RandomFailure

I run enough to maintain something of a shape (I know round is a shape), so I indulge my sweet tooth every once in a while. I had been craving a milkshake for a few days, and today was warm enough to justify it. Plus, I did run this morning. I stopped at the nearby Ben & Jerry’s scoop shop for a milkshake. The only flavor that they had that seemed reasonable enough for a milkshake was a sugar-free (but with Splenda) vanilla fudge chip, or something like that. The other stuff would have been way too chunky to drink through a straw. It was decent, despite being sugar-free.

But that damn Splenda really got to me this afternoon. Let’s just leave it at being around me hasn’t been too pleasant. I did a little searching, and it turns out that Splenda has some nasty side effects. See Splenda Side Effects, Dangers of Splenda #1, and Dangers of Splenda #2. I know I won’t be having it again.

An article in today’s Inquirer about direct wine shipments got me thinking: when the hell are they going to get around to doing this? Then I realized that I live in PA, the ass-backwards state when it comes to alcohol regulation. We still have an out-dated state system, in which you can buy beer by the case from certain distributors, maybe a six pack from some smaller outlets, and wine & hard stuff from the state stores. Throw in an 18% Johnstown flood tax - the big flood was 119 years ago; the tax added after a 1936 flood (see the Johnstown Flood Museum, a Wikipedia article, the National Park Service site, and a story on the tax itself) - and you wind up with an often over-priced lame-assed selection. The argument that PA is the largest alcohol buyer in the country really doesn’t help with a poor selection. While some state stores have respectable wine sections, I should still be able to order directly from an out of state winery of my choosing.

Repealing the tax is unlikely, due to greedy and unimaginitive legislators, who can’t find another way to make up the revenue. And permitting direct shipping is also unlikely - too many “interested parties” wouldn’t get their drink at the trough (the pun is accidental, but apropos). But they won’t tell you that they’re upset about not getting their money; they will couch it in terms of avoiding having alcohol be delivered directly to minors. This is really a bullshit argument, since what teenager is going to wait for weeks to get wine delivered when they can use a fake ID or have someone buy beer for them?

My office is located next to the sales office for the condo 10 Rittenhouse here in Philly. They’ve started building it, but haven’t sold all of the units yet. So they’re amping up the sales pitches, including throwing preview parties (or something like that) in their office. Though I suspect they may be getting a little desperate. At tonight’s event and the most recent event, they’ve added a few reception hotties to the mix. I haven’t seen these women in the hallway or around the office before, so I assume that they’ve been imported for the occasion.

Just goes to show you: it doesn’t matter what you sell, but sex still sells it.

As for the title of this post (stolen from The Man Show), that could be the next step if they need to sell more condos. Impractical with a 10 foot ceiling, but what the hell.

Time for another Broad Street Run LBRR (that’s long boring race report for the uninitiated). This is my 9th consecutive BSR, so you’d figure that I would pretty much have all the kinks worked out of any training plan and getting to the start. Well, you’d be wrong. My training wasn’t anywhere near where it should have been. I knew that I could run the 10 miles - that wouldn’t be a problem. The question was: how well could I do? I wasn’t expecting a PR (like last year) or even close. Too much else going on (like baby Caroline and an insane work load of late) to train as much as I would have liked. Plus, this was going to be my first race in 6 months. That was due to some scheduling “errors” on my part where other things were scheduled for days when I could have raced. Oh well…

Since it would have been impossible for Karen and I to coordinate getting Daisy up, out, and fed and get Caroline up, dressed, and fed before I would need to leave to be at the subway stop, I opted to take a bus. Luckily for me, I live close to a stop on the 29 route, and saw a bus that would get me to the station about 3 minutes before the train arrived. The bus was late - not good. But since it was just before 7:00 on a Sunday morning, we made up the time. I zipped across the street and down into the station. I heard a train coming. From the station entrance, you’re one level above where the trains are, so it’s hard to tell if it’s a northbound or southbound train. I ran for the turnstile anyway, just buzzed through (free ride up to the start), and got halfway down the stairs when I heard “Doors closing”. Oh, crap. I was about 3/4 the way down the stairs when I could see that the doors were closed and that there were plenty of seats on the train. Damn thing was early! Two Express trains and 15 minutes go by before the next local. Luckily, there are seats. I honestly don’t recall if I’ve ever sat on the subway on the way to the start.

Pre-race routines get difficult to do when there’s supposed to be around 22,000 people. Not enough room to do a decent warm-up run and find a place to stretch without banging into people and/or getting stepped on.

I hate waiting until the last minute to get into position to start, so I moseyed up about 8:15. Still no start corrals, a problem that should be solved for next year. At least, that’s what the race director said during the pre-race announcements.

Gun goes off, and we’re under way. Mile 1 in a brisk (for me) 6:22; took about 28 seconds to cross the start line. Funny thing is that this pace does not feel too fast for me. Mile 2 goes by in 6:24. Again, this doesn’t feel too fast.

An aside (I gotta figure out how to do an in-post sidebar): It’s somewhere around here where I start having to deal with “asshole runner” syndrome. Must be a consequence of the race growing, but there’s a decided lack of proper race etiquette. At least two different people pass me on the left (right next to me) and without even looking, begin sliding over to the right, to get in front of me. There’s plenty of room, and no need for this. One a-hole almost trips me by getting under my feet. Unbelievable! Later on, some ya-yo takes his half-full water cup and throws it right at my feet. “Thanks!” I say, loud enough for him to hear. I got a mumbled “Sorry” back. It’s not like we’re fighting for prizes or anything where I run in the pack. This behavior is nuts. How frickin’ difficult is it for you to look around you before you do something!?! Especially when you know there are that many people?!? Mini-rant over.

Mile 3 is in 6:34. I can begin to feel the effects of the fast first two miles. Mile 4 in 6:46. This is not good. Not only am I slowing down, but I’m slowing down a lot and I can notice it. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Mile 5 in 6:51. Mile 6 also in 6:51. Hmm.. maybe the slowing has stabilized. I’m still a bit fatigued. Enough so that I can’t even muster the strength to look for Governor Rendell and yell my displeasure about dropping a casino 500 feet from my front door. Though with my luck, I would have said something and his security detail would have tackled me in the middle of the street.

Mile 7 in 7:01. For some reason, I think I’ve passed Mile 8 already. I’m getting a bit delirious (not Eddie Murphy Delirious, the bad kind). Mile 8 is in 7:04. This is getting worse than I thought. The people who I held roughly in view for the last few miles are fading out of sight ahead. Mile 9 in 7:10, Mile 10 in 7:11-ish (I hit the watch a bit after I cross the line in an attempt at a nice finish picture for a change) for a finish time of 1:08:14.

Not my best, but not my worst either. I’m OK with the time, just not the way I went about getting it. I would have been happier with a more consistent run. And definitely not blowing up that badly. A 50 second difference from first mile to last is a bit much. But that goes back to the lack of training in general and speed/pace work in particular. Good news is that there’s five months to PDR.

Only really because I can get 3rd place in the office pool. After 5 years, it’s about time I won something! Plus, as a bonus, I really can’t stand Memphis, Calipari in particular. Why? I don’t have a good explanation. It’s not quite John Chaney-level hate, but close.

Once again, the PA Supreme Court shows why judges should be appointed and not elected. Once again, they have supported the casinos in their efforts to ram gambling down our throats. See the opinion (a PDF).

My “favorite” portion is: “On May 30, 2007, after PEDP spent months working with the City to craft a plan of development that addressed issues of concern to the City and to residents living near the Foxwoods site …” Silly me, I must not have been informed about those meetings. Living about 500 feet from where Foxwoods wants to go, I’m a bit interested. But, wait. The meetings were with the hopelessly corrupt but never indicted Street administration. Never mind.

This is not over.

Normally, I’m perfectly OK with the occasional corny April Fools’ joke, prank, etc. It’s to be expected. Though I do expect some originality/creativity. At least I’ll give credit for a good attempt, but weak execution. I came across the lamest attempt at humor today, via CNET (not exactly known as a bastion of mirth). Not only did this “farce” suck, they had to include a disclaimer at the bottom (”Editor’s note: Remember, today is April 1, a day reserved in the U.S. for some levity.“; their emphasis and link.) You know, it’s not really a joke if you have to explain it.

Yet again, I fail to win the office pool. But, I can finish second if Kansas beats UCLA for the title. Not bad, since I was tied for 36th place after the first two rounds. The guy who was leading can finish no better than 14th or something like that. Though I continue to believe that the most points are really gained in a pool like this in the first and second rounds. In the later rounds, more often than not, logic takes over and the Cinderellas wind up going home.

This year is rather unique in that it’s the first time since the field expanded to 64 teams (1985) that all four #1 seeds have made it to the Final Four. Kind of shocking really.

And as a total non-sequitur to close this out, it is insanely difficult to type this while holding Caroline. One-handed typing is definitely not my thing.

After Duke’s lackluster loss to West Virginia in the NCAA tournament, I could only think of one thing: where’s the enthusiasm from the coaches? Coach K is normally fairly calm on the sidelines, but can blow a gasket on purpose when needed to spark the team. That spark was sorely lacking. And it’s a disturbing trend over the last few seasons - just not enough emotion from the bench.

Credit to West Virginia for a game well-played, though Duke should have lost to Belmont (another uninspired performance). What almost happened against Belmont was what happened last year against VCU - throw a few very fast players on the court and watch Duke try to keep up. That’s simply from a lack of many fast players (one or two won’t beat four).

Plus, West Virginia highlighted the common Duke problems from the past few seasons:

1. Live by the three, die by the three. When the shots aren’t falling, the points aren’t there, period.
2. Lack of a solid big man and no depth in the post. Zoubek may not have been at 100%, but even if he was, that wouldn’t have been enough. That led to WV’s 2:1 rebounding edge. That’s embarrassing.
3. Not having anyone who wants to take charge of the game. Everyone seemed very content to let someone else shoot. And then not follow a shot for a rebound, instead scattering like cockroaches away from the rim assuming that the shot would go in.
4. Paulus’ inability or lack of authority to run the offense without having to get every play from the bench. His looking for instructions during the Belmont game led to an easy steal.

Now, let’s not confuse things. I really don’t have a problem with Duke losing a game or two (or more), as long as the effort is there from all facets of the game. A simple fact is that some games, the other guys may just be better or playing better that day or (sinfully) want to win more.

I was thinking while in the shower this morning (and oddity in and of itself) that with the Hollywood writers’ strike now over, there might be some reduction in the number of reality shows. Which, as you might guess, is a good thing. An aside: There was a print ad a few years ago for a beer (I forget which watered-down swill) that had the line “Let’s get back to fake TV and real breasts.” Or something like that.

Anyway… I was thinking that maybe some reality shows needed to be combined to cut down the total number and shake things up a bit. I just thought of a few:

• Gene Simmons Rock of Love Intervention: Gene Simmons prevents women from dating Bret Michaels. Let’s face it: he’s washed up and needs a career boost. Gene would be doing them a favor. Or maybe just doing them.
• Scott Baio is 46 and in Celebrity Rehab: Might actually need a career jolt more than Bret Michaels.
• The Biggest Dancing with the Loser Stars: The weight loss phenomenon goes dancing! Millions of saps will watch until they see the horror of the Michael Moore wardrobe malfunction. Hosted by Oprah!