Ready to Rock

In the "biz" (showbiz, people - that's showbiz talk for..well, showbiz), there is different phraseology for simple, every day subjects, acts, and objects, no matter how extreme or mundane. Examples:

• "Confab": Meeting

• "Green lit": Approved

• "This show has legs": The show has potential

• "Showrunner": Executive producer

• "Ankle": Leave

But my favorite of these (ultimately douchey-sounding) terminologies is "in the can", mostly because I giggle like a wrinkly old man when it's uttered.


"Tee-hee! It could mean something dirty! But not dirty like what I just left in my underpants."

This is in reference to a single take that the director likes, or that a show/film is completed and ready to roll onto the large or larger screen (let's face it: With plasma screens in our homes, there are no small screens these days).

Welp, I am proud to announce that the running-based-podcast I've been working on alongside dear pals Gary and Carl The Mailman (hereafter referred to as such) are nearly ready to roll out. More teasers:

1. We have a personally written, and simply awesome, theme song.

2. We have - in our opinions - quite the clever name for said podcast.

3. Our microphones are taped to 18" long pieces of PVC which are in turn taped to camera tripods, except for Carl's, as he's running the sound board and computer. He looks all professional and grown-up.

4. The sound quality is spot-on.

5. Lastly, we are fucking hilarious. At least to each other.

The website will "go live" soon, as we will have enough episodes "in the can" (tee hee!) to launch in the coming few weeks. In fact, Annie's on the sofa at this very moment making the site look all perty.

So soon, VERY soon, you'll be able to download our yapping, stick it on your iPod or MP3 player, and zone out to the HILARITY that is our podcast during your long runs, while taking Fido out for a stroll, or when you just can't stand the dialogue of "Jersey Shore" any longer.

The Off Season

As I sit here at noon, still in my pajama bottoms and sweatshirt (hey, I work nights, okay?), sipping my second cuppa joe, I am - for the first time - actually soaking in "the off season". And I'm loving it.

After a long spring and summer of training, my mileage will typically dip to around 45 miles per week, having topped off around 75 in July/August. I'll find myself with extra time on my hands and a lot more energy.

This is my body's time to repair and recover.

Normally, I'd be in a state of panic over this. "What if I lose conditioning?!?! What if I gain a few pounds?!?! What if, GOD FORBID, I WIND UP DOING THINGS OTHER THAN TRAINING?!?!?!"



Preach it to me, Doug

Life is about balance: Put too much energy into one aspect and the other pieces atrophy and wilt. We do it every day: Too much time at work, too much time studying, too much energy wasted on worry, one day too much of focusing solely on your family and then you wind up yelling at them to eat your f*cking french fries!!!! (starting at 6:25 - and TOTALLY offensive but hilarious).

Looking forward to an off season of restin' and exploration. Hope y'all get to take some time off too!

Welcome to: The future. No, wait, now it's the present. Damn.

"Cease to inquire what the future has in store, and take as a gift whatever the day brings forth."

- Horace


“I like men who have a future and women who have a past”

- Oscar Wild

It's rather an abstract thing, the future. We imagine it time and time again, and rarely - if ever - does it look or feel anything like what we dreamed up. Example: I recall a 5 mile run one morning in Los Angeles, along the singletrack trails in Elysian Park, hovering about 100 feet above the 5 Interstate Freeway, when Annie and I just found out her job was allowing us move to Portland.

As I scrambled along - filled with soaring joy and utter terror - images of what our future held began to flash: Possible friends without faces, jobs without locations, "whos, whats and whens" all flashing in my mind's eye. But never, ever could I have imagined the reality of what is now the present; with all of it's wonderment and constantly shifting strangeness.

So now, I have completely embarked on a new leg of this journey, starting with this here blog, and the (STILL AWAITING THE CONCLUSION TO, RUSS!) Western States piece I've recorded and am now editing. The next step: An ultra podcast, co-hosted with my buddy Gary and recorded/engineered by my dear friend, Carl (hereafter referred to as "Carl The Mailman, or "CTM").

I'm usually an overly-cautious creative guy (ask me about the 8 years it took to write a novel, or the collection of short stories that I've been threatening to self-publish for 6 years), but I figured, sometimes, you've just got to say "what the fuck."



"Remember that quote, from the movie I was in before I attacked Oprah on her couch?"

CTM and I headed downtown yesterday to check out mixing boards and scored one for hella cheap (kids' talk for "incredibly inexpensive"), and Monday evening, CTM on the board, Gary and I will lay down our first of - hopefully many - podcasts on ultra running.

I'm leaking this info to titillate my small pool of ultra running readers. I'm not certain of a launch date, but I know it's just around the bend, an arm's length into the future.

I'm not sure where this might lead me, but I know it's a half mile in the right direction. That's the best part about the future: It's up to us to form it.