The Pain Train

This week has been tough at work. My supervisor is on vacation, so that requires me to field an awful lot of questions from the other engineers in our group. I basically just try to keep the wheels spinning until the boss gets back, which is very different from actually being in charge.
While the long days have been tough, they have not been nearly so painful as Sunday's second annual (for me) running of the Tarzan Brown Mystic River Run. The weather was gorgeous, and Wifey and Sweetness accompanied me to the starting area to cheer for me at both ends of the race. I even knew a few people who were running as well. Talking while running is not the most efficient way to conduct oneself during a race, but those who know me know that I have been blessed with the gift of gab, so I chat with those I recognize. And a few I don't.
After a gradual start, I picked up the pace a bit to keep stride with my coworker Nick. At mile 1 I heard the watch holder call 7 minutes, which was not bad. After 3 miles I was around 20 minutes 30 seconds, which was even better and made me realize I should coast for a little bit. Sure enough, after cruising to mile 5 I heard that watch holder call just shy of 35 minutes. That was good, because my goal was to beat 40 minutes (7:14/mile pace). It was also a bit agonizing, because I was starting to feel bad. Actually, awful. Actually, thinking death might be a sweet release. I mean, I'm kind of a tractor when it comes to running, a big load, full diesel, pouring out black smoke on the hills, all that jazz. Nonetheless, as I approached the last corner, there was a small group of runners about 20 yards ahead that I just knew I could pass. So I poured it on, black smoke and all, and ripped right by them! No joke, they were actually cursing me as I went by. And then... I realized it wasn't the last corner, and I had about 3 blocks to go. I did make it to the finish line, but my mis-estimation was written all over my face in discomfort, according to Wifey. It was great to see her and Sweetness waving and cheering, but I needed a minute to regain my strength and focus on not puking and stuff.
After that passed I was able to enjoy the fact that I beat my goal. Five and a half miles in 37 minutes, 24 seconds, for a 6:48/mile pace. Huzzah! I've never beaten 7:00 in a race before, so that was nice. Strangely, having handily beaten the goal I set for myself, and facing long hours this week at work, I have not so much as put running shoes on my feet in preparation of next week's EBAC Fall Challenge. I figure my body needs the rest, and let the 4.75 mile chips fall where they may.

Vote John McClane

Wait, you mean streetwise cop John McClane is not the Republican candidate for president? This is a bit of a disappointment. I mean, who wouldn't want a president who had single handedly put the blunt object of justice upside the head of international crime on multiple occasions? Nonetheless, I will go to the polls tomorrow morning and cast my vote for another high profile Irishman, John McCain. I admit that he is an underwhelming candidate, and is not likely to be victorious. However, he is far preferable to Barack Obama, a windbag with little substance and a viciously liberal candidate. Abortion is important to me, as is defense, and I see little merit for Obama on either topic. Along with what will likely be two compliant houses of legislature, I fear the results by the time we reach 2012.
However you feel, GO AND VOTE! I certainly don't know everybody who reads this blog, I don't even have any idea how many people check it out. I can say with certainty, though, that every one of you has complained about the state of our nation, or even the American state that you live in. If are over 18 years of age and you don't vote tomorrow, then consider that you have no right whatsoever to complain about our leadership, no matter how vile of an act those leaders may perpetrate. The Founding Fathers would have disagreed with many of the cogs of government that have been added in the last 230 years, but they would still, to a man, insist that the populace must vote for our representative republic to thrive.
Get on it!

A'Maize & Blue

On October 18, I had the fantastic opportunity to watch some Big Ten (11) college football in State College, PA. For this year only, the Penn State football stadium is the largest in the nation, with a capacity over 110,000. After this season, the University of Michigan's home field will be restored to its usual place as America's largest football stadium. Which is coincidental, because the reason I put special emphasis on this particular game is that Penn State was hosting Michigan. To those who are not familiar, Michigan is in the middle of the most precipitous drop in prestige of any college football program in the 25 years that I have been watching the sport. This is at the hands of the slimy new coach, Rich (C'mon & get ethical, ethical!) Rodriguez. Nonetheless, you don't just bail on your team because of the coach. Disclaimer: I do also cheer for Michigan State, but when UM and MSU meet I root for the Wolverines. On the drive to the game, we saw an early morning hot air balloon.

There were, ummm, how do you say, a LOT of people there. This is the pregame student section, all in white.

Let us not forget a fundamental point: F-18 Hornets are always cool.

The band and cheerleaders flanked the Nittany Lions' route onto the field, lest they get confused and wander.

Michigan promptly located Penn State's ass and commenced kicking it. Driving in for an early touchdown.

YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT!

Michigan ran off to a 17-7 lead and was up 17-14 at halftime. Joe, who graciously provided my ticket and was a kicker for Penn State, felt like this:

All of Penn State's fans were terrified of Michigan. Despite UM's poor record, they have always had Penn State's number, so the PSU fans were like an already kicked puppy. I lived up the first half while I could, knowing that Michigan's control of the game was likely to fade. In fact, while cheering loudly and putting an entire section of PSU fans through agony, I was acknowledging the whole time that Michigan was not likely to hold up. Therefore, I didn't get it too bad from the fans around me when the tables turned. Penn State won soundly by the end of the game. What a show, either way!

Free Association Friday

• I was in a meeting where a well-meaning engineer used the words "erroneous modes". I felt a little bit naughty.
• (OK, so the phrase really just refers to a computer model falsely showing how a part bends under loading, which I am well aware of... stop judging me!)
• At work, I also saw a recently made presentation advertising the construction of the Astute Class submarines in the U.K. It featured this little computer image of a guy in coveralls and a hard hat strutting his way through the gigantic hangar containing the shipbuilding ways while (no joke) 1000 ton hull cylinders zip by at about 50 m.p.h. as a nuclear submarine is constructed in fast-forward. It was OK, as far as these things go. The coup de grace, though, was the fact that Hall and Oates's Maneater was the soundtrack. And you thought early '80's music was dead! The best part is imagining the this-is-so-HOT smirk of the guy dubbing the soundtrack in.
• I'm preparing for the annual 5.5 mile run, which is fast approaching at Nov. 2. I clocked in around 7min. 45 sec. a mile for about 5 miles this morning in a practice trial, which I feel good about since it was 6:00 A.M., cold, and dark. And part of it is up a hill I like to call "El Capitan".
• Bravo to the Detroit Lions for getting a dime on the nickel for offloading a disgruntled Roy Williams for 3 draft picks next year. Apparently Matt Millen really is gone.
• Me: "Sweetness, you are the most beautiful girl in God's creation." Sweetness: "Daddy, you smell like coleslaw."
• Wifey prepared steak, squash w/ brown sugar & honey, coleslaw (see above bullet), sauteed onions/mushrooms, and battered fried onions that were 100% awesome for dinner tonight.
• Oh, how my co-workers howled when I shifted 1/4 of my 401(k) portfolio to fixed income about a year ago. At least something I have is still making money.

...and They Cry Themselves To Sleep

As one of the only experienced engineers left in our group, I am tasked with checking a lot of calculations completed by the other engineers. Their work ranges from respectable to awful, but each man gets better with each attempt. I am known for being excruciatingly thorough and rather glib in my written comments against these calculations. My "to the point" can be taken by those whose work is being evaluated as "blackest evil". Two engineers in our group were discussing this with me recently along with the whole idea of what it means to reach the point of having learned to be an engineer. One said to the other "you haven't become an engineer until you've had Stew check one of you calculations... and you cried yourself to sleep every night for weeks." So true! It's unpleasant to have every last aspect of something you've done overturned and scrutinized, every assumption questioned and probed for accuracy. I've endured the process myself and continue to each time I submit my own work to superiors. And this is strictly applied to work and engineering analysis. So much more so when we are forced to actually examine ourselves and question our own actions and motives in things that truly matter, like marriage and parenting and faith.
I was planning on writing the paragraph above for a few days before I finally got around to it today. Prior to that, I came into work this morning to discover this fictional "to-do" item on a sticky note left at the desk of an engineer whose calculation I am currently checking. I love it.

What Will They Think Of Next?

I recently opened the refrigerator to discover Heaven In A Bucket. OK, first I owe a clarification regarding the word "discover", as Wifey had already informed me that Heaven In A Bucket was in the refrigerator and I promptly forgot, so perhaps "rediscover" is a more appropriate term. Heaven In A Bucket refers to 5 lbs, 4 ozs of Pillsbury chocolate chip cookie dough in a single bucket. This is sufficient cookie dough to reach an apocalyptic critical mass of eating-straight-from-the-bucket-until-you-see-bare-plastic-at-the-bottom-and-hate-yourself. As I said, Heaven In A Bucket. I Tell You What, cookie dough ought to be considered a meal in and of itself. Pillsbury is really overachieving with this offering, I'm talking on the order of Nobel Prize overachieving. I applaud them, and hope to see them continue this new tradition of excellence by offering 5 lbs buckets of similar and equally awesome products:

• Youth
• Low-Calorie Cookie Dough
• Mirth
• Wisdom
• Success At Work
• Contentment

I'll be waiting, Pillsbury. I know you won't let me down.

Super Mega Garden Monsters

The sprawling I Tell You What estate includes a small garden. This not only provides some fresh produce, but also allows Sweetness to learn a bit about the world around her. I Tell You What, every kid should have a chance to be around plants to understand where so much of our food comes from. This year, we all learned a little bit about some garden monsters. This is in addition to the ongoing Great Wasp War.

I apologize for the poor quality of the photo above, but this picture of a tobacco hornworm is the only one I took that provided any sort of perspective. What a juggernaut! The thing was fierce some, it looks as though my daughter's hand is in jeopardy. Fortunately, hornworms are harmless. I was very surprised to discover that the white things on its back are not the eggs of a parasitic wasp, but the coccoons of wasp larvae that had already done their damage. Indeed, the hornworm hung on that branch for a few days before croaking. Not that I felt bad for the beast. It consumed an entire branch (almost 2 feet long) of our enormous cherry tomato plant, and at least a half of a large beefsteak tomato. This is the equivalent to Sarah Joy eating an entire giant pumpkin.
Last week I had a much more rewarding insect encounter. While mowing the lawn I saw an adult praying mantis running for the cover of our hydrangea bush. What a fascinating critter! Sweetness was enthralled by the hefty insectivore, but was a little intimidated. The praying mantis was a great study. She (I think it was a female) moved around a bit on our deck, but mostly hung out and cleaned her arms (equipped with iron maiden grip!) After a short while, we released her into one of our large blueberry bushes. Maybe she will lay an egg sack, and next year we can have a few more of these auspicious critters around.

These were great experiences for the children and adults of our family alike. I Tell You What, though, if I see these guys mixing it up in our back yard, I'm moving back to Michigan: