Eclipse!!
The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.
Nik's photo of the August 21 eclipse, photographed from Glendo, Wyoming. The star, Regulus, is barely visible to the lower left of the solar corona.
But you had to be within the "path of totality", a
narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.
And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give.
I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a
total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.
Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017
(Our kids have grown and are no longer posting blog stories here.
Below are some highlights from past posts.)
The DNF Strikes Back
Last month I was supposed to drop out of the Ironman. But I thumbed my nose at the plan to DNF and then guess what happened at my next race?
The DNF gods went ahead and took the sacrifice I owed them.
July 9th was the
Boulder Peak Olympic, a race with a long history of big time pro champions, and famous for its brutal climb up Olde Stage Road.
And I didn't finish it.
While perhaps an unremarkable turn of events in the world of competitive racing, this was unique for me, in that it was my first time.
I've completed more than 80 triathlons. If you add to that total all the 5ks, 10ks, half marathons, marathons, trail races, bike races, aquathons, etc - I've cruised through that glorious finish arch (or over that chalk line on the pavement) well over 200 times.
If you add to that total all the times I've climbed up on the starting blocks at a swim meet and reliably completed the 50, 100, 200, 1500 yard race ... OK maybe swim meets don't really count, because who DNFs a race that's only a minute long? (I mean, besides Mateo, the hero of the Ygnacio Valley High School swim team, who, on the historic day the phrase "WTF?!" was invented, swam 75 yards of a 100 yard race, and just got out at the other end of the pool. Something I've never seen happen before or since).
My point is, for over two decades, I've had a 100% success rate when it comes to finishing races. I'm obsessed with the irresistible pull of the finish line, perhaps to a fault.
I had observed a long time ago, with some bewilderment, that pros had an unusually high rate of DNF, despite their obviously superior level of capability. Was it vanity? "If I'm not the winner, I don't want to play!" Was it decadence? "Races? I've got a million of them, who cares?" Or were they perhaps going so insanely hard that they reached that point where limbs start flying off their bodies and they lay broken on the side of the road while age groupers trotted past?
I simply couldn't conceive of what possible reason there would be for surrender.
(I'm sure there's a lot to unpack there, because this mentality doesn't stop at racing for me ... )
It seemed I was incapable of separating the concepts of "unfinished" and "failure."
In light of this, Sunday's race was a major breakthrough for me.
I was well prepared and appropriately pumped for the Boulder Peak. Even with half the population of Boulder badasses out on pregnancy leave, the roster had still filled out with some top names.
Kaisa Sali had gone 5th at Kona last year.
Paula Findlay was a 2012 Olympian.
Alicia Kaye was a name I remember from the magazines back when I was still racing on an aluminum commuter bike. I wasn't going to be able to fight them for the podium, but I hoped that in the presence of greatness, I could perform to the best of my abilities and show some definite improvements in my own racing.
As the sun rose over the Boulder Reservoir, we lined up on the beach: eleven strong, confident women. There was some sort of glitch with the playing of the National Anthem, and while we waited in the awkward silence, Paula filled in with her national anthem, "O, Canadaaa! ... " Haha, nice cover.
She seems fun, I'd totally hang out with her. (But I guess I'd have to catch her first).
Posted by Kimberly 07/11/2017
Beautiful, happy northern Thailand
After tearing ourselves away from the glorious life on Koh Tao, Nik and I made our way up the country to the green hills of northern Thailand. We spent close to a week in the busy-but-friendly city of Chiang Mai, where we met up with the Chiang Mai Hash House Harriers. H3 is a worldwide network of people who like to run and drink beer. I'm not gonna bother trying to explain, because I can't really. But it's a group of fun people, and everyone "chases the hare," running a marked route that has false trails and intersections at which you must find the correct path. And you drink beer. Fun people, running, beer. Yeah, that's a simple little nutshell. So we got to join in on 2 hashes while we were in Chiang Mai, both of them out of town in the beautiful region surrounding the city. Quite an enjoyable way to see that part of Thailand :)
Nik and me, stopping for a quick photo whilst chasing the hare through the hills around Chiang Mai.
After our stint in Chiang Mai, we voyaged further north into the hills to the wonderful, happy little town of Pai. Pai had been previously recommended to us by numerous friends and acquaintances along our journey, by travelers whose opinions we trusted. Sure enough, we found our kind of atmosphere in Pai! It's a small community tucked away in the hills, where the locals are smiley,friendly, helpful, and happy, and the travelers in the community are good travelers - they are travelists.
Posted by Whitney 10/31/2008, revised 11/09/2008