Hope rides again! Live Strong! Live Armstrong!
I can easily slip into my golden running slippers and prance off into the sunset at the drop of a pin. The water flowing across my body in the pool reminds me of the frolic and detour I so enjoyed while in mommy’s womb. That menacing bicycle, however, that beast! It just stands there taunting me, teasing me, double-dog daring me to try, come-on just try and tame me. That wild barbarian once uttered, “I’ll show you pain, I’ll show you agony, I’ll show you defeat, come-on just get on.” Sure I was shaking, shivering and shuddering as I approached and began my ride. True to form I was rudely awakened, rather savagely beaten down by that two-wheeled Diablo. I finally settled on hiding my tormentor in the garage and secretly devising elaborate ways to dismantle and melt that monster down in some far-off prehistoric lava pit.
Until NOW! I’ve changed! I have visited Oz (Escondido) and the cowardly lion has been granted a small dose of courage. Yes, I’ve been revamped, reinvigorated, reinfiltrated, resituated, restipulated, rerigorated, remotivated, reticulated, refrigerated, and recycleminded. How Jake? How? What happened? Please tell me how this reincarnation happened. Please do tell. Okay! Okay! Calm down!
Yesterday I went to see my hero, yes; Lance Armstrong was finishing The Tour de California, an 800 mile race from Sacramento to Escondido. We got there and were immediately astonished by the magnitude of fanatics (fans) all about the coarse, riders of all walks and lives. It was inspiring at the least and heart attacking at the most. We watched those tigers race up a mountain that most mere mortals would not venture to walk. I was everready to snap a shot of my hero as the pack approached, but they race up a mountain quicker than I can ride down it, they were almost a blur. My hero was about tenth in the second pack, which was about ten minutes behind the lead pack. But not for long, they were approaching a mountain and had 5,500 feet of steep elevation to muster. I was wringing my hands with glee to be there and to personally witness Lance do what he does best – Endure More Pain Than Any Man Alive - I was certain that he would summit in the lead. My hopes were not unfounded, he caught the lead pack and at the top of the mountain he arrived in third position – Excellent! Lance Livestrong Armstrong finished sixth overall. Not bad for his first race after a 3 year siesta.
Lance and the tremendous bicycling atmosphere were extremely motivating. The newfound courage will help me battle those sinister aversions and doubts about enduring headwinds and peddling pain. Armstrong has helped me to become headstrong about getting legstrong.
Note: A good book about the overcoming of obstacles and facing fears is: It’s not about the Bike, by Lance Armstrong. I lugged my book to the race but couldn’t get to him for a signature.
Hope rides again! Live Strong! Live Armstrong!
Escondido is my Oz,
And Lance the Wizard,
Jake
Monday, February 23, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
NoWhere Man
Who discovered zero? If someone had come up with the concept of zero which everyone then saw as a brilliant innovation to enter mathematics from that time on, the question would have a satisfactory answer, even if we did not know which genius invented it. The historical record, however, shows quite a different path towards the concept. Zero makes shadowy appearances only to vanish again almost as if mathematicians were searching for it yet did not recognise its fundamental significance even when they saw it.
The first thing to say about zero is that there are two uses of zero which are both extremely important but are somewhat different. One use is as an empty place indicator in our place-value number system. Hence in a number like 2106 the zero is used so that the positions of the 2 and 1 are correct. Clearly 216 means something quite different. The second use of zero is as a number itself in the form we use it as 0. There are also different aspects of zero within these two uses, namely the concept, the notation, and the name (Our name "zero" derives ultimately from the Arabic sifr which also gives us the word "cipher".).
Neither of the above uses has an easily described history. It just did not happen that someone invented the ideas, and then everyone started to use them. Also it is fair to say that the number zero is far from an intuitive concept. Mathematical problems started as 'real' problems rather than abstract problems. Numbers in early historical times were thought of much more concretely than the abstract concepts which are our numbers today. There are giant mental leaps from 5 horses to 5 "things" and then to the abstract idea of "five". If ancient peoples solved a problem about how many horses a farmer needed then the problem was not going to have 0 or -23 as an answer.
Today, I awoke feeling a little Zero. Tomorrow, I'mm hoping to wake-up feeling like a strong One.
To the genious concept of nothing (both conceptually and literally),
Jake
The first thing to say about zero is that there are two uses of zero which are both extremely important but are somewhat different. One use is as an empty place indicator in our place-value number system. Hence in a number like 2106 the zero is used so that the positions of the 2 and 1 are correct. Clearly 216 means something quite different. The second use of zero is as a number itself in the form we use it as 0. There are also different aspects of zero within these two uses, namely the concept, the notation, and the name (Our name "zero" derives ultimately from the Arabic sifr which also gives us the word "cipher".).
Neither of the above uses has an easily described history. It just did not happen that someone invented the ideas, and then everyone started to use them. Also it is fair to say that the number zero is far from an intuitive concept. Mathematical problems started as 'real' problems rather than abstract problems. Numbers in early historical times were thought of much more concretely than the abstract concepts which are our numbers today. There are giant mental leaps from 5 horses to 5 "things" and then to the abstract idea of "five". If ancient peoples solved a problem about how many horses a farmer needed then the problem was not going to have 0 or -23 as an answer.
Today, I awoke feeling a little Zero. Tomorrow, I'mm hoping to wake-up feeling like a strong One.
To the genious concept of nothing (both conceptually and literally),
Jake
Friday, January 30, 2009
Boney Mountain Half Marathon
The Exterra Boney Mountain Half Marathon trail run was a blistering run of unforgiving treachery and indescribable beauty. We tracked straight up mountain sides only to come screaming down the back side only to track straight up another mountain side only to come screaming down the other back side only to…… and so it went for 13.2 miles.
At the bell Steve took off like a pack of wild dingo’s were after him. Mike was running the 5K so he was of no consequence. Elsa looked fresh as she immediately passed me kicking dust in my eyes. I humbly and meekly started out slowly and gingerly, after all I was physically ill and mentally ill prepared for this broke-back back-break mountain. The wind was howling and whipping at near hurricane force if it was a gale at all, my friends. How fickle was I to have cursed it with one breath only to embrace it with another. When confronted with its fury it was a bitter and hated enemy but at my back a sweet and dear friend. With head bowed and slave to the wind I cursed it one second and smiled with it the next. I slowly plodded my way up and down broke-back mountain, oops, I mean, back-broke mountain.
I caught Elsa at eight miles, sure she tried to trip me but I was ready for any and all diabolical and devious exploits she could offer, her ill conceived scheme was easily foiled. Dealing with Steve, however, that took a little contemplation as he now fancies himself a contender. Sure, he reads book upon book about trickery and tricksterism, he maybe a worthy opponent in the courtroom, but the race track is the real world and well outside the courts jurisdiction. Here he has no papa judge to protect him, no court tails to hide behind. In the race world I am not bound to the rules of civil and criminal procedure, there are no civil rights out here, jungle law rules the day. Out here on these trails, his tears are the only comfort he'll embrace as my shoulder can only shrug any and all pleas for mercy. The only set of rules that I subscribe to in the race world are those prescribed by complete and utter "Victory."
I caught Steve on a hill at the ten mile mark and like Felix the Cat he had his bag of tricks ready. I was extra nimble and tip-toe wiry as I approached him with extreme caution and apprehension, but all for not. The tacks on the road, the releasing and cause of oil slicks, enducing small rock slides, turning direction signs the other way, and the verbal rope-a-dope tactics were all “old school.” I chuckled and whistled while I worked at undermining and countering every thrust and parry that my (half) witted buddy Steve could muster.
As he finally lay down in utter defeat, I at last was able to set one foot upon his chest and two fists in the air while yelling “VICTORY” at the top of my lungs. The gdass hoppa was unable to snatch the pea from the master’s hand that fine day.
On the serious side, it was a hard trail run with wonderful strong wind and beautiful scenery. We had a fun day and I really enjoyed the company of Steve, Mike, and Elsa. Exterra trail runs are all set in scenic locations, get on line and check them out. In the future I plan on running most of them, perhaps you can join me.
At the bell Steve took off like a pack of wild dingo’s were after him. Mike was running the 5K so he was of no consequence. Elsa looked fresh as she immediately passed me kicking dust in my eyes. I humbly and meekly started out slowly and gingerly, after all I was physically ill and mentally ill prepared for this broke-back back-break mountain. The wind was howling and whipping at near hurricane force if it was a gale at all, my friends. How fickle was I to have cursed it with one breath only to embrace it with another. When confronted with its fury it was a bitter and hated enemy but at my back a sweet and dear friend. With head bowed and slave to the wind I cursed it one second and smiled with it the next. I slowly plodded my way up and down broke-back mountain, oops, I mean, back-broke mountain.
I caught Elsa at eight miles, sure she tried to trip me but I was ready for any and all diabolical and devious exploits she could offer, her ill conceived scheme was easily foiled. Dealing with Steve, however, that took a little contemplation as he now fancies himself a contender. Sure, he reads book upon book about trickery and tricksterism, he maybe a worthy opponent in the courtroom, but the race track is the real world and well outside the courts jurisdiction. Here he has no papa judge to protect him, no court tails to hide behind. In the race world I am not bound to the rules of civil and criminal procedure, there are no civil rights out here, jungle law rules the day. Out here on these trails, his tears are the only comfort he'll embrace as my shoulder can only shrug any and all pleas for mercy. The only set of rules that I subscribe to in the race world are those prescribed by complete and utter "Victory."
I caught Steve on a hill at the ten mile mark and like Felix the Cat he had his bag of tricks ready. I was extra nimble and tip-toe wiry as I approached him with extreme caution and apprehension, but all for not. The tacks on the road, the releasing and cause of oil slicks, enducing small rock slides, turning direction signs the other way, and the verbal rope-a-dope tactics were all “old school.” I chuckled and whistled while I worked at undermining and countering every thrust and parry that my (half) witted buddy Steve could muster.
As he finally lay down in utter defeat, I at last was able to set one foot upon his chest and two fists in the air while yelling “VICTORY” at the top of my lungs. The gdass hoppa was unable to snatch the pea from the master’s hand that fine day.
On the serious side, it was a hard trail run with wonderful strong wind and beautiful scenery. We had a fun day and I really enjoyed the company of Steve, Mike, and Elsa. Exterra trail runs are all set in scenic locations, get on line and check them out. In the future I plan on running most of them, perhaps you can join me.
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