in the bottom bracket. We came out extremely anxious and jittery, not looking like our normal selves on offense and taking a long time to adjust to their long game on D. I definitely was one of the main culprits in that respect, being so hungry for a layout D on an under cut that I gave up multiple long cuts that ended in scores to for them. However, these Worlds games are long, the weather hot, and you're never done until the last score is caught. Down 9-4 at half, then 10-5, we fought back to 16-15, disc on their goal line but unable to convert. Final score of 18-16, I think.
I really picked my game up in the second half, denying cuts, dumps and long throws while getting a few Ds, too. It all started when I was fouled going for a catch in the endzone, was fouled in blatant manner, but he then contested the foul (their team is known for poor spirit, but this was far from the worst game I've had against them in that respect). Alex Ong stepped up with some massive layout Ds and Alex Meixner had a HUGE layout score - her first true layout! Congrats Alex. Riley was all over, and was awarded MVP (a big mortadella) in this game. Harry is laying out like a madman, and his body looks the bit, he can no longer yell or laugh because it causes the wounds on his hips to re-tear, which is extremely painful. It hurt to lose this game, because although we are the better team (says Ben Spears, see next paragraph), we were unable to make that count. They came away with the shots they needed and we couldn't take advantage of the fact that they didn't have many quality subs. I think anyone who's played with me in big tournaments knows how much I hate losing, and how personally I take it, and this really hurt. I also threw what became our last pass of the game, where a defender saw what was happening and came off his man to jump in front of Amy Bartlett and got the D. I sometimes worry that I've developed the EVL syndrome, an affliction that a lot of us from GW are affected by - I think that throw from regionals 03 will always be in the back of my mind on those big points. The Rook was saying the same thing.
During the first half of the CUSB game, two of my g-dub (GW) team mates came to watch. Big thank you to Ben Spears and Tom Manowitz (The Rook!) for being an awesome sideline with quality banter and heckling. It's amazing to see that g-dub has sent multiple players from the same generation to this tournament, and apparently Faust turned down an invite to play with Boston's Ironside. Great to come from a program that churns out quality player after quality player and where we stay friends after we leave school and come out to support each other at these events, although Regionals are the ultimate proof of this as alumni come from around the country to see the team play every spring.
On a personal level, I saw myself as the inofficial Mr. Irrelevant of this tournament coming into it: last roster spot on the last team offered a spot. I've since heard a few other teams were given their spots even later, but more importantly, I belong here. The way I'm playing, I no longer I have any doubts about whether I deserve to play at this level. I speak enough languages that I can hear the other teams warning their players when I mark them, and conversely telling defenders that they have to stay on their toes when I'm on O. I was voted MVP of the Iku (Japan) game, and players are looking to trade arm bands with me, which I think is a big sign of respect. I've had three turnovers all tournament. It's inspiring, because I know I'm still ascending, far from peaking after the years I didn't play. I need to start hitting the gym to increase the distance on my flick, adding vertical leap - I want to go back to dunking basketballs - and becoming a lock-down defender whose player never even gets thrown to because there are no openings. I know it's not nice, but I stuck the game disc from the CUSB game into my bag: once it's on the wall of my room, it will be a daily inspiration to work as hard as I can and come back in 4 years as a better, stronger, faster player than I am today.

On a last note, thank you to those of you who have written me emails and/or are following the games and stats on the WUCC website. The stat keeping isn't perfect - they've missed some of my assists, for instance. But it's awesome to know you're "watching" from afar, and I'll continue to do my best to give you something to cheer for.

Sunday July 4 – First Day of games

I could barely sleep last night, I was so nervous and excited for today to come. Finally, after months of working myself as hard as possible in sprint sessions, endurance runs before work, and daily strength exercises just t be considered for the team, no to mention what I’ve done since my selection, the day had finally arrive. We had our first game at 8.30, which meant a 7.30 start to warm ups on the field. And yes, that meant I was sweating hard and putting in serious effort well before the time I usually show up to work.

The first team was against Iku, the Japanese mixed champions. We played a fantastic game, with momentum swings back and forth. At one point we were even up a break, but unfortunately we were unable to keep our foot on the pedal, and ended up losing 17-13. Although a respectable score, we had drawn first blood and knew we could beat our seeding (28^th), with top 20 being a highly realistic goal.

I myself played very well in this game, being awarded the MVP by our opponents and scoring a sweet hat for that. I’ll post a pics when I have the opportunity. My D was strong, and I was turnover free for the game – a rarity for me, but something I’ve consciously been working on.

In our second game we matched up against Quiet Coyote out of Boston. This team features a good friend of mine whom I have known since my sophomore year of college, Misha Horowitz. If you had told me the day we met that we’d someday be facing each other at Worlds, I would have laughed in your face, so preposterous the idea was at the time. But today it became reality, and the surreal feeling that had surrounded this matchup since I saw it on the schedule was lifted when we slapped hands on the field. Misha and I have always matched up well, and today was no exception: we battled back and forth, each knowing the other’s moves all too well, which meant we both had to work hard to get what we wanted on the field. It was awesome. I wa also glad to see that after all his injury problems, Misha looks lean and fit, and he certainly proved that it is more than looks on the field. I don’t think he’s been this fast and nimble since he started getting injured, and he confirmed what I saw: he feels great and ready to play at this level. So good to see a friend get back on track like that.

Ultimately, we ended up losing to QC by a final score of 17-10, which I think was fair. Herd kept building throughout, as evidenced by the fact that they took half 9-3 but we went back and forth with them in the second half, each team delivering runs to keep the game exciting. Following the games, I gave Misha the full Thundering Herd kit I’d bought him, including the highly coveted cow print shorts – we’ve been receiving offers left and right for those things.

I finished out the day by drinking beer and having fun with QC, who hooked me up with a fitted hat, first in the Strahov stadium – HUGE – and then at the show game before returning to the flats for Si’s amazing spaghetti Bolognese. A solid start into Worlds, and we move on to Monday with the expectation of winning both games, against Zagreb and Bologna (CUSB) and moving up. I’ll start the day by watching Ben Spears and Chain, which is great. It’s amazing how many friends and acquaintances I have here! Max Woolf is playing on QC, also, and I ran into The Rook a.k.a. Tom Manowitz, who’s here with the Melbourne, Australia, team Redbacks that also features Herd 2 team mate Glenn Monauer.

I’ll keep you updated.

Today Our Thought Go Out to You

I only heard about the massive quake in Haiti today, due to differences in the news cycle in the UK and my travel to the US yesterday. Speaking with the Jewish Palestinian today, I found him as stressed/distressed as usual, but for an entirely different reason. His flat mate and friend Greg, who studies African diaspora populations in the Americas for his Ph.D. is off the radar in Haiti. He was down there for research, and no one has heard from him since the quake, no one even knows where he was prior to the quake, whether in Port-au-Prince or the countryside.

Not that I know him all that well, but from my interactions with him I think Greg is a great guy, fantastic cook, and all-round first class act. As I told the Jewish Palestinian, Greg is probably on the front lines trying to help people, not thinking of whether his friends and family in the States are worrying about him. Here's hoping that that is the case, and he can access food and water while he assists other.

Our best wishes are with you Greg.

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.....