tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12482670464782023622024-03-14T05:07:12.955+01:00Run In Intense City(Runnin' Intensity)Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.comBlogger227125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-72946057307671126692017-11-07T20:06:00.000+01:002017-11-08T14:04:01.795+01:00Boundary Bay Marathon - November 5, 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Remember, remember!<br />
The fifth of November,<br />
The Boundary Bay race we sought;<br />
I knew of no reason<br />
Why my legs would be seizin'<br />
And my training would be for nought!<br />
<br />
I haven't raced since 2010,<br />
My spirit I did revive,<br />
To crush the run, no argument,<br />
Or, at the very least, survive.<br />
<br />
I started training, 5 months ago,<br />
To prove this body was not too slow.<br />
My marathon itch, it needed a scratch,<br />
And the race was off as we left in a batch!<br />
<br />
I'll make no mistake,<br />
Or my legs will ache!<br />
<br />
T'was gorgeous the run,<br />
Incredible view,<br />
So much to see,<br />
As I swallowed each GU.<br />
<br />
No slope, no slope, I knew I'd cope,<br />
My body felt great from limb to limb,<br />
Mile by mile I ran it down,<br />
Lactic acid to my brim.<br />
<br />
Run strong, boys! Run strong, boys! I gave everything!<br />
Run fast, boys! Run fast, boys! To my pace I did cling!<br />
Hip, hip, hooor-r-r-ray!<br />
<br />
****************************************************************<br />
Last spring I was inspired as I watched my wife run the Calgary marathon. I felt a tingling deep down inside - my competitive juices were started to bubble. Not to be competitive against her, but myself. That's what makes running amazing after all - it is a personal journey that encourages travel companions along the way, but the journey remains yours.<br />
<br />
I was also inspired by my weight. For too long I had used my kids as an excuse not to be in shape as I gradually slid (uncomfortably so) into a "dad bod". I mistakenly thought I was still in shape - I could still bust out a relatively fast mile here or there during my increasingly infrequent runs, but I wasn't being honest with myself. The scale was honest - too honest, in fact (to the point of being rude). 6 months ago I was dangerously avoiding the 190 pound mark by just a few tenths of a pound.<br />
<br />
An old coach of mine, who I credit for making me an running enthusiast when I lived in Houston, used to say that a proper marathon training program should not be confused as a weight loss program. That's a fair statement, but I decided to ignore it anyhow as I dusted off my Jack Daniel's training book and began planning my training schedule for the Boundary Bay Marathon. I had two key motives: Lose weight, and to complete a marathon once again.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B7gjd1JQ-Bw/WgH6dKnbcvI/AAAAAAAAEVE/B4_Q9Dh8sNcjUGn3ymVA_wAJo5SSdfz6wCLcBGAs/s1600/BoundaryBayCourse.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="913" height="276" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B7gjd1JQ-Bw/WgH6dKnbcvI/AAAAAAAAEVE/B4_Q9Dh8sNcjUGn3ymVA_wAJo5SSdfz6wCLcBGAs/s640/BoundaryBayCourse.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<i style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Boundary Bay marathon course - flat, scenic, and the last Boston Qualifying race of the season in Canada, which gave me more time to prepare and train.</span></i><br />
<i style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></i>
The first training runs were brutal (and they were supposed to be 'Easy'!). There were several 8 mile treks, done at a 8:30 min/mile pace where I questioned my sanity and my ability to run anything longer, or faster. But if you know me, you know that I am more stubborn than smart.<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span>
So I kept running. I kept following my program. And I started each run asking myself, "What is the point of this run?" For the first time in my entire running career, I ran with maturity. I ran with patience. I ran alongside my wife who was also following the same training program - who consistently inspired me when she nailed the hard workouts to do the same.<br />
<br />
I ran with confidence in my plan and strength from my partner.<br />
<br />
My VDOT increased as my weight continued to melt away and the miles logged on. As the marathon date became nearer and was no longer a distant horizon on my calendar, I started to think about Boston. That was the last marathon I have run, and I started to think that maybe, just maybe, I might be able to qualify at Boundary Bay. I had no intentions of going, but could I run that fast again? Now?<br />
<br />
The thing about Jack Daniel's is that he does give you confidence. Whether you think I am talking about a smooth whiskey, or a crazy intense running coach, you are right. The completion of each quality workout slowly revealed an almost forgotten runner below. I was mentally and physically confident boarding the plane to Abbotsford for the marathon weekend.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QLKBAtkDoLw/WgHz2TtFNBI/AAAAAAAAEUs/LtFNGtZe-ogUQy7SZzWkmnVylAOfkuBVQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="966" data-original-width="1288" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QLKBAtkDoLw/WgHz2TtFNBI/AAAAAAAAEUs/LtFNGtZe-ogUQy7SZzWkmnVylAOfkuBVQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0394.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<i style="text-align: center;">Checking out the race course the night before. It was windy, freezing, and made one question their sanity for signing up for a marathon in November in Canada.</i><br />
<i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i>
Do you know what I don't like? When people ask me what I plan on running when I sign up for an event? "What's your goal time?" they ask. I hate this question. I don't understand it. Young David, always had an answer. In fact, he was always fixated on his answer. Young David always had a very specific response. He also had specific excuses and reasons to explain his answer. Young David was dumb.<br />
<br />
Going into this marathon, being my 17th, and considering that my life is drastically different than it was before when I seriously ran, I figured that maturity and wisdom <b><i>should </i></b>be something that I could start to rely on by now. Being wiser, I do not make Time-Based goals as I used to. (Did I mention that these are dumb?) They focus on the wrong thing - the result. It is the <i>process </i>that one should focus on - if you get this right, the result is simply the marriage of your preparation and execution.<br />
<br />
Preparation is not, simply, following a training program. Ask yourself this: What are you strong at? What is your best quality as a runner? A marathon training program will get you from one line painted on the ground to another, with a few water stations in between. But what are you doing between those lines that focuses on your strengths, while avoiding your weaknesses?<br />
<br />
I know where I am my strongest. I know where I feel most alive. I know when I feel most invincible. 5k and 10k efforts. My body, my mind, my soul like it here. It is controlled pain. It is mental focus. It is unquestioning determination and stubborness. It is me.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--X0L_U2qbq8/WgHz2eENiLI/AAAAAAAAEUo/d0rD6ZqpllYwWUDpTUxg77VnTP7IcavIACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0396.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1288" data-original-width="966" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--X0L_U2qbq8/WgHz2eENiLI/AAAAAAAAEUo/d0rD6ZqpllYwWUDpTUxg77VnTP7IcavIACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0396.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i>Heading out the door to go run the marathon!</i></div>
<br />
I planned my marathon to get me to a point where I could unleash this effort. Instead of getting increasingly fatigued as the marathon went on, my goal was to become increasingly strong, more determined, and increasingly happy. So what was the plan?<br />
<br />
Negative splits. The great thing about running negative splits is that if you got it, you'll do it. If you don't, then it is a good thing you started slower so you didn't completely blow-up. Specifically, I wanted to start at a 7:42 min/mile pace, and increase my pace by 2 seconds each mile and try to run a 5km "race" at the end. The result of this process would be a Boston Qualifying time of 3:10:58.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uHw1w-NrjWk/WgL8rHxyerI/AAAAAAAAEVk/ezyHM1Lf_3YwsPtZ_n1ktWRuNRlnuQ_XgCLcBGAs/s1600/23319217_10155816722887128_3080038023125209305_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="425" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uHw1w-NrjWk/WgL8rHxyerI/AAAAAAAAEVk/ezyHM1Lf_3YwsPtZ_n1ktWRuNRlnuQ_XgCLcBGAs/s640/23319217_10155816722887128_3080038023125209305_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>And we are off! I am lower left with the blue shirt and orange glasses.</i></div>
<br />
So, what actually happened (paces listed as min/mile)?<br />
<br />
<b>Miles 1-5:</b> 7:43, 7:40, 7:36, 7:37, 7:32 <b>38:09</b><br />
<b>Miles 6-10:</b> 7:30, 7:23, 7:25, 7:20, 7:17 <b>36:55</b><br />
<b>Miles 11-15:</b> 7:19, 7:14, 7:17, 7:08, 7:10 <b>36:08</b><br />
<b>Miles 16-20:</b> 7:07, 7:06, 7:02, 6:59, 6:56 <b>35:10</b><br />
<b>Miles 21-25:</b> 6:55, 6:55, 6:50, 6:48, 6:39 <b>34:06</b><br />
<b>Miles 26+:</b> 6:36, 6:12 <b>9:05</b><br />
<br />
<b><i>Avg pace:</i></b> 7:11 min/mile<br />
<br />
<b>TIME: 3:09:27.1 - </b>4th Overall (/140)<br />
<i>First Half: 1:38:14</i><br />
<i>Second Half: 1:31:13</i><br />
<br />
Of all the marathons I have ever done, I executed this one the best both in terms of training and actual race day performance. 4 weeks out, I practiced the final 15 mile acceleration and finished the final 2 miles around a 6 minute pace. I treated race day as two separate pieces: 11 mile warm-up + 15 mile workout. If I got to the beginning of the 15 mile workout with a controlled HR, then I would be in good shape.<br />
<br />
Graphically, the pace (blue), effort (HR is in red), and pace difference (black) from average are shown below:<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDvf0t18vwA/WgHzxr_VYlI/AAAAAAAAEUk/mPJvITbGmJkOmdoU8vapvOwNId90IIVLwCLcBGAs/s1600/2017-11-05-BoundaryBay-Pace.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="1416" height="462" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDvf0t18vwA/WgHzxr_VYlI/AAAAAAAAEUk/mPJvITbGmJkOmdoU8vapvOwNId90IIVLwCLcBGAs/s640/2017-11-05-BoundaryBay-Pace.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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I see/read/hear a lot of talk about HR zones, but I do not see a lot about how your HR changes within those zones. Over distance and time your HR is not a static entity that comfortably finds equilibrium within a particular training zone - it increases with prolonged time of effort. The rate in which your HR increases is a function of the HR zone you are in. One will "hit the wall" when their HR hits its max before the race is over (at least this is true in my experiences). A successful marathon is all about controlling when this happens and, thus, being extremely aware of when and how your HR starts to increase during the race.</div>
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Marathon preparation and training is when you learn this. How does my HR increase and when does it happen? When I am running easy-aerobic, my HR increases by approximately 1 beat/minute per mile run (green slope on graph above). My lower HR limit of my Threshold zone is around 146-148 bpm. At this point my rate of HR increase doubles to 2 beats/minute per mile. Note that this HR zone does NOT equate to a Threshold pace - it occurs at a much slower pace. This is simply due to my slowly increasing HR over the first 16/17 miles of the marathon.</div>
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Once you are on this track, there is no going back. Start too early and hit your max with race to spare, then you can enjoy your walk to the finish line. I try to error on the side of starting a little too late, because I can speed up when I feel comfortable. This is what I did in the final two miles - I let my heart guide my run without waiting for confirmation from my watch. I kept telling myself, "Don't do anything dumb...Don't do anything dumb..." until I was confident that I wouldn't (and feeling confident that I am not doing anything dumb is not a feeling I get a lot!!)<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nxx1pULrNrc/WgL8L1XiJRI/AAAAAAAAEVc/BJ11VDycyG0kCsriYVETnDhOmaosEBGiwCLcBGAs/s1600/23231421_10155817222702128_7160496420801855301_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nxx1pULrNrc/WgL8L1XiJRI/AAAAAAAAEVc/BJ11VDycyG0kCsriYVETnDhOmaosEBGiwCLcBGAs/s640/23231421_10155817222702128_7160496420801855301_n.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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<i>This moment felt great!</i></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jtbpqu9xjfo/WgL8L07Ou1I/AAAAAAAAEVY/bD-WfKfFPBMyY6Ye6X74DuhY9F2bW6RqgCLcBGAs/s1600/23376113_10155817190587128_6832710836197376993_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jtbpqu9xjfo/WgL8L07Ou1I/AAAAAAAAEVY/bD-WfKfFPBMyY6Ye6X74DuhY9F2bW6RqgCLcBGAs/s640/23376113_10155817190587128_6832710836197376993_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<i>Finished!</i></div>
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Training for a marathon is, in fact, a marathon in itself. It is impossible to do properly without the help, support, and patience of the people around you - my 3 kids and my amazing wife. I was so excited and privileged to share this journey with her.</div>
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Not only does my wife offer amazing support - she offers great motivation - she finished 2nd female overall!</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hvyBZCAUDEI/WgMAlC7aHwI/AAAAAAAAEVw/ICfhM6AmM74sgg8g7ZXibJVTQJbOoAQGQCLcBGAs/s1600/23434870_10155817191912128_3315349203528330839_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hvyBZCAUDEI/WgMAlC7aHwI/AAAAAAAAEVw/ICfhM6AmM74sgg8g7ZXibJVTQJbOoAQGQCLcBGAs/s640/23434870_10155817191912128_3315349203528330839_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<i>Her and the guy to the left used the buddy system to get home!</i></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oD9UZXlMb2w/WgHz2Q-97dI/AAAAAAAAEUw/Q93C_CWume4ZwiC1utp_bC9RMGr4h6kWgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0406.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oD9UZXlMb2w/WgHz2Q-97dI/AAAAAAAAEUw/Q93C_CWume4ZwiC1utp_bC9RMGr4h6kWgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0406.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>The woman's winner and my wife finishing second!</i></div>
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Did I mention that if you were not running, it was pretty darn cold! For running, the weather was nearly perfect!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--FL72_0Rlq8/WgHz3JDAa4I/AAAAAAAAEU0/QHx4o34B760IcfCzekUDKbIlKzBlTFbVQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--FL72_0Rlq8/WgHz3JDAa4I/AAAAAAAAEU0/QHx4o34B760IcfCzekUDKbIlKzBlTFbVQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0411.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">At the end of the run</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So, the marathon is done. Does this mean my journey is done? No. It will take a little break right now, but will continue. I lost 26 pounds from when I started, shared an amazing experience with my wife, and demonstrated a healthy and active lifestyle to my kids. I no longer use them as an excuse to gain weight, but they are my motivation to keep up.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading.</div>
Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-24613185272934559812017-05-31T00:40:00.001+02:002017-05-31T00:40:23.168+02:00May 30 - 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After a very long hiatus, I think it is time to run a marathon again. I am not the runner I once was, but I can run once like the runner I was.<br />
<br />
My journey begins with different expectations, different goals, but same Jack Daniel's running philosophies (but with a VDOT that is 10 less than before).<br />
<br />
<b><u>Seasonal Goal:</u></b><br />
Time to rebuild and refocus to November 5, 2017.<br />
Marathon: <a href="http://www.tryevents.ca/try_events_boundary_bay_marathon.htm">Boundary Bay</a><br />
Goal Time: 3:30<br />
<br />
<b><u>Next Season's Goal:</u></b><br />
Let's get back to Boston.<br />
<br />
This blog may be less intense than before...time does that. But it will give focus, and that over time will bring back some intensity.<br />
<br />
Let's start.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-50842055302938067092010-03-01T07:47:00.002+01:002010-03-01T07:50:01.519+01:00March 1: ConsolationIf it is any consolation to my American friends who may be lamenting their loss to the superior Canadian men's hockey team - it was an overtime loss, so at least you will still get one point for your efforts...Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-22945749084913551062010-02-28T17:58:00.004+01:002010-02-28T18:41:09.467+01:00Feb. 28: Running RecapThis blog was originally started so the JD and I could communicate our Berlin training progress with each other to help keep us motivated through the gruelling training prescriped by the original JD. Well here we are again both planning on running another marathon together but this blog is not being used at all to keep each other motivated. I know that he is training in his usual dedicated and intense way whereas my running (noticed I did not use the word "training") has been quite spotty, so there really has not been much for me to report. This was a good week though. <div><div><div><div> </div><div>Monday: 4.25 miles with the Lagos Hash House Harriers. This was like running fartleks. At some intersections you were not sure where to go (based on the symbology used by the HHHs) so you would have to run down a street, realize that you were on the wrong path, turn back, and step on the gas a little to catch back up to the correct path.</div><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4qoDxmZdUI/AAAAAAAADaA/8ODUtlGNw_M/s1600-h/My+Activities+HHH+-+Ikoyi+2-22-2010.png"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443347882438128962" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4qoDxmZdUI/AAAAAAAADaA/8ODUtlGNw_M/s400/My+Activities+HHH+-+Ikoyi+2-22-2010.png" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div>Tuesday: 6 exciting miles on the treadmill.</div><br /><div>Thursday: 6 exciting miles on the treadmill.</div><br /><div>Friday: 5 miles. I was invited to the Chevron run, which Chevron sponsors for its employees. It was a great way to finish the week. The run leaves from Chevron's compound and winds along a sandy road to a bonfire pit on the beach. After watching the sun set, and meeting a few other runners, a bus takes you back to the compund. This run occurs every week - unfortunately it is a long way away and starts early at 5:30pm. I am not sure how often I will make this run, but I am hoping I can figure something out because it was great. (In the picture I am sure you can recognize Banana Island. The distance to the Chevron run may not seem like much, but with Lagos traffic it is not a simple task to get there. The satellite photo also highlights how the run felt like I was actually running out in the country - note the concrete jungle on the left (aka my usual hangout) vs. the green vegatation on the right).</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4qoDZ7fR5I/AAAAAAAADZ4/ZK_RNqsSHAc/s1600-h/My+Activities+Chevron+Run+2-26-2010.png"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443347876084139922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4qoDZ7fR5I/AAAAAAAADZ4/ZK_RNqsSHAc/s400/My+Activities+Chevron+Run+2-26-2010.png" /></a><br /><br /><div>Saturday: 10 miles (4+6). I started the day by running 1 lap around Banana Island (4 miles) and I finished the day with 6 exciting miles on the treadmill.</div><br /><div>Sunday: 12 miles (4+4+4). This was interval training - Nigerian Style. I ran one lap around Banana Island clockwise, then I went for breakfast. I returned to run another lap but counter-clockwise (to keep it fresh!). Upon arriving home I decided to add 4 exciting miles on the treadmill.</div><br /><div>In total I ran 43 miles this week. They were all very slow miles, but they were miles none-the-less. I am pretty happy with my running this week...even the little guy seems pleased!</div><div> </div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4qo-xEpFII/AAAAAAAADaQ/jA6X-rWgncg/s1600-h/IMG_6150.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443348895908828290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4qo-xEpFII/AAAAAAAADaQ/jA6X-rWgncg/s400/IMG_6150.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-79482915751035909192010-02-23T20:06:00.002+01:002010-02-23T20:52:45.901+01:00Feb. 23: I thought I was coming down with something......but it turns out that I am just eating a lot of fibre.<br /><br />I blame Patience (aka Precious). She has been doing all of my grocery shopping for the last little while and I have pretty much given her free reign to buy whatever she wants. She has a general idea of the types of things that I like. The trade-off between getting a few surprises in the fridge vs. wasting a Saturday afternoon in a sweaty market shopping is worth it.<br /><br />Now I know that amongst several (all?) of you that I have a reputation as being an eater. JD tells me that it goes straight to my ass and having to lug it all around a marathon course is what slows me down. Apparently Patience thinks I am quite the eater as well - she went shopping today. Upon returning home from work I was greeted with an entire fruit and vegetable section in my refrigerator.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4Qor8-5AFI/AAAAAAAADZk/vUKMxTNCHYM/s1600-h/002.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441518985339797586" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4Qor8-5AFI/AAAAAAAADZk/vUKMxTNCHYM/s400/002.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And beside the fridge I have all the stuff that could not fit in the fridge.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4QosSrLopI/AAAAAAAADZs/8dk0jg6fy1Q/s1600-h/003.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441518991162712722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S4QosSrLopI/AAAAAAAADZs/8dk0jg6fy1Q/s400/003.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Let me just take a second to highlight some of the things that you may or may not have missed from the above pictures: 2 coconuts, head of cauliflower, 2 heads of broccoli, 3 heads of lettuce, enough oranges and grapefruit to prevent scurvy for entire armies camped out in winter, 2 pineapples (+ 1/2 of another already cut up in a tupperware), 4 mangos, 2 dozen tomatoes, a dozen pears, 8 apples, a dozen plums, a batch of grapes, a sack full of potatoes, 4 croissants, a jumbo loaf of bread, and a 2 foot long fish. I am sure that I missed something but I think you get the idea.<br /><br />At least I am eating good food...right?!<br /><br />Hold that thought...I got to go to the bathroom.<br /><br />Ok where was I? Oh yes, I also wanted to mention that I met up with the Lagos Hash House Harriers last night and got in 4.25 miles. To be honest, I have always avoided the Hash because it has never really sounded like my thing. And I am still not sure that it is my thing. I am just happy to be running with others.<br /><br />They were a great group of people and I enjoyed myself but I find that there is a lot of wasted time. What happened to the days of showing up, running, then meeting at Panera Bread when you are done (if nothing else just to make a public appearance in your short shorts)? But with the Hash it takes all night just to run 4.25 miles. If I were anywhere else in the world I probably would be bothered by that. Since I have nothing better going on, I think I shall make a habit out of meeting them.<br /><br />Today I hit the treadmill for 7 miles (or 1 1/2 episodes of Heroes).<br /><br />I am off to the bathrooom again - have a good day!Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-73239159237390578602010-02-21T19:01:00.004+01:002010-02-21T20:23:08.609+01:00Feb. 21: Why is there so much crime?Of all the places that I have ever lived I have never seen such a place like Lagos when it comes to religion - in particular Christianity. Everywhere you look you will see bible verses painted on cars, trucks, boats, sides of buildings...well pretty much anywhere. (Actually that also reminds me of when I lived in Missouri and saw "Jesus" signs everywhere). At the workplace you hear a lot of mention of God and Jesus and people are not shunned or discouraged from bringing their religion into the office (as is the case in North America). If something good happens you are told to praise Jesus. (The only time you see someone praising Jesus in the American workplace is if you consider the NBA or NFL a "workplace" and a player (i.e. a "worker) pounds his right arm across his chest before shooting it to the sky while nodding his head in thanks. I have often wanted to do this after a sweet PowerPoint presentation before spiking my notepad on the ground but I digress).<br /><br />People are named Sunday to celebrate the fact that they were born on God's day. Speaking of Sunday, it is a pretty special day because EVERYone goes to church. In fact, this is the only day that it is recommended that I can drive on my own - the roads are completely empty (unless you drive past a church).<br /><br />Sure, I have experienced many of these things in other countries as well but not to the same magnitude as I see here in Nigeria. This brings me to the title of this blog - by all appearances this is the most Godly place I have ever lived in so why do I have to be escorted by an armed gaurd? Furthermore, why do I keep getting emails offering me financial windfalls if I help some Nigerian prince transfer his funds he just recieved by pillaging a new country or something?<br /><br />I am sure the answer is something simple. All the locals that I know have jobs and are gainfully employed. It stands to reason that the majority of my impressions of the locals are formed by them. I am sure that there are a few sketchy characters amongst the ~10 million inhabitants who have learned how to cash a ransom cheque with little difficulty. My random thought of the day while swerving back 'n forth across two lanes of road today because I had it all to myself. But if anyone were to ask - I was just warming my tires - Nascar style.<br /><br />I ran 35 miles this week - 27 on the treadmill. I finished the week by running 10 miles today, which is huge for me because I have not done a double digits day in an eon. To break it up I ran 4 miles outside (at lunchtime in the heat and decided that was completely stupid) then came home and did 6 on the treadmill.Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-3391817901638794572010-02-18T20:51:00.003+01:002010-02-18T21:28:49.860+01:00Feb. 18: Winter OlympicsMy favorite time of year, every fourth year, is the Winter Olympics. I love watching them. I find myself completely mesmerized and glued to the TV for the latest news and highlights.<br /><br />In '98 I could not get enough of Schmirler the Curler, nor of the American men's hockey team trashing their hotel rooms (hmmmm hotel rooms, or rooms in the athlete's village?...hmmmm, if I recall correctly it was their hotel rooms...that does not seem very 'olympic-y' but that is not the point of this post).<br /><br />In 2002 I thoroughly enjoyed watching the Canadian men's hockey team beating the American men's hockey team ON american soil - that was pretty sweet! I will discuss the women's victory later.<br /><br />But I think my love for the olympics started in 1988 when I got to watch ski jumping, bobsled, hockey, and figure skating (just to name a few) all in my own back yard of Calgary. I was in grade 4 at the time and was fascinated by the "Battle of the Brians" and the final threads of the cold war - the hottest ticket in town was anybody vs. Russia. I instantly loved Eddie the Eagle and even got to watch him "soar" from the ski jump. And who could forget the Jamaican bobsled team - I even managed to get their autographs on a sweatshirt (too bad I ruined that sweatshirt!).<br /><br />A lot has changed since then. Jamaica sticks to the other olympics (can you imagine if Usan Bolt decided to become a bobsledder instead?!), professional athletes are now allowed to partake, Mr. Gorbechev tore down his wall, interpretive ski-dance never made it beyond an exhibition sport, snowboarding became a sport (the highlight being when Canadian snowboarder Ross Rebagliati was stripped of his gold medal for failing a drug test. He argued that the marijuana was from second hand smoke during a going away party before he left for the olympics. He got his gold medal back and became a national hero), Katarina Witt posed for playboy, speedskate technology changed - the new speedskate was dubbed the "clap skate" and instantly all records were demolished, mogul skiing was introduced, Tonya Harding proved that anything can be accomplished with a tire iron, Alberto Tomba seems to have been forgotten, and women started playing hockey.<br /><br />Now, I agree with all of the above changes...well all but two. I often felt that interpretive ski dance was a vastly under appreciated sport. The other sport that I do not think belongs in the Olympics is women's hockey. (I will wait patiently until the rotten eggs and cabbage have been thrown my way to explain my point).<br /><br />Why would any red blooded Canadian denounce hockey of any sort? To be honest I could care less if Canada won only 1 medal in the whole olympics - as long as it is gold and is for the men's hockey. So, what is different about women's hockey?<br /><br />Competition. That is what is different. Every year the gold and silver medal goes to Canada and USA. All the other games are complete blowouts. Do not get me wrong, I love watching the women's hockey. The passing is phenomenal and the goals all belong on highlight reels. I am all for equality and think that it is great that both sexes have the opportunity to play hockey. Unfortunately this opportunity only seems to be prevalent in North America. Until women's hockey can prove to be competitive at the world level, I think the olympics should push this sport aside and make some more room for interpretive ski-dance again.<br /><br />I am off to watch the day 5 highlights! Go Canada!Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-21251506533107178632010-02-16T20:13:00.007+01:002010-02-16T21:34:03.471+01:00Feb. 16: Ocada - LagosIf you are ever cruisin' the streets of Lagos...hmmm, let me correct that - If your <em>driver</em> is ever cruisin' in Lagos with you in the car, you will undoubtably see the ocada. What are the ocada? Basically, they are motorcycle taxis. They have the distinct advantage of being able to weave in and out of traffic to get their passengers across the congested, thick Lagos gridlock.<br /><br />Despite their valuable service that they provide to the pressed Lagos business man, the 'real' drivers (i.e. those that drive cars) all seem to hate them. In fact my driver (a.k.a. my main man Sunday) hopes that they will some day be banned from the streets (apparently they did this in Port Harcourt - but I cannot confirm that statement).<br /><br />Personally, I find them kind of entertaining to watch (but I am not driving). Here are some photos that might show you why the drivers hate them though.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rzoKhD_XI/AAAAAAAADY8/Mf8oXao_wM8/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438927371346640242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rzoKhD_XI/AAAAAAAADY8/Mf8oXao_wM8/s400/015.JPG" /></a><br /><br />This is a picture taken in my side mirror while waiting to cross an intersection. They line up along side and in between the vehicles.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rzn-g_CeI/AAAAAAAADY0/VBOmmD-QsU8/s1600-h/013.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438927368125090274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rzn-g_CeI/AAAAAAAADY0/VBOmmD-QsU8/s400/013.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>For safety reasons I am not allowed to use the Ocada to get around. But if I were to use an ocada, I would definitely use this guy.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rwj5mZqgI/AAAAAAAADYs/WBAW4w4_VwY/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438923999551269378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rwj5mZqgI/AAAAAAAADYs/WBAW4w4_VwY/s400/009.JPG" /></a> </div><div> </div><div>Here they are waiting to cross the same intersection as the first two pictures. This was taken from a different point of view.</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rwjjevXAI/AAAAAAAADYk/_tB0jm2TIwU/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438923993613556738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rwjjevXAI/AAAAAAAADYk/_tB0jm2TIwU/s400/005.JPG" /></a> </div><div> </div><div>This intersection is not quite as busy. You can see the business man in the white shirt catching a ride to his next destination.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rwjbyT4YI/AAAAAAAADYc/bIcS2fRzF9E/s1600-h/008.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438923991548158338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S3rwjbyT4YI/AAAAAAAADYc/bIcS2fRzF9E/s400/008.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Happy cruisin' in Lagos!</div>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-81265438148936386702010-02-13T18:17:00.003+01:002010-02-13T19:11:20.763+01:00Feb. 13: Time Changes Everything10 years ago I was dating the most wonderful girl in the world and was months away from graduating from University. The whole world was my oyster (as they say) - I was young, happy, and had no idea what future lay ahead of me. All I knew was that it would be awesome!<br /><br />5 years ago I had married that girl I was dating and we were enjoying the footloose and fancy-free life of DINKS (Duel Income, No Kids). We were both young professionals and could not possibly imagine that life could get any better.<br /><br />1 year ago we began to wonder if perhaps we were missing something. We were still very much in love and happy but were missing something we had not yet realised. Soon after my vocabulary was enriched with such words as "ovulation chart" and 'peak ovulation time' and 'you are not going for drinks with the boys tonight - you need to come home immediately after work'.<br /><br />10 days ago I had realized that knowing what I know now, I would have gotten familiar with those new words and phrases a lot earlier. I was the happiest I had ever been. Telling people that I am a father is the proudest thing that has ever left my lips.<br /><br />1 day ago I went to sleep alone, 17 hours by plane away from my family. I was sad and lonely and truely missing what I only dreamed about 1 year ago.<br /><br />1 hour ago I watched the highlights of the Vancouver Winter Olympic Opening ceremonies and realized that those musical video montages that they do on TV make me cry. Well, I was fine until I saw the moose wading through a swamp with some ryhtmic native drumming in the background...don't ask.<br /><br />10 minutes ago I saw Mason on Skype getting ready for his first Baby Bjorn outing - it was the highlight of my day.<br /><br />1 minute ago I got off Skype and started feeling really lonely again (Wow - I know what you are thinking - I must be a fast typer!!).<br /><br />Time does change everything. Sometimes it is for the better and sometimes it is for the worse. I keep reminding myself that even the bad times take me moments closer to the good times ahead with my precious son and my beautiful wife again.<br /><br />ps - If you could pick a winter olympic sport that you could compete in during the olympics, what sport would it be?Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-90344912430661724872010-01-28T19:46:00.004+01:002010-01-28T20:15:16.667+01:00Jan. 27: Happy Diner<p>Perhaps it is time for me to rename my blog - I am clearly not running "intensely" and there is definitely a baby focus right now...but would you rather see little Mason or heart rate graphs and talk of VDOT's and intervals? </p><p>That is what I thought...here is the little guy trying to have a little burp after dining at mommy's all you can eat buffet.</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx7MwutnsBFNBrJtbF17wJzZR47jK_nh3jrGJB0xEgLR1rDVohx_O4yID2-DzXwXIpUWbjwnWKOmCWgvhKjDw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>ps - Steeeeve, Starbucks has yet to offer something as delicious as mommy's latte...</p>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-86203805189822506492010-01-27T18:36:00.003+01:002010-01-27T18:52:37.064+01:00Jan. 26: Sound of Music<p>There is a new sound of music playing in our household...it is like satellite radio - non-stop and commercial-free.</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwjOo90MJBV6Kp2L10Wvu9Rnb_dPsuPb_zbaKc45qYOKh35hI9xwq8Xnr-lqsCA7JeJ-PeBMuNpGbmgzCUgQA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>To be honest Mason is generally very content throughout the day. He really wakes up from 9pm-1am. We are hoping that his circadian rythyms will change soon to something a little more human.</p><p>After 72 hours he has lost 10.8% of his birth weight which has us a little concerned (he is now 7lbs 1oz). He has been feeding really well this past 24 hours so we hope that we will get some good news today when we go to get him checked up again. We are taking him in everyday until his feeding and weight start to stabalize.</p><p>A little later he might go for his first Starbucks coffee with Grandpa. Get 'em hooked young...</p>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-31554057483931546382010-01-26T19:47:00.006+01:002010-01-26T20:08:19.188+01:00Jan. 23: Mason Levi<p>This is one of those posts where I really do not need to say anything...</p><p>Mason Levi - 1 Hour Old</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwfWNSvEn42OnY7Zi5sVuy7YUAG1iuVQbbdRcLSSTtqPiN7WS7Y1TkiFWoARsqLBWVSJkP3d9GDSRwTDquBuQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>Mason Levi - 3 Hours Old</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxEM412ymflzT1hksM5O9Fg-p5XQ9meAN_L0vrtpwiG7h1ZFlnZmg9CAU3g9QP9chB3mOk_UsQrCpIpmDIrGw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>ps - Mommy and baby are doing excellent. Mason Levi was born at 10:07am on Saturday, January 23, 2010. He weighed 7lbs15ozs and is ~ 22 inches long. Daddy could not be more proud of both of them.</p>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-68181317814185349262010-01-21T00:56:00.002+01:002010-01-21T01:10:41.284+01:00Jan. 20: 41 weeks and counting...Today we went to the hospital for Jennie's 41 week ultrasound. The point of this ultrasound is to make sure that the baby is still healthy and thriving. If the answer is no, then induction is seriously discussed. If the answer is yes, then you keep waiting. We are still waiting...<br /><br />Infact, the doctor said the baby is doing perfectly well and is perfectly happy hanging out (in?) with mom. The tech also took a few measurements to estimate the baby's weight. Let's just say that poor Jennie has a little (big?) tank growing inside her right now. After hearing the estimated weight of the baby I have noticed a heightened level of fear and a tremble in her voice.<br /><br />I told her that she should also ask what the diameter of the baby's head will be too because I imagine that will be pretty significant information for her to know as well. Given the estimated weight of the baby I can only imagine how much of that is certified Minken Melon. Strangely she did not seem to think that was quite as funny as I did...<br /><br />In light of all this new information, we are not sure how this baby can possibly make it through the front door. The sunroof might be the only option!<br /><br />The highlight for me was seeing an image of the baby's face. You could see the little pudgy cheeks, pug nose, and just a little bit of hair growing. Jennie thinks that the baby looks like me. I guess we will just have to wait a little longer to find out.Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-59517518068710130332010-01-19T02:48:00.007+01:002010-01-19T15:50:57.188+01:00Jan. 19: What's New...?<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1USF1oL54I/AAAAAAAAC4I/k6MGukeLFl4/s1600-h/IMG_5659.JPG"></a>I arrived back in Calgary on Saturday, January 16 just in time (for the baby?) to take Jennie out for the 'last supper'. I thought it would be nice to take my lady out for a date before having to worry about baby sitters or sucking up to the grandparents and in-laws for free child care.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1URLJDhYAI/AAAAAAAAC4A/KHlbHSCFbkk/s1600-h/IMG_5642.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428263808971923458" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1URLJDhYAI/AAAAAAAAC4A/KHlbHSCFbkk/s400/IMG_5642.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Since my arrival we have just been passing time waiting for the baby. We have gotten no end of advice as to how to induce labor. So we have been taking vigorous walks, eating spicy food, and...ahem...ahem...but still nothing. Our time to be alone together is growing longer everyday. Not that that is a bad thing, it just means one less day that daddy gets to spend with baby. :(<br /></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQheDUs6I/AAAAAAAAC34/mpNVvrbdam4/s1600-h/IMG_5639.JPG"></a>We have played a few games (Schottentoten).<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQAj9BXzI/AAAAAAAAC3o/vRp2TgZmhHE/s1600-h/IMG_5645.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428262527702228786" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQAj9BXzI/AAAAAAAAC3o/vRp2TgZmhHE/s400/IMG_5645.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div> </div><div>We saw the 2010 Vancouver Olympic <a href="http://en.wikinews.org/wiki/Mascots_for_Vancouver_2010_Olympics_based_on_native_mythology">mascots</a> as the Olympic torch passed through Calgary. This is me with Quatchi at the Olympic Plaza.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQAFXVjAI/AAAAAAAAC3g/XaIRlXqKQUk/s1600-h/IMG_5659.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428262519491103746" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQAFXVjAI/AAAAAAAAC3g/XaIRlXqKQUk/s400/IMG_5659.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>And here I am getting ready to strut with Miga.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UP_yeaSvI/AAAAAAAAC3Y/uxe7Ss41490/s1600-h/IMG_5656.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428262514420501234" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UP_yeaSvI/AAAAAAAAC3Y/uxe7Ss41490/s400/IMG_5656.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>Miga and I dancing down Stephen Avenue Mall together.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UP_eSaCuI/AAAAAAAAC3Q/h4DcnfBq24I/s1600-h/IMG_5657.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428262509001444066" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UP_eSaCuI/AAAAAAAAC3Q/h4DcnfBq24I/s400/IMG_5657.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>As a side note, I have to say Miga was certainly my favorite mascot. Originally (on paper) I liked Quatchi the best but after seeing his costume I am not at all impressed. He looks like a hairy ghost from pack-man. The costume looks like shag carpet draped over a giant egg. Whereas I thought Miga was really cute.<br /></div><div>While walking home from the festivities we enjoyed the Olympic torch that was lit on top of the Calgary Tower. This torch was lit every day during the Calgary Olympics in 1988 so it was really neat to see it lit up again.</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQBGLWTzI/AAAAAAAAC3w/n1eFMXnKZco/s1600-h/IMG_5668.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428262536889126706" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/S1UQBGLWTzI/AAAAAAAAC3w/n1eFMXnKZco/s400/IMG_5668.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div> </div><div>We also enjoyed Jennie's first serious contraction. There was only one, but at least I finally feel that we are starting to move in the right direction!</div><div> </div><div>We will keep you posted (hopefully sooner than later)....</div>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-78266126195005513602010-01-11T20:45:00.002+01:002010-01-11T21:08:14.455+01:00Jan. 11: Hold....Hold....Well, if Jennie was going to have the baby without me, I was hoping that it would be today. Why? Because I love the way the date looks when you write it. 01/11/10. But, now that this day has come and gone (well almost, but I am rounding up) I just hope Jennie and baby can hold on for just a few more days...(Think Braveheart and his army with large wooden sticks vs. a multitude of charging war horses).<br /><br />ps - I ran 42 miles on the ol' treadmill last week.Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-60303773747324272582010-01-09T20:12:00.004+01:002010-01-09T20:36:30.617+01:00Jan. 9: Great ExcuseToday Jennie informed me that her and the future milk junkie where going to go and get a pedicure. Her and I both agree that it will be best for me to stay "north of the border" during the delivery (being Canadian, this only seems appropriate) yet we both know that we will be looking anxiously and expectedly towards the south during the sweat session.<br /><br />So what exactly will our vantage point offer? I imagine that I will see a doctor wearing a full face mask, similar to that of a welder, looking back in our general direction (I am hoping that there will not be a lot of small talk because that would just be a little awkard). Then I am hoping everything else is covered (we do want to have another later you know!). But it is possible that her toes might be peeping out from under the covers - thus the importance of getting a pedicure.<br /><br />So there you have it. That is quite possibly the best excuse I have ever heard from the wife as to why a getting a pedicure is important. Like most discussions with a pregnant woman she, of course, is completely right.<br /><br />Now I just need her to keep the baby prisoner for one more week. The scene from Wedding Crashers comes to mind...lock it up Jennie.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6IpHHtl8gC4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6IpHHtl8gC4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-62703920646174203502010-01-03T18:46:00.003+01:002010-01-03T19:06:20.197+01:00Jan. 3: Restless NightDo you ever have one of those nights where you are just not comfortable sleeping? Where you are feeling hot and sweaty under the covers but as soon as you pull them off you are freezing? Where nothing you seem to do really seems to help? Where you can feel a little swamp forming around you and soaking into the sheets? And all you want is a little relief?<br /><br />And then you realize that you have to sneeze. This is your opportunity! You roll onto your back and sneeze with all your might straight up. Moments later you are greeted with a refreshing cool mist raining down upon you. It is pure bliss...ahhhhhhhhhh.<br /><br />Then you realize that was kind of gross and that your butt is still sweating.<br /><br />If only I could sneeze again....<br /><br />ps - In running news I ran 43 miles this weeks...all on the treadmill. Good times!Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-10504396459086850302009-12-29T20:45:00.002+01:002009-12-29T21:18:58.168+01:00Dec. 29: Time FliesCan you believe that it was a decade ago that Prince blessed us with the last big hit of the millenium (and arguably the best party phrase) as he taught us how to "party like it's 1999"? Despite all fears that our computerized world was going to melt down and cease to exist as we knew it, we partied anyhow and have lived to tell our tale.<br /><br />Now here we are 10 years later and I must take a moment to reflect on all that has happened in this relatively short time frame. I do not want to dwell on things - I would just like to provide a quick flipbook, if you will, of some highlights from 2000-2010. The rule is that each year gets one sentence.<br /><br />2000: Graduated from university for the first time.<br />2001: Dropped out of university for the first time and road-tripped across USA to see the lady for her birthday - realized our relationship might be serious.<br />2002: Got engaged.<br />2003: Graduated from university again, got married, and moved to Texas.<br />2004: Spent Thanksgiving remembering the Alamo.<br />2005: Ran first marathon<br />2006: Started working with current employer because I wanted to see the world.<br />2007: Became a Yukon Sour-Toe, crossed the the most northern border between USA and Canada, and swam with the turtles in Hawaii.<br />2008: Moved to Paris and ran marathon PR.<br />2009: Got pregnant (well not me - but I have been putting on the sympathy weight), survived living in the woods with the boys, and moved to Nigeria.<br />2010 (sneak peak): Become a dad!<br /><br />There you have it! Wham, bam, thank you ma'am!<br /><br />I hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season!<br /><br />Cheers!Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-66850414548864353182009-12-27T19:35:00.003+01:002009-12-27T19:55:53.492+01:00Dec. 27: Vivid dream and a little runningI had the most vivid dream on Christmas Eve. I dreamt that I was logging on to my email and I saw that I received an email from my lady. The subject of the email was, "So the baby is scheduled". I opened the email and read, "We are going in to have the baby on January 18 at 3- to 4- pm."<br /><br />Since I will not be arriving home until January 16 (and the baby is due on January 12) perhaps it is my sub-conscieous trying to will the baby to stay a little longer with mommy before I get home? (Jennie says that she is going to keep her legs crossed until I get home. I told her that if she kept her legs crossed in the first place then, perhaps, we would not be in this situation to begin with...!) Or perhaps I have crazy pyschic abilities?! I guess we will know in a few weeks!<br /><br />In other news I have actually done some running outside this past week. I am still trying to decide what I hate the least. The overwhelming heat and humidity of running outside in Nigeria, or the mind-numbing process of running on the treadmill. Anything that breaks up the daily routine of living in a "secure" (hmmmm....gaurded anyhow) place is good I suppose.<br /><br />I am authorized to do outdoor activity on Banana Island. It is almost exactly a 4 mile loop. I did 4 miles yesterday and 6 today. It has been a while since I have lived in Houston and my body is not at all used to working in these weather conditions. Well, who am I kidding - my body really isn't used to working at all these days!<br /><br />And here it is...(oh my goodness I thought he lost it)...a garmin image of my run today!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/SzeqzmED19I/AAAAAAAAC3E/BIKbLB8QGiA/s1600-h/Running+Banana+Island,+Lagos+12-27-2009.png"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419988479931307986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7XrqqVYces/SzeqzmED19I/AAAAAAAAC3E/BIKbLB8QGiA/s400/Running+Banana+Island,+Lagos+12-27-2009.png" /></a>Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-81761352934202490572009-12-23T06:29:00.003+01:002009-12-23T06:35:01.340+01:00Dec. 23: Man UpHmmm....if I am going to be a dad that any kid will actually take seriously, I better stop crying while watching movies such as Rocky Balboa....<br /><br />ps - Jennie is now full term! The baby is now just getting fat, growing hair, and chillaxing in his/her own personal VIP area.Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-48497483908683860582009-12-20T20:27:00.002+01:002009-12-20T20:45:04.964+01:00Dec. 20: Dear BabyDear Baby,<br /><br /> I have not yet met you, but I miss you deeply. Is it possible to miss someone that you have never met?<br /><br /> I have talked to you. You have heard my voice (hopefully over the hum of all of your mother's internal organs and internal processes). I have heard your heartbeat. I sounds strong and vibrant, just like daddy's. But I still wait anxiously for you to have a voice in the world. I cannot wait until you can talk to me. Before that day, I cannot wait to hear whatever gurgles and gargles that you want to share.<br /><br />Dear Baby,<br /><br /> You are already acting up. You are supposed to be "in place" by now. Your head is supposed to be down and you are supposed to be getting ready for your first ever journey. You will not be going far but for me it will be the most important journey of your life.<br /><br /> Instead of having your head down, you are a little lop-sided and your butt is sticking out and creating a little bulge in your mom's belly. If you ever get mad at me for disciplining you later in life, just remember that your mom was the first to spank you regularily.<br /><br />Dear Baby,<br /><br /> I apologize for not being able to call you by your name yet. Your mommy and I do not know yet if you are going to be a girl or a boy. Mommy wants a surprise and daddy wants whatever mommy wants.<br /><br /> Based on our difficulty in determining baby names, your mommy and I think that you will be a boy. We had no difficulty in coming up with a girl's name. Infact, we knew what it would be since this past summer. The boys name has been more problematic. For this reason we believe you will be a boy.<br /><br />Dear Baby,<br /><br /> Please keep your mom company for 4 days after you are supposed to enter this world. I will not be there to join you both until then. If you can do that for me I will not pester you for the first year of your life to say "daddy" before you say "mommy".<br /><br /> Although I am telling you to wait I really wish you would not. I cannot wait to see you.<br /><br />Your daddy.Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-69825286283555166552009-11-22T15:08:00.002+01:002009-11-22T15:25:39.735+01:00Nov. 22: Travelling RevelationThe best way to travel is with the one(s) that you love. If they are not available make sure you have a good book instead.<br /><br />ps - A got a few sympathetic comments and responses from my last post. So thank you for that. It was perhaps a little long for a post with such negative energy (sorry). I find that I really do not have an outlet to 'vent' or to express frustration. It is hard to vent to coworkers because I do not like bringing that kind of crap into the workplace. If I have to vent in french that will just add one more thing that I want to vent about, so that eliminates everyone else that I normally see every day. So, unfortunately for you guys who are reading this, you are my whippin' boys.<br /><br />As an update, I am finally out of Nigeria and in France. I spent all of yesterday walking around Paris. I had no particular destination in mind. I just wanted to enjoy the crisp autumn weather and the last remnants of the autumn colors. Currently I am really enjoying hi-speed internet in the hotel lobby. I never thought I would be so excited to see how quickly I can navigate the web!<br /><br />pps - My treadmill is working again. A couple of days after my last post I re-plugged it back in to try some troubleshooting on it that Landice had sent me. Before I started the troubleshooting the treadmill just started to magically work again. David a year ago would be trying to figure out exactly how this was possible and would spend endless amounts of time investigating. David today does not care and is just happy to be running! As an aside, the customer service and professionalism before, during, and after I have purchased the treadmill has been spectacular. Not only that, the treadmill is spectacular. I highly recommend them.<br /><br />ppps - If you had to choose to only have one type of meal every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? Your choices are breakfast, lunch/dinner, brunch, high tea, midnight snack, post workout recovery meal, or other.Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-59380996626822147242009-11-15T14:05:00.004+01:002009-11-15T15:43:34.902+01:00Nov. 15: Being optimistic is highly overatedToday is Sunday. Today I am supposed to be in Paris eating baguettes, adding 'eh' to the end (or 'le' infront) of english words that I do not know the translation of hoping that the French will magically understand what it is that I am saying, and drinking bitter over-priced coffee. Instead I am sitting in Nigeria, eating pickles straight out of the jar and convincing myself that it is a well balanced lunch. How did I get here? I think we need to start at the beginning...<br /><br />I woke up Friday morning with a airplane ticket in hand, full of optimism that by the end of the day I would be whisked off to Paris for the weekend. Then I was off to the south of France for a week, which would be followed by a journey back to Canada to see the Mrs, whom I have not seen since August. It was a blind optimism. I was still without my Passport.<br /><br />Since arriving in Nigeria, my passport has been travelling through the entrails of my company, the bowels of the French system, and the corruption of Nigerian authorities. To be honest, at any one time I could never precisely tell you where my passport was, what was being done to it, or if some political refugee was borrowing it and starting a new life in Canada. My passport was like the electron in Schrodingers atomic model - at any one time you may know the location of the electron, but not the speed, and visa versa (if I remember correctly).<br /><br />What made me think that I was going to get it back on Friday? Oh yes, because I was naive enough to believe the same people who told me that I should have had my passport over a week ago, that today was THE day. At any rate, I would not know for certain until 3:15 pm. I did not even bother packing as I left for work. If I REALLY was going to leave, I would just come home early, pack, and be on my way. (I remember that there used to be a time when travelling across the Atlantic, or Pacific for that matter, was a big deal that required a lot of planning. Now it feels no different than catching a bus across town, but I digress).<br /><br />Oops, I forgot a minor detail - even if I wanted to pack the night before, I could not. My power and phone were out all night. Sitting in my underwear in the dark, trying not to sweat, I contemplated the future and the probability that I would leave the next day. My optimism on Friday morning stems from my own positive power of persuasion on myself (self hypnosis perhaps...is that possible?).<br /><br />Back to Friday. I am not superstitous by any measure but when HR hung up on me when I called them in the morning to get a status report of my liklihood of travel that day I recalled that it was Friday the 13th.<br /><br />Like the great Salt Lake, my optimism was high as though a rainy season had refilled the reservoir but it was starting to receed quickly, leaving crystals of doubt. By the time 3:15 rolled around a thick sheet of salt was all that was left of what was once a great sea of optimism. I started to shift my plans to going to play poker instead with some co-workers.<br /><br />After work I was greated by a hot and stuffy home still without power, phone, or water. There goes everything in the fridge. No worries - I did not really have much since I was preparing to be leaving for 3 weeks anyways. So, maybe I will just go early to Poker night, drink someone else's beer and win big - that will turn things around, no?<br /><br />Oh what's that, mantatory evacuation from the flat to the Eko hotel? Let's go. Oh what's that, heavy traffic - it will take over an hour to get there? Sure, whatever. Oh what's that, you could care less now about poker night because now the thought of speaking French all night just seems like extra unnessary stress?<br /><br />Unlike Friday, I woke up on Saturday a little grumpy. I had the night to sleep off my initial disappointment of not leaving but now I was grumpy because I had an 'optional' meeting that night at work at 7pm. What?!! Back the truck up...did I just read that correctly?! Although it was an 'optional' meeting, a second meeting had been planned for Sunday in case this one conflicted with your schedule. I figured I had to go because I would not be surprised if roll-call was going to be taken. So, what to do until then?<br /><br />I would like make a brief interlude in this dismal story to say that brunch at the hotel was fantastic! I do plan on going back some weekend just for brunch.<br /><br />After brunch, I waited 1.5 hours for the shuttle to take me back to my flat (with power and water now - still no phone). Then I waited another 2 hours for a car to come pick me up to go grocery shopping. Then I got stuck in traffic for 1.5 hours on the way to the store. The store itself was packed - not with shoppers, but with locals who had gathered around the tv showing the Nigerian soccer match - big day, they qualified for the world cup!<br /><br />Normally I go to the local pub if I want to watch the big games with my team. Going to the grocery store to watch my boys vie for the Stanley cup has never before popped up on my radar. I am sure it will now - "Hey man! Big game tonight! Let's go have some beers and watch it! Sure, but we better get to Krogers quick - all the best spots next to the broccoli and cucumbers fill up quick!"<br /><br />I got home just in time to squeeze in a quick run on the treadmill before getting picked up for the 'optional' meeting. Well, I thought I was going to go for a run until it became clear that the treadmill's motor got a little cooked from all of the power issues of the previous day. Earmuffs - Insert your favorite 15 swear words here ___ ___ ___ __ ___ __ __ __ __ ___ __ __ __ __ __. I am optimistic that I will be able to get it fixed. As you may recall, I was also optimistic on Friday morning and we all see how that has worked out for me.<br /><br />Before leaving for the meeting I slipped a bottle of Reisling into the fridge to get chilled. "You and me are getting drunk tonight," I informed it as I left.<br /><br />To my 'joy' the meeting was held all in French and finished past 10pm. What struck me as odd, was that I was the only person who seemed to think that it was strange and inappropriate for a company to have a meeting at this time. I find it odd that companies talk about the relationship of corporate values, personal values, and family values and how important it is to nourrish these values. Then on your one free night of the week to really let loose and to call your own, they take you away from your family to meet in the boardroom to discuss strategy.<br /><br />But why was I the only one who seemed to have an issue with this? That is the more scary question. Or, perhaps with all of my waiting around this weekend I have nearly read all of George Orwell's 1984 and my brain is looking around me at the conformity, uniformity, and the inability for people to say no when 'big brother' demands things. At what point in time will I just start accepting this type of thing from the company with no questions asked? It seems that there are a great many people who are like that. It is sad. Seeing it yesterday was really scary. It even made me forget a little about the treadmill.<br /><br />Arriving home I went straight to the bottle, cut the foil, and was greeted by a moldy cork. "No worries," I thought. "I have been to the caves of Moet & Chandon Champagne and there was loads of mold and things growing down there. This should not be a problem." The mold ran pretty deep into the cork, which was not snug in the bottle. In fact, I pulled the cork out with my hands. I took one sip and quickly decided that I was more in the mood for some red w(h)ine tonight anyways.<br /><br />I started to screw into the cork of the red wine and started producing copious amounts of sawdust. The cork was dehydrated beyond recognition. I am no wine expert, but that was definitely a skunky bottle. So, I went back to the white and decided that alcoholic vinegar was not so bad afterall.<br /><br />I fell asleep on the couch thinking that I can only go up....or sideways, from here.<br /><br />Sunday has been an upward progression. It was a big morning for me - I ran outside! I ran from my flat, around Banana Island and back. The heat was stiffling, but boy did it feel good to be out running! My biggest issue was with my lungs. Normally my lungs feel like they are burning and ready to explode. Today they felt like they were drowning and in desperate need of a life raft. All in all I ran 45 minutes and walked 45 minutes (I walked home).<br /><br />While running I could feel the eyes of everyone watching me from a distance and then piercing through the back of my head as I continued past. I felt as I have always imagined the President would feel when running with his entourage and the media following him. Living in Houston I always thought that it would be cool to lay out a threshold run during such instances (if I were the president that is) and then watch them talk about how greasy fast I was (for a president) on all the major news networks!<br /><br />There were a few other runners out there too....it appears as though I have opened a new and interesting chapter here in Lagos. If my treadmill had not broken down I never would have discovered this. Oh oh, there I go with that optimism again...Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-74295954015325502192009-11-03T06:40:00.005+01:002009-11-03T21:35:42.697+01:00Nov. 3: Restless NightsLately I have been having very restless nights. The type of nights where you are dead asleep for a short interval, wake up, roll around for a little bit, then repeat many, many times until the alarm sounds (and out of pure habit I will still hit snooze after a night like this...what's the point of that?). Normally when I am sleeping by myself (and I am not talking about when I have to sleep on the couch because I am in the dog house with Jennie!) I sleep on my normal side of the bed and wake up pretty much in the same position. Normally I only only disturb about 2 feet of the covers on the side that I am sleeping on while the rest of the bed looks as it did before I went to sleep. I think this is a result of marriage - before I got married I used to fall asleep in a spread eagle position lying in the middle of the bed - the whole bed was used (Well, the whole bed was used during the honeymoon too, but I digress...). But now I have been "trained" to sleep on my side of the bed.<br /><br />Maybe it is because I have been gone for so long now (too long) that I have started to fall back into my old habits. I am waking up with my head where my feet should be, my arm hanging off the bed, and a lagoon of drool collecting in my ear. But the thing that gets me are the dreams I have been having. I am not sure what to make of this last one...<br /><br />It starts off with me back in Houston (I think...I am not sure - but everyone from Houston was there). Actually, to be clear I am at some Strider running event. But my focus is on my main man JD who is making fun of me because I am actually skinnier than he is (in my dream). But I remember being confused because I did not know if that meant that I lost weight or if he grew a fat ass like mine.<br /><br />So, then we took off running - we were both really excited because I had just returned from Africa and this was our first run together. But before I knew it, all the Striders were passing me like I was standing still. By now my main man JD was long gone. They kept looking at me surprised but nobody said anything to me.<br /><br />"Why I am so slow?!" I cried.<br /><br />Then off in the distance I recognized JD's voice yelling at me, "Because you run slow on a treadmill."<br /><br />(As an interlude, this part of the dream clearly comes from my 3 weeks of treadmill running at an 8:00 min/mile pace. I am convinced that the pace on a treadmill is much faster than the equivalent pace outside. If I try to run my usual 'easy' pace of 7:15-7:30 min/mile I feel like my legs are about to spin off.)<br /><br />All I remember after this is walking around confused until I come up to a bridge over the ocean (long bridge I guess) with no railings and I see JD and the rest of the Striders running towards the edge of the bridge. At the last second JD realizes that there is no railing and turns to warn the others. Before he has a chance to alert the others the momentum of the herd (imagine a Buffalo jump here) throws him and everyone else into the ocean.<br /><br />So - before anyone gives me a hard time for having a dream with my buddy in it know this - in that same dream I killed him! (Sorry dude).<br /><br />On another note, the longer I live by myself, the less utensils I use. I think I am turning back into a caveman. Just as Darwin went to the Galapagos Islands to discover evolution, I have come to Nigeria to discover anti-evolution.<br /><br />I also saw yesterday a huge running group run by my apartment. I would have ran out and joined them if I was not on my work shuttle at the time. I must find out who these people are (I believe they are the Hash House Harriers...I have been told that they have a presence here).Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248267046478202362.post-2696515710286249642009-10-25T17:46:00.003+01:002009-10-25T22:33:42.652+01:00Oct. 25: DilemmaOk, first before I start this blog I have to pay tribute to the number one dad in the world (well, until January at least!!) and wish my dad a very happy 64th birthday! I really wish I could be home to celebrate it with you dad.<br /><br /><br />This weekend was a bit of a strange one. My car got hit by a motorcycle taxi, or 'Okada' as they call them here. The Okada T-boned me just behind the rear wheel on the driver's side. So, I guess you could say that it was more of a passing glance but it did result in 3 grown men scattered across the road. My driver got out, felt and rubbed the newly formed 'ding' while still cursing at the men who were busy evaluating their road rash - still on the ground. Then he jumped back in the car and we drove away. The reason the Okada hit us in the first place was because they were trying to avoid the cops. So the cops were right there and they could care less that they just witnessed a motor bike accident. Hit 'n run Nigeria style I guess. (Note to self - try not to create too many bad habits while in Nigeria. What is normal here will surely put me in jail back home.) I wonder if those guys are all right?<br /><br /><br />In other news, Precious has passed her one month trial period (durn, has it been that long already?) and I decided that she is a keeper. But this is where my dilemma begins. I had her drop by on Saturday to have her sign her contract and to pay her for her first month. Now, I made the contract out to "Mrs. Precious", which kind of reminds me of those Mr. Men books you read as a kid like Mr Grumpy, Mr Happy, etc. But that is normal here in Nigeria - everyone is Mr or Mrs then whatever their first name is. So far so good. The problem is when she signed the contract - it turns out that her name is NOT Precious afterall. WHAT?!! Yes, I knew it was too good to be true - her name is, in fact, Patience. She must be patient to have put up with me calling her by the wrong name all this time.<br /><br />But I am really puzzled - how did I get her name wrong all this time? She was introduced to me by my French neighbours who, of course, have an accent so I can see how if they introduced me to her as Mrs. Patience how it could have sounded like Mrs Precious. However, I remember being so struck by the name that I repeated it several times as "Precious" to confirm that I heard correctly. I distinctly remember doing this - wouldn't you if someone was introduced to you as Precious and she was not a working at a "gentlemen's club"?<br /><br />Now I have been calling her Precious all this time. At first I felt a little creepy, which is documented in an earlier blog, but then I got over it realizing that it is just her name. But it is not her name - what has she been thinking all this time?? I JOKED that it felt wrong to be calling her what to me felt like a little pet name. But to her I WAS calling her a little pet name. I might as well have been calling her "babe" or "darling" all this time. Yikes!<br /><br />So the dilemma is what do I call her now? It is kind of like that guy in the office that you always see at functions and meetings and talk to all the time but you have no clue who he is because you really have never been introduced - it is always just sort of assumed that you know each other. After a while you just cannot introduce yourself because you have gone beyond that point. So instead you spend an hour on the company directory trying to covertly figure out his name so you don't look lame by finally admitting that you have no clue.<br /><br />So do I keep calling her Precious, which she responds quite favorably to? Or do I switch covertly to Patience and hope she does not really notice? (but how would she not notice someone calling her two different names? I would notice!) Or do I talk to her about it? That option is a little scary because what if she tells me that she wants me to call her Precious?! Now that I know that it is not her real name, I really would feel creepy calling her it. All I need now is a thin, upper lip moustache, tight pants, and gold chains to make the image complete.<br /><br />I also have to confess that I am really disappointed that her name is not Precious. Precious just had the "Wow" factor to it when you told people about her. And now, oddly, Patience just seems too normal of a name. One thing is for sure, she certainly lives up to her name by letting me call her Precious all this time!<br /><br />Maybe I will refer to her as "the nanny formerly known as Precious"?Minkenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08275933631723258846noreply@blogger.com1