Krakow (Part 1)

The trip started out a wreck, as do most things that JM and I do together.  We got up at 4:30, after less than 5 hours of sleep, ate a quick breakfast, and headed out the door.  We walked to the metro, took the red line two stops, changed to the blue line, took the blue line 6 stops, and got off the metro.  The travel agent said we need to go to the bus station once we get off the metro at this stop, so we walk upstairs to look for the bus station.  The stairs open into a huge, bright building lined with benches--the bus station.  It’s surrounded by huge charter buses, so it looks like we’ll be riding in style.  Way too easy.  We look on the board and see our bus leaves at 6:15 instead of 6:00, so we sit down and close our eyes for a bit, since we’re about half an hour early.  The bus finally pulls up and we wait in line to get on.  As I walk onto the bus, I had my ticket to the driver, who is checking the tickets, and he says something in Hungarian.  “I’m sorry?” I say.  “Wrong bus line.  You want one by stadium,” he replies, and points across the street.  Dammit!  I step off the bus and we look across the street to see, what is probably our bus, driving away.  We go underground and across the street anyway.  We come up the stairs to a dark street corner.  The building that is the other “bus station” isn’t open.  It’s not lit.  There are no buses around.  We stand confused for a few minutes until another bus pulls up.  People suddenly pile out of cars and appear from the shadows, and board the bus.  We are now sure that we missed our bus.  We head back home and decide to straighten it out after a little more sleep.

When we get up JM calls the bus line, only to find out that there isn’t another bus going to Krakow for 3 days.  He walks about half a mile to the train station near our place and books us on the night train to Krakow.  We have a small lunch, nap a little, have dinner, and then, to prepare for the long train ride and to help wash the morning away, we kill a bottle of Johnnie Walker.  We get to the train station nearly an hour early (we’re not taking any chances) and the alcohol has definitely kicked in.  A homeless man hassles JM for a cigarette and some money.  Being drunk, JM isn’t in the mood for speaking Hungarian, so he replies in English.  We’re drunk, so for some reason we get a kick out of the pantomiming and five-or-so English words this guy knows.  Anytime he says a Hungarian word that reminds me of an English word, I start talking to him about it in English.  A girl standing near us can understand both sides of the conversation and can’t stop laughing.  JM gives the guy a cigarette and 300 forint, and we get on the train.  Already round two is getting off to a better start, or at least the alcohol makes it seem that way.  We chat with  the Aussies a couple doors down from us for a bit, and then settle into our little bunks.  I must say, a train isn’t a terrible way to travel overnight, if you get to lay down.  The bunks were actually more comfortable than my “bed” in Budapest, which says nothing about the comfort of the train and EVERYTHING about how uncomfortable my bed is.  We both sleep fitfully¾nodding off when the train is rolling and waking up when it jars to a stop at the stations.

We get to Krakow just after 6:30 in the morning.  We magically pick the right direction to walk from the train station and end up in the huge market square in the city center.  It’s an interesting and unique experience to be walking the streets of a new city as the sun is coming up, and before most of the people who actually live there are out and about.  We walk  around the square and window-shop.  We check out St. Mary’s Basilica, which is in one corner of the square.  We take a small side street away from the square and come to a big park.  We learn that the wide green space circles the entire city center, and is where the main wall used to stand.  We walk back into the center and find a little café that is open early (7:30.  Everything else opens at 9) and go in for cappuccino.  Warm and awake, we head back out to start taking everything in.  We hit up all the usual tourist stuff (the market square, the city center, the churches, the statues in the green space).  We find a little restaurant and eat brunch (potato pancakes and goulash).  We walk up the hill to see the castle and it’s church.  There’s a massive marble courtyard in the middle.  We walk down the hill to the Dragon’s Den.  We walk along the river.  I’m not going to go into much detail since I have pictures and this post is going to be massive already.

At this point it’s late enough in the afternoon that we can check into our hotel.  It’s only supposed to be 4 kilometers from the city center, so we decide to walk it.  JM has directions and after about 15 minutes of walking, we situate ourselves enough to head to the street we need.  We walk for about 45 minutes and end up where the Google directions sent us.  Unfortunately, our hotel is not there.  We ask around and most people just give us confused looks.  We sort of get directions from a guy who doesn’t speak any English.  He writes down a new street name, so we feel like we’re back on track.  We think he says that it’s just down the road about 800 meters.  We get there and not only is there no hotel, but the street that he has written down for us isn’t there either.  We walk around for a bit and still can’t figure it out.  We find another guy who roughly tells us that we have to take the bus, but we think we should be close and he doesn’t seem too sure about it, so we walk around some more.  We cover the entire neighborhood one more time before we ask another lady.  She doesn’t speak English at all, but gives us very specific directions to go straight two stoplights and then go right.  We walk in that direction and finally come to a part of town that looks like it might actually have a hotel.  We see a taxi, give up, and get in.  He drives us directly to our hotel…on the other side of the city center!  The directions Google maps gave us were at least 10-15 kilometers off.  After nearly 2 hours of walking, we’ve made it.

Finally at our hotel we spend a little time taking naps or showers.  We kill just a couple hours there before we head out to meet up with Ewa (Eva, for all you Americans).  We met her through CouchSurfing.com.  She seemed very nice, invited us to dinner at her place, and said we could hang out with her and her two friends who were in town.  We get there and she tells us to make ourselves at home.  Already the beautiful little apartment smells like delicious food.  We chat for just a few minutes before her other two friends show up; Andre from Romania, and Karolina who is from Krakow originally but lives in London.  We start in on one of the four bottles of wine (we all brought some) and jump right into the conversation.  Ewa is finishing preparing the meal, Karolina makes a salad and then makes birds out of the napkins for the table.  After dinner we finish off all the wine and catch the last tram to the Jewish district.  Ewa takes us to a bar, which I believe was called the Singer or Singers.  I don’t remember exactly,  but most of the tables were made out of old Singer sewing machines.  It was a cool little place and was pretty mellow when we got there.  They bought us hot beer, a shot of some special Polish drink that was absolutely toxic, hot honey wine, more hot beer…  By our second drinks (third if you include the shot, sixth or seventh if you include the wine), there was a drunk couple attempting to dance in the middle of the bar.  They were barely doing a good job of even standing up, but no one seemed to be bothered by them at all.  In fact, everyone there seemed to just be having a great time.  We had been drinking a lot and went from zero to drunk pretty quickly.  The next thing I know, most of the people in the bar are dancing, including our group.  At one point, Ewa and Karolina even end up dancing on a table.  Eventually we leave the bar but I think I left my camera so Andre and I go back in.  We search for a few minutes before I find it in my coat pocket.  We get back outside and, somehow end up in a cab, and then somehow end up at the hotel.  We stumble out, slurring goodbyes, drag ourselves into our hotel room and pass out at nearly 4am.

This is the second time in a few months that I’ve done drunk goodbyes, and I must say I hate it.  The same thing happened at my going away party.  I got drunk and stumbled out of there to walk home, just like I would at any other party.  None of the goodbyes were very heartfelt, and I even forgot a few people because they were passed out or I just didn’t remember they were there.  Same thing here, I didn’t get to fully express my gratitude and appreciation for the good time we were shown by these great people, and I regret that a little bit.

This thing is getting pretty long, so I guess the rest of it will have to wait for the next post.

Thermal Baths

Yesterday JM and I went to the Király Baths.  Here's a little history first: Hungary sits on one of the largest resources of geothermal water in the world.  Of the approximately 1300 thermal springs registered in Hungary, about 300 are used for "bathing" purposes and about 130 of those are located in Budapest.  The Turkish ruler of Buda started building the Király Baths in 1565 (which was finished in 1570), just inside what was then the Castle gates.  He wanted to make sure that, in the event of an invasion, the Turks could still bathe.  Some of these baths were only for men as recently as 2007, and even now there are only certain days when women are allowed to go.


OK, so here's the story:  JM and I decide to have a little relaxation before our trip to Krakow (a little relaxation before our relaxation?).  We went to the Király Baths, and as soon as you walk in you can smell the sulfur.  We paid at the front desk and went upstairs.  Once upstairs you walk into what is essentially a locker room that had sex with a dressing room.  The man at the door hands you a "towel" that much more resembles a thick bed sheet in size and thickness, and, what I can only refer to as a "junk apron."  This is essentially a thin white piece of cloth about the size of an unfolded napkin, with two very long strings attached at one end, which you use to tie it around your waist; it's a loincloth.  Oh, and it's white, so it's pretty much useless as soon as it's wet.  We were there on a mens only day, so the entire experience had a very locker room feel.  


Anyway, you go into one of the dressing rooms and change into your loincloth.  When you come out there is a guy with a bunch of keys.  There is one key in the door, which you use to lock the door and then tie to your loincloth, and then he uses a key to lock the other lock to the door and your stuff is safe.  We walk through the locker room, making sure to walk exactly side by side so we don't have to see each other's butts (we do still have to live together).  We head down a couple flights of spiral stairs, and the entire time the smell of sulfur (from the water) gets stronger.  Once at the bottom the air is so thick with it that it's like eating a sulfur/air sandwich.  There are showers at the bottom of the stairs, which you must use before you get in the baths.  You walk down a short hallway and it opens into a large domed room with a giant octagonal pool in the center.


We went in and sat on the second stair, which let the water come up to my neck.  The dome of the room is dotted with small circular windows in a concentric circular pattern.  There are a handful of other guys there, most of whom are older gentlemen, but a couple who looked about 40 and one other guy who looked to be in his late 20's.  There wasn't much talking going on, and what we did hear was mostly in low voices.  After just a short time in the main pool, I realized that the water wasn't really hot, but more like warm bathwater.  JM went to test out the other two smaller square pools, located around the edge of the main pool.  He dips a foot in the first one, turns around and shakes his head no.  He goes to the other one and gets in.


When he returns he says that the first one is cold, and the other one is very hot.  I venture over to the hot one.  After 10 minutes I come back to the main pool which, in contrast, feels cool now.  We sit for a little while longer before JM decides to check out the steam room.  This is when stuff gets weird.  While he is gone, two guys have gotten quite close.  One is laying face-up with his neck on the edge of the pool, almost floating.  This was the younger guy.  The other guy was at a weird angle to him and I was pretty sure there was some inappropriate touching going on, however, none of the other guys seemed to notice.  


Upon JM's return, my suspicions were confirmed.  Not only did he say he thought the two guys I saw were up to something fishy, but he said there was some questionable stuff going on in the steam room.  Of course, he said the steam room was crazy and I had to check it out.  We go in the steam room and it's amazing.  I've never been in one before, but it's just oppressively hot and humid.  After being in there for about 5 minutes I came to the realization that the water dripping off of my body  wasn't because I was just in the pool, but it was because I was sweating profusely.  We're in there for maybe 10 minutes before we leave again.


When we come back out, the main room has become a fondle-fest.  The two guys from before have moved to the other side of the pool and one is unabashedly fondling the other one.  There is a  group of three older men, two sitting against the side facing the middle of the pool, the other standing between them facing the edge of the pool; he's fondling both of them at the same time.  When one of them leaves, another  guy floats up to the other two and starts very gently stroking the face of one of the men, while positioning himself for some of the action.  I'm sure I was wide-eyed, because I wasn't expecting this.  Sure, I had steeled myself against seeing old, flabby men in nothing but a loincloth.  I had also steeled myself against the guy doing a weird naked spa workout, and sure enough, there was one.  I had not, however, expected blatant sex acts in the middle of a public bath.  There were only a couple of other guys in there who seemed to be caught off guard as well.  We decide to call it a day.


That was by far the craziest thing that has happened in Budapest.  While searching for the information in the first paragraph, I found many reviews of the baths, most of which had something or other about the Király Baths being "the gay one."  Now you know.  In two hours we leave for Krakow to explore a new city for a few days and meet up with some random internet people.  I'll be back in a few days with my blog on the trip.

Christmas Market

I had a pretty good weekend; I got a job offer, a phone call from my mom and grandma, and I finally made it to the Christmas market.  Yesterday I got a Christmas card from my grandma as well.  My family will be sad to hear about the job offer because it means that I can afford to stay here until June.  It will be nice to be able to afford to do a little traveling.  Krakow in a week, and (tentatively) Rome in February and Geneva in April.  However,  I just found out we're only a train ride from the area of Romania know as Transylvania.  That's right, just 500 kilometers from Dracula's castle.  I think that calls for a weekend trip for sure.  I mean, this is the real deal, not that "Twilight" B.S.  Anyway, it was nice to talk to mom and grandma.  It's difficult being away for the holidays, so it's nice to hear some familiar voices and get caught up with how the family is doing.

From what I understand, there are a couple of different Christmas markets in Budapest, but I went to one of the bigger ones at Vörösmarty tér. There are a bunch (50-75) of little log booths set up in a huge square in the middle of the shopping district. Some are serving foods, such as meats, vegetables, hot wine, baked goods, etc. It smells like a delicious version of the state fair. Others are selling various hand-made wares, such as dolls, wooden chess sets, metal ornaments and candle holders (made on-site by a real-life burly blacksmith), pottery, glassware, etc. It is quite a neat experience, but I can't help but feel that it's at least partially a show put on for tourists.

We finally got snow here today. To be fair, there were flurries the other day, but they didn't stick. Today we got maybe a quarter to half inch. By late afternoon it had mostly melted from the streets and sidewalks though. It's finally getting cold here (below zero degrees Celsius), but I'm getting conflicting stories on what to expect of the weather. Some people tell me that in recent years it hasn't snowed that much, others tell me that they've heard we're in for a lot more snow this winter. Weather here is a guessing game, just like anywhere else in the world. I guess some things never change. I don't start my job until the new year. 2010. I can hardly believe it. It seems so futuristic every time I say it. Anyway, JM and I will be visiting Krakow soon, so I should have some good stories and pictures from that trip. I hope that wherever this blog post finds you, you are well.


-E

Glimpses

Today I walked outside into the cool autumn air.  The sky was blue and there were thin wisps of clouds sailing by overhead.

There is a guy who lives on our floor by the stairs.  Occasionally he’s sitting on a chair outside his door, enjoying a cigarette and a cup of coffee.  We always exchange, “hallo’s.”  He never smiles.

There’s a gumball machine by the front door of the little corner store down the block from our apartment.  I’ve never seen anyone use it.

Sometimes when I’m walking through the city I try to guess if people speak English as their native language, just by looking at  them.

Being here has been difficult at times, but it has helped me straighten some things out in my head in a way in which I can’t quite explain.

The Christmas lights along Andrassy Utca are on now and it makes the city seem more warm and inviting.  It’s getting cold here, but it doesn’t feel like it.  Not having to deal with the wind makes the temperature deceiving.

The streets are narrow and I feel like I’m always in the shade.  That’s not a metaphor.

The lady in the apartment next to ours is listening to opera music and doing a fair job at singing along, although at a considerably lower octave.

The city is still not familiar to me, but I don’t feel lost here anymore.

I went to the National Theatre a couple days ago.  It was another wonderful day when I started out, but it seems to always get cloudy, and thus cold, in the early afternoon.  The sun sets by about 4 and leaves me longing for the drawn-out days of summer.  The weather has been mild, and it still doesn’t feel like winter yet.  I’m sure it’s coming.  I hear there’s a winter market set up somewhere in town, and I think I’ll go look for it sometime soon.  But I digress.  The National Theatre has some crazy architecture.  It looks almost as though the entire building is sitting on a boat in the water and the water spills over the edges.  The edges start by the building, as if it’s the base of a triangle, and meet at a point in front of the boat.  The cool thing about this is that the water just trickles over the edges near the building, but once you get to the point the water is rushing over the edge and roaring the small lion’s roar of a miniature waterfall  transplanted in the middle of this urban jungle.  They also kept a wall from the original theatre before they tore it down to build the new one, and it’s laying in the water next to the boat.  There are a few statues sporadically dotting the grassy landscape in front of the building as well.  Johnmark told me I should go check it out, and I’m glad I did.

Click here to see all the photos

Today I gave my first lesson to a student I picked up to tutor.  She’s a senior in high school and is applying to colleges in the US.  She speaks English pretty fluently, but mostly wants help with her written grammar and punctuation for her college application essays.  She’s cool, and the lesson went well.  I made six grand (in forint) for an hour and a half, and actually doing a little “work” left me feeling productive for the rest of the day.  I might get to tutor her mom as well, so things are definitely looking up on the job front.  JM and I decided to celebrate by getting groceries and eating crazy Hungarian food.  I tried some lo kolbasz (horse sausage).  Yeah, you read that right, horse sausage.  It tasted like…sausage.  Surprise!

Cheers!
-E

Chat

The other day I was talking to a friend online. I said I was, “hanging in there,” when asked how I was doing, and she asked why. When I explained my situation of not having a job because I got here too late and all the teaching positions were already filled, and that I am living on savings, she seemed concerned, but I told her I wasn’t too worried about it. That I was rolling with the punches. She called me crazy for not being worried, and I think she legitimately meant it. She told me not to spend my ticket money because that would be tragic. I confessed that I don’t actually have the money to buy a ticket home and that I’ll have to wait for my US tax return before I can come back. She replied with, “I hope you learned a lesson.” She logged off before I got a chance to ask her how she meant that or to reply to it. I think that statement makes a lot of assumptions about the state in which I’m living. I feel like the only mistake that I made was not securing a job instead of just interviews before I moved, but I‘m not even sure that was a mistake. I don’t think I’ve screwed up. I’m not stuck in Europe with no money and no way to get home. I’m not going to have to call home in a state of distress and ask my mom to bail me out and get me a ticket so I can come back. I have enough money to live on, although I do have to live frugally, but that’s something that I’m used to. I can’t come home immediately, but I will be able to return to the states and I’ll be able to do it by my own means. Life has no guarantees. Had I waited until I had a job, I’d still be in Nebraska and probably would have never lived in Europe. I’m not going to go home and regret this experience, even if I never get a job, have to go home earlier than expected, and use all of the money I have in the process. This is probably a once in a lifetime chance for me and, had I not jumped at the opportunity, I would have missed it. Oddly enough, instead of making me worried about my decision, it only reinforced it. It made me realize how lucky I am to have this opportunity, even if things aren’t going as planned because, what does go as planned, really?

Euro Thanksgiving

Thursday was Thanksgiving in America - here everything went on as usual. I decided to fill my day with a trip to Gellert Hill. I’m pretty sure the hill is one of the highest points in Budapest, and it’s famous for a couple of reasons, most notably the death of Saint Gerard. Saint Gerard was killed there by pagans during the great pagan rebellion, which I believe was in 1046. There are two versions of the story; one is that he was thrown down the hill and then, being found still alive, was beaten to death. The other version is that he was PLACED IN A BARREL WITH SPIKES AND ROLLED DOWN THE HILL! That’s awesome, in the crazy and disturbing sense of the word. Anyway, there’s a statue of him on the side of the hill. Another thing the Gellert Hill is famous for is the Liberty Statue on the top of the hill. The statue was placed there to commemorate the Soviet liberation of Hungary from the Nazis during WWII. The statue is still there, but the Russian soldiers were removed from the base of the statue after the Hungarians transitioned from Communist rule to a more Democratic form of government.

Gellert Hill is quite steep and is crisscrossed with trails - switchbacks that lead up to the statue on the side of the hill and eventually to the Liberty Statue on the top. You can go right up to the statue of Saint Gerard, but since it faces away from the hill towards the Danube, the view isn’t that much better once you’re there. In fact, the best view of the statue is probably from the Bridge in front of the statue. I trudged up to the top to see the Liberty Statue and get a great view of the city. I knew Budapest was big, but was surprised when I got a good look at the Buda side for the first time and realized how far it stretched out. Something that struck me as interesting is the fact that there are no skyscrapers in this big city. The tallest buildings here are probably about 10 stories tall. I guess when you don’t stack people on top of one another, a city must become sprawling by necessity. Anyway, it made me feel just a little smaller to realize that the city in which I now live is twice as big as I thought it was.

Saint Gerard

the Liberty Statue

View of the Buda side.

View of the Pest side,

Last night we had, “orphan Thanksgiving.” We got together with a small group of Americans who are currently either living or studying in Budapest, and we had a wonderful dinner. Everyone brought a dish (or two) and a bottle of wine. All of the food was delicious and I had a good time sitting around and chatting with everyone. I really am thankful for this experience - not only for the opportunity to be living in and experiencing Europe, but also for the experience of getting to have a “Thanksgiving” with some good people. The actual holiday passed with barely a notice but it wasn’t until sitting down to dinner last night that I realized that, even though the holiday snuck by me, it still managed to leave a small void that needed to be filled. The wonderful food and great conversations definitely did just that. I hope the same can be said for all of you. Take care of yourself and each other.

Cheers!

E

Simple and honest.

Thursday I found my way to the huge cemetery that’s about 2 kilometers from our place. I do not consider myself a photographer by any means, but everything about that day came together so perfectly that I could hardly take a bad picture. It’s a strange feeling to walk through a graveyard as a tourist - not being there to mourn or remember, but just simply to stand in awe of the sadness and the beauty of the gravestones and the breathtaking monuments. The sun rolled in and out from behind the clouds as the leaves shuffled and crinkled beneath my feet. Fall has dipped the leaves in reds and golds, and softly blanketed the ground and gravestones with the ones that were dry, leaving the ones that were still wet hanging out to dry. This, more than any other thing since I’ve been here, reminded me of home. The cemetery is enormous, and parts of it feel as though you’ve stepped out of the city and into the woods - with more trees and overgrowth than gravestones. Here are just a few of the pictures:

Friday I had a job interview. I had directions to where I was going, but somehow I missed a street and ended up getting a little lost. The big problem was that the street I was looking for didn’t go through to the other major streets and was only two blocks long before the name changed. I ended up pretty much walking in circles around the periphery of where I needed to be. I finally used my very limited Hungarian to ask a doorman if he spoke English and then asked him where the street was. I was nearly a half an hour late to the interview, but the guys were very understanding.

That night we went to the ballet at the Hungarian State Opera House with a huge group of people. We were in the cheap seats, which wouldn’t have been that bad if we had been in the center, but we were off to the side where we could only see about 70% of the stage. I don’t know enough about ballet to speak definitively, but it seemed pretty “modern.” It was quite interesting and beautiful, but the best part was that, even though we were in the highest seats, we were still close enough to see that the performers were breathing heavily. I think it’s impressive that they can make such precise movements look so fluid and easy when they are actually working that hard.

Today JM and I went to a friend’s house to help him film a video for an internet contest. He’s a great mandola player and we ended up recording a song for the video. Levi played mandola, JM played mandolin, and I played bass. The video is pretty funny but being able to play bass for a couple of hours was the best way to spend an afternoon. Playing felt like home - like waking up in my own bed and knowing my way around the streets. It felt like slipping on my favorite hoodie. It felt good.

On our way home we stopped a vegetarian Humus restaurant. I had a huge plate of…stuff. I’m not sure what most of it was, but I do know that I had falafel for the first time in my life and it was pretty delicious. Their humus was really good too and I’m pretty sure they make their own pita bread. Tasty.

Tomorrow I plan on going to Margit island if it’s nice out. If I’m lucky a lovely girl might take me to her gym during “family” hour so I can do a swim workout. I haven’t done a workout of any kind since the marathon a month ago. This may be a new record for me and, consequently, I’m going a little stir crazy. At this point I honestly don’t know if I’m more excited about being able to workout or about getting to go with this very sweet girl. There’s also a good chance that this won’t happen, so I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

JM and I are going to have dinner at the Café in The New York Palace on Tuesday. Fancy. Other than that, I don’t have any plans for this week. You can be sure that I’ll be reading and writing, as always. I should probably find some other cool stuff to explore in Budapest too. We really need to decide where we’re going on our trip next month. I think Oslo would be cool, but we might end up in Belgrade because it’s close. We’ll see. I’ll keep you up to speed.

Cheers!

-E

Fall

To be honest, there are good days - days when I barely think of home unless I'm reminded by something or someone - and bad days, during which I waste my idle time by daydreaming of home and attempting to plan the future I might want to carve out for myself when I return. A friend of JM's sent us a bunch of photographs she took of Nebraska. I know that this is a great experience, and the fact that I get to share it with one of my best friends only makes it that much better, but on days like today - days when it is overcast and the rain spits and mists incessantly - I can't help but stare at these photos of trees exploding firecracker red and gold to celebrate the coming of fall. I can't help but stare and feel a little jealous. We're going to cover one wall in the apartment with the pictures; a sort of shrine to "The Good Life."

Last weekend we hung out with a group of awesome (and crazy - "of course we have weed!") Romanians and a few Hungarians. I met a guy named Zoltan. Seriously. I tried Palinka which, as far as I can tell after drinking it, is probably Hungarian for jet fuel. We took the bus without paying. We drank. We played some guitar. Sebe tried to get us to move from the kitchen to the living room, where there was more room for everyone to sit and hang out. I didn't know how to tell him that standing in a kitchen and drinking with people made it feel like home. Luckily, no one paid any attention to him. We hung out. We drank. Sebe wouldn't let me pay him for the alcohol JM and I drank; he's a good guy. We walked home. Could have mistaken it for a good night in Lincoln.

As for the rest of this week: tomorrow I'm going to walk to either the National Museum or the huge cemetery near our place. JM and I, along with a large group of people, are going to the ballet this Friday. Here is the link to what we're going to see: http://www.xpatloop.com/news/62876. Luckily I've already read the book, so I'll have a better sense of what's going on (hopefully). This weekend it's supposed to be sunny and sort of warm, so I think I'm finally going to check out Margit Island (where I'll be doing most of my running once I'm all healed up). Everything else is up in the air, as it always is.

Des Moines Marathon Race Report (Warning: this is nearly as long as the race itself)

I awake before sunrise after a fitful night of sleep. At this point the opportunity to get up is a relief. I’m not prone to nervousness but, in spite of the fact that this has never actually happened to me, I’m always worried I’ll sleep through my alarm on race day. Consequently, I repeatedly awake with a start, like a kid nodding off in his 7:30am entry-level college Economics class because it’s just so damn early in the morning and, admittedly, Economics is just so damn boring. Since this is always the case, the lack of good sleep causes me no concern. Running my first marathon promises to fill me with enough nervous excitement and adrenaline that if I could bottle it I could give Starbucks a run for their money in the business of keeping awake college students stuck in 7:30am entry-level Economics classes.

Without stepping out of my hotel room I know that it is just under 40° and slightly windy. I had committed the hourly weather report to memory before going to sleep. It’s cold, so I pull on some layers of clothes and my shoes and head out for an easy jog to raise my body temperature and “get the plumbing working.” My jog is more of a shuffle. The city is still quietly wrapped in dark and stars. I jog the three blocks to the start line, where my excruciating journey will begin in just a few short hours. The only people out are those unlucky volunteers who are constructing the Start and Finish lines and setting up the fencing. It’s hard to imagine these streets filled with over 6,000 participants, not to mention their friends and families who will be there to cheer them on. Looking back on it now, I never got to enjoy the happy crowd of lunatics who tackle the marathon with me that day. Honestly, I lined up at the front and between the start and when I left the finish area, I probably didn’t see more than a couple hundred runners. There’s a good chance I saw that many volunteers that day. Strange.

I shuffle a few more blocks and head back to the hotel. The entire jog takes me about 15 minutes - just enough time to get me feeling a little warm. I go back inside and have a cup of coffee and breakfast; nothing special, just exactly what I’ve been eating before all of my long runs for the last two months. The routine comforts me, but I know there is still a lot of time before the race and that I won’t get through this morning without at least a few pre-race jitters. As I mentioned above, I’m not prone to nervousness, but this will be the first time I force my body to run this distance, and I’m attempting to do it in 3 hours no less. Many people think the Boston qualifying time of 3:10 is tough enough and many more people think 3 hours is crazy. They’re right, but I didn’t sign up to do this because I thought it would be fun. I did it for the challenge. Hell, I could walk the damn thing and say I did a marathon, but that won’t tell me anything about myself.

I eat with my thoughts. I turn on the TV to drown out the thoughts. Now I’m eating with my thoughts and the news, but I don’t manage to catch any of the stories. I finish breakfast and try to relax for a bit. I flip through the channels. I go to the bathroom. I peel off my layers and put on my race outfit. I go to the bathroom. I drink some water. I grab arm warmers and gloves, knowing it’s too cold for just shorts and a singlet. I put on a few layers and head out for an honest warm-up, but since there’s plenty of time during a marathon this warm-up is a jog - one step up from the shuffle of an hour and a half ago. The sun is up now and, despite the increasing wind, gives the illusion of warmth. I come back, drink some water, and go to the bathroom. I head out for the Start line.

I get to the Start line and go through my warm-up routine: strides, butt-kicks, high knees, some light stretching. I drop my layers and go to line to search for the 3:00 pace group. I introduce myself to the pace leader and wait nervously for the gun to go off. This is the worst part. Months of training being smothered by anticipation. Suffocated. I’m gasping for the freedom to just start running. Someone sings the Star Spangled Banner. I’m not sure if she does a good job. I bounce nervously in place. They start the wheelchair athletes. I turn around and see nothing but heads. Somewhere behind me are over 6,000 people, but I can only see the few hundred around me. Finally, “runners, take your marks.” Finally, the gun.

At the front of the race, the pack thins out rather quickly. We go through the first mile in 6:30. This is 20 seconds faster than goal pace. I look at the pacer. He looks at his watch. He shrugs.

“I always do that.”

“Sorry.”

Granted, I would have done that if I where trying to pace this thing on my own, but that’s why I was with the group. So it goes. By mile 2 the pack has already thinned out. At mile 4 the runners doing the half marathon branch off onto their course. By this time the 3 hour group is larger than I thought it would be with about 40 of us running together. The course gets hilly. Mostly rolling hills with a couple long gradual inclines. These are the types of hills I like. There is one hill in a tree-lined residential area that is about 300 meters long and what feels like straight up. This type of hill I could do without. The route is mostly through residential areas, with shafts of sun stabbing through the already golden autumn leaves and people dotting front yards to cheer us on. The miles roll by easily at this point. Some of the guys in the group talk to each other. I crack a nervous joke early, but save my energy. Even though I’ve never run a marathon before, I know this race actually starts somewhere around mile 20.

I’m aware of very little. I notice my breathing. I hear the marching of our feet. We’re an army and we’ve come to take your marathon in under 3 hours. We won’t take no for an answer. I’m aware of what I perceive my effort to be. I notice my breathing. Anything not happening to me is none of my concern. The cheering crowds of people aren’t much more than 10 feet from us on either side, but they seem far away and their cheers come muffled. From the other side of a wall, maybe. Or through a pillow. We hit mile 9 and I’m nudged back to reality. I know this is the end of the hills and I tell myself it’s all easy from here. I have no idea, but it seems like a good thing to tell myself at the time

More miles roll by. We run through the halfway point in 1:29:43. Perfect. I feel fine but we’re only halfway done. I don’t let myself start counting down the miles yet. I know it’s too soon.

“We’re going to start shooting for 6:45s.”

I don’t ask questions. He’s the pacer. He ran this race in 2:58 last year, so he’s the boss. Probably he’s working on getting us a bit of a cushion of time to prepare for the almost certain slowdown that will happen in the last few miles. The group is down to about 30.

We run 6:22. We run 6:42. At mile 15 I start to hurt. It starts to get hard. My breathing still hasn’t increased, but my legs know the cost of running 15 miles at 6:50 pace. I worry a little. It’s too early. There are still 11 miles to go. We run 6:43. We go up a small hill, something I would never have considered a hill until now, and it hurts. We run 6:40. My breathing is labored now. We pass through an aid station and I slow just a bit to grab a cup of Gatorade and make sure it ends up in my mouth instead of on my face, but when I drop my cup and try to catch back up to the group, which is now around 20 guys or less, I just can’t go any faster. I run 7:13

Suddenly it all begins to unravel. I feel every step. I’m now aware of all of the bones in my feet. I start to learn how many muscles are in the thigh and begin to feel them individually on every impact. My calves begin to whittle themselves into knots of wood. They spasm and jump under my skin. I have to stop to stretch them. While I’m doing this, the volunteers at the aid station as if I need anything.

“Yeah, to be done.”

But I’m not, so I keep going. I run 8:04. I try to tell myself that I maybe my legs will come around and I’ll still be able to do this. I force to go faster. I run 7:47, but every inch of that mile hurts. There are still 5 miles left, but my race is over. I run 8:15. My calves spasm again and once again I have to stop and stretch. I run 8:39.

I’m hemorrhaging. I’m bleeding precious seconds all over this course, but it’s at this point that I realize that if I can push through these last 3 miles that I can still run under 3:10 and qualify for the Boston marathon - the last race in the US that you still have to qualify for outside of the Olympic trials. I run 8:15. I run 8:24. The 3:10 pace group catches me. They encourage me.

“Come with us.”

I want to, but my legs won’t respond. I manage to run 8:03. I can see the Finish line. I know it’s going to be close. I force myself to try to sprint, but I don’t know how much faster that actually is. I can read the clock above the Finish line. It’s counting up, but as far as I’m concerned it’s counting down. If it reaches 3:10 before I get there, my race has blown up. I run harder. I wince at every step. I cross in 3:09:44. My legs buckle and someone catches me as someone else puts a medal around my head. The medal hits my chest with a dull thud and I’m surprised of the weight of it. I remember thinking that I’m glad that it’s so substantial because of what I just went through, but I’m not sure it’s quite enough. I hobble, with the help of a volunteer, to the massage tent. They work on my calves. I don’t want to get up.

I drag myself out of the tent and get my clothes. It’s sunny and considerably warmer than when we started over 3 hours ago, but I’m suddenly freezing. I go to the food tables and engulf anything that sounds good. I’m starving. I eat as much as I can for 5 minutes and grab more food to take back to the hotel. I don’t know what it looks like, but I’m sure my walk is ugly. I know it’s deformed. I try to hobble in such a way that causes no pain, but everything causes pain, so I try to hobble in such a way as to cause as little pain as possible. It’s not possible. It’s all pain. It takes me probably close to 15 minutes to walk the 3 blocks to the hotel. I sit down and feel like I could stay there all day, but the hotel refused to give me late checkout. I sit wondering why anyone would run 26.2 miles at once. Ever. I sit until the last possible minute, throw my stuff in my backpack, and checkout.

This is (almost) exactly how it happened.

This morning before I went to Pertu, the coffee shop near our apartment on Dob Utca, I listened to the new JVA demos. They’re amazing. The longing to be a part of that tore straight to my gut, but not the easy way - through my torso - oh no. It ripped my head off and ate through my heart before turning into a whale in the fishbowl of my stomach. I know I can’t make it through a second listen so I drag myself to the coffee shop. Pertu has become home base in a sense. I go daily in an attempt to make friends with the baristas. I want friendly faces. I want someone who recognizes my face and the smile that comes with that acknowledgement, even if it is only an empty pleasantry. Even if it’s not warm with honest emotion.

I set up shop in the upstairs corner and turn on my computer. The internet is a small refuge from my alien surroundings. I read up on my friend’s lives. I fill in the details as only one with intimate knowledge of the people and places can do. Today, however, the internet has turned on me. My inbox brings only bad news. There’s a rejection letter from a freelance writing company. There are emails from English language schools telling me I’m too late. They’ve already filled all of their positions. I tell myself it’s not that bad.

I’m the worst kind of liar. I’m lying to someone who already knows the truth. There’s no comfort in these empty words. I don’t mention it to Johnmark until we get ready to leave. He tells me the same things I’ve been telling myself.

We leave Pertu and hop on the tram. We take it to the other side of the Danube river where we begin walking up the hill. We’re going to Buda castle. It’s on the top of the hill which, admittedly, is a good place to put a castle. We walk up hills through narrow, winding streets. The buildings are packed so efficiently together that, while looking down the road, sometimes only the color of the paint can be used to distinguish one building from the next as there is barely enough room between them to create shadows or even the illusion of space. We climb stairs. Lots of stairs, until finally we reach the castle walls. We spend the afternoon walking. We take in the view of the entire city from the castle walls. I feel bigger and wonder at how such a large city can suddenly look so much smaller. I think of how small home would look if it were nestled on the other side of the river. I think of how small home would look if I could see it now, where it currently sits, from this distance on this hill. Suddenly the city re-inflates and I feel tiny again.

We see the palace. We see small shops and statues of war heroes. We walk down the hill and across the Chain Bridge. We walk to St. Stephen’s Basilica. Europe is not lacking in ornate churches, to say the least, but the enormity of this one radiates an effect that can be felt from blocks away, before the entire building is even in sight. Even if you’re someone who loathes organized religion, the awe felt when you enter the church will steal away your breath leaving you nothing with which to even whisper a single bad word about it. There’s no proper way to describe it and even showing someone a picture of the inside wouldn’t transmit the feeling of being there. It would be like if someone asked you if there were in love and you tried to show them a picture of love and ask them if that’s how they felt.

On our way home we realize that, not only do we have no groceries waiting for us, but we only had a pastry for lunch and the afternoon of walking has left us starving. We decide to stop in a small Hungarian restaurant. We sit down, open our menus, and I’m a child again. I make out one word, the Hungarian word for spinach. I turn my menu towards Johnmark and ask him for help. He starts reading through it without complaint but I decide on the first thing that sounds remotely like something I would want to eat. I don’t want to be a burden. I end up with beef cooked with red wine and mashed potatoes. The food is cheap and delicious.

We get back to the apartment and I lay down for a quick nap. Johnmark inadvertently falls asleep with his head on his crossed arms on the table. We are wiped out. We wake up and have a light snack. We head out to Nona’s apartment. Nona is from Ohio and is studying Environmental Studies at an English language college in Budapest. She’s having people over for Hungarian hot wine. There will be people from here school there. It’s an English speaking party of sorts. It’s nice to meet people who I can just talk to. I feel like I spend all of my time outside of the apartment just listening. I only talk to Johnmark.

We meet a guy from Portugal and his girlfriend, who is from California. There are two girls who are roommates, one from New Zealand and the other from England. There’s a Hungarian girl. There’s a guy from Zimbabwe by way of Australia. I couldn’t even imagine a group like that getting together in the US, except for maybe on a college campus somewhere. Everyone has traveled so much. I feel inexperienced and undereducated. We all share amazing stories. We talk about crazy clubs and about racism alike. We talk about theatre and maternity leave. We talk about governments. Almost no one has anything good to say about governments. The Americans try to explain fraternities and sororities. We laugh and joke. I marvel at how different we all are and yet how, when it comes down to it, we’re all the same. Human.

Turned out to be a good day after all.

Hallo from Budapest.

Other than having to run through the airport to catch my connecting flight in Detroit and having a 10 hour layover in Brussels, my trip over was relatively uneventful. It didn't start to get crazy until I got to Brussels and didn't hear anyone speaking English for hours on end. I spent part of the day sleeping here:

I somehow skipped customs in the Budapest airport. I think that's bad. I was so drained from the day and a half of travel and almost no sleep that I almost didn't recognize Johnmark when I saw him, but was so happy and relieved when I did. This trip is definitely and adventure of epic proportions for me, but having JM around is making it so much easier. Unfortunately he only has a week off from work to get me acclimated and then I'll be spending a little more time on my own. Most likely that time will be spent exploring the city and butchering Hungarian words from my phrasebook. Hopefully I'll get a job soon, but I'll also need to find some things to fill my time. I think it's safe to assume that the main two will be reading and writing...and learning Hungarian.

For everyone who is wondering what it's like being in a foreign country, I must admit it is a bit disorienting to not be able to read anything. I feel awkward and isolated in that sense. On the other hand, probably about half of the people here speak at least a little English, so I can manage better that way. Still, this would be impossible without JM.

We live right near downtown in the middle of the city. Public transportation is available all over, but we can walk pretty much anywhere we need to go. We spent the whole first day walking around and I got to see a lot of cool stuff that I'll explore more in depth when I have the time. However, here are a few pictures of where we went the first day:

Chain Bridge.

The Danube River.

Parliament.

Church 1 block from our house.

Here are two things that I was completely unprepared for:

They drive on the right side of the road.

Just how small our "apartment" (A.K.A. room) is.

OK, I'm too worn out to make this very good or interesting, so I'll stop now. For now it still feels like a vacation. Waiting for reality to set in.

Cheers!

Eric

1 week to race day.

Not much to say. The days off are driving me crazy, but the days I run I'm feeling really fit. I've done the work, now all I can do is wait to see how it all plays out on race day.

Three days after the race I'll be leaving for Budapest. It's crazy to think that in 10 days I'm moving to Europe. I'm sure the weight of it will hit me somewhere over the ocean and I'll have far too many hours on that plane to think about it all, but for right now I'm just really excited to see Johnmark.

Got to catch up with an old friend (Jess) from college today. Two wonderful hours and I wish we would have had a few more. It was great to see that she's lookin' good and doing really well. We should all be so lucky.

I've decided on the books I'm going to bring with me to Budapest: Moby Dick and Walden.

Honestly, I'm just trying to keep myself preoccupied. The only thing I'm thinking about right now is running a sub-3 hour marathon. Guess I'll just update this after the race.

It's all in the hands of the gods.

Three weeks from now I will have completed my first full marathon. Hopefully I will have done it in under 3 hours. I've had some workouts in the last few weeks that have let me know the fitness is there; they were also great confidence boosters as well: a 16 mile long run with the last 13 miles at race pace (6:50s), a 22 mile long run with the last 6 miles at race pace, and 10x800 on the track in 2:50 with one lap easy jog active recovery. I've prepared as well as I can, now it's, "all in the hands of the gods," as they say.

In 11 days I'll no longer have a cell phone. In 24 days I'll be on a plane to Europe. In high school I would never have imagined what twists and turns my life would take up to this point. What wonderful surprises they have been. I made it through college, somehow became a bass player, made some of the best friends in the world and then spent years making music and touring with them. I've been just getting by, but I've never felt poor. I became an endurance athlete - first a runner and then a triathlete. I've never had a "real" job. I look back on all of these things and smile. Now I'm moving to Budapest with one of my best friends. I can only shake my head and wonder what the future will bring. Although this isn't the path that most people take, I feel like I'm doing it right.

T-36 days to liftoff.

With this one way plane ticket in my hand, I know there's no turning back. I'm starting to count down the days. I stare at empty bookshelves and for the first time I feel the weight of leaving, and of what I'm leaving behind. I'm finding it harder and harder to fall asleep. I'm having dreams of airplanes crashing in reverse. The plane flies tail first out of a fiery explosion, like a phoenix. It takes me through the clouds into the clear, blue sky. I always wake up before it sets me safely down back home. I'm starting to look at the city and imagine how it will look in the future. I'm starting to see things as "staying" or "going." I'm starting to count down the days. I've started missing my friends while I'm hanging out with them. I pay more attention to their details, as if I'm storing them up - saving them to get me through a long winter. Every time I've ever seen the ocean it looks like it goes on forever, but I'll bridge that horizon and forever will end on another continent. I've stopped buying things I can't take with me. I'm missing you already. I'm starting to count down the days.

In case you missed it.

I don't know how many people read my blog who don't read my facebook, but in case you missed it I quit the band. There's really no good way to explain why, so the short version is that it just became more stress than fun.

Also, I'm moving to Budapest, Hungary with Johnmark. Best idea ever? We'll see.

I typed an entirely different update here...

then I deleted it. You want to know what I've been doing? Honestly, I spent 47 miles this week trying to outrun my problems. So far it's not working, so next week I'm shooting for 50.

Yeah, it's been a while.

In my defense, I was on tour for a month. Or, I'm lazy. :P Now I'm home, so I have no excuse. Here's the tour recap:

Week 1:

Lincoln kickoff show was rad. Played a house show in Omaha with Houston Calls (great band. awesome dudes.). Two days in Springfield with our good friends. Went cliff jumping (50 foot cliffs) at a lake and grilled in the evening. Hot Springs, OK with The Last Slice (great ska band. crazy kids.). Another couple show in Oklahoma.

Week 2:

Dust storm in Lubbock, TX and friends. Show in a weird metal venue/practice space and friends. Day off at Elephant Butte Lake with Mike's relatives. Awesome relaxations times. :) Tucson show where kids were singing the words to our songs. Tempe with Nebraska friends. DISNEYLAND!!!

Week 3:

San Diego - got to eat at Sombrero's! Couple shows in the L.A. area. Awesome backyard house show with our Claremont friends. Concord show with our NoCal friends. Beautiful drive through northern CA kind of reminded me of home. Hotel in Oregon upgraded w/ a pool! Beautiful running trail. Portland has the biggest bookstore I've ever been in. <3

Week 4:

Unexpected Nebraska friends in Seattle. Met Mike and Tom from MxPx in Bremerton (Tom was our bartender at the venue)! Super nice people made us feel at home. The Pacific NW is beautiful. It's a crazy, mountainous forest! :) Boise is an AMAZING town with really cool people. Two shows that night. Todd was super great to us. Logan, UT is quaint. Slept in the venue. Had a great (and hilly) run there. Beautiful views. Ft. Collins show was a bust, but got to see old friends. Fun show in a weird venue in Denver. Drove home that night. Blew a tire on the trailer at 6:30 in the morning. Made it back alive!!!

Came back to my job at The Lincoln Running Company. Love that place. Picked up a second job at the YMCA (so I can do swim workouts again). :) Ramping up my training in hopes of doing the Des Moines marathon. Will be my first full if I can make it without getting injured. 36 miles last week, 42 this week. 14 mile long run this morning with Ben. Went in the country where it was SUPER hilly. Both of us felt bad. Averaged about 8 minute pace. That's not going to cut it, but I'll worry about speed later in the training (and on a day when I'm feeling better). Top of my right foot has been hurting a bit. Don't know what it is, but it's not slowing me down so I guess I won't worry about it for now.

Now you're all caught up.

Wicked

     I've had some good times since my last post.  Got to hang out with Evan Bovee.  It was good to see him, and I'm excited to hang out with him again in a few weeks when we play Springfield, MO.  Kate and I skipped the Jason Mraz show and just hung out.  That was probably the best decision of my week.  I always have a great time when I'm with that girl.  Thursday I packed a bunch of friends in the van and we headed to Lawrence, KS to see NFG with Bayside, Set Your Goals, and Fireworks.  NFG played for well over an hour and didn't play a single bad song.  It was a great show.  Last night I went to Omaha with  my brother and some friends to see Wicked.  It was absolutely amazing.  We went to Old Chicago and got some food and drinks after the show got out.

     The band has been stressing me out lately.  Between single-handedly booking our month long June tour to the West coast and spending all of the money I have, and some I don't have (I had to sell my bass cab) to order new t-shirts and reorder our CDs, I've just been going crazy.  I feel like I'm not getting any help at all.  So it goes.  We've got a few things in the works that might turn out to be good for us, so I just need to keep it together and get through this.  

     Guess that's about it.  Nothing fun specifically planned for this week, but I'm sure something will come up.

-E

...and then Kate called me out.

So now you get another update.  It's been just over a month since my last blog.  Here's what you've missed:

We went on a short, week-long tour through the Midwest.  Didn't really make  much money, but we had a KILLER time!!!  :)  Lots of fun and friends in the Midwest

I can run again (kind of)!!!  My IT band is still really tight, but I've been  stretching, strengthening, and using the TriggerPoint on it (this stuff is AWESOME), and now I can run pain free for about 30 minutes.  Slowly but surely, I guess

Because of said injury, I was unable to run the Lincoln Marathon today, but I went out to cheer on all my friends.  It kind of bummed me out being around all the excitement but not being a part of it.  However, I saw my friends go through some amazing and heart wrenching things today:  Kate ran the half really fast and hit her goal time!  Ginni ran her first marathon in 3:31 and qualified for Boston!  Ben, founder of Market to Market, killed the half with a PB 1:27!  My training buddy, Jorge, had a bad day - he's a new daddy :) - but still ran a 2:53 marathon!  Mark's legs shut down around mile 22, forcing him to mostly walk the rest of the race.  I saw him break down in tears after crossing the finish line, only to learn later that he was on pace to run 3:25 before mile 22, but ended up running 3:34 and missing his qualifying time by 4 minutes.  

This week I'll be seeing Jason Mraz (yeah, you read that right, Barrett) and The Plain White Tees with Kate.  Mraz is a little chill for my tastes, but he's growing on my.  Plus, I've always wanted to be just like Barrett.  That show is on Tuesday.  

I'll stay in Omaha Tuesday night and drive to Ames, IA to pick up our new trailer.

Thursday night I'm heading to Lawrence, KS with some friends to see New Found Glory, Bayside, and Set Your Goals!!!  Can you tell which show I'm more excited to see?  Ahaha.  However, I'm more excited to go with Kate on Tuesday than with the pop punk friends on Thursday, so it all evens out.  :)

Friday?  Maybe a date...maybe.

Saturday I work all day.  15 hours.  As usual.

Sunday just might bring a long bike with Jorge.  Looking forward to getting out on the bike more now that the weather is getting nice.  

Guess I have a busy week, but I'm looking forward to all of it.  Other than that, it's been business as usual.  Booking our June tour to the West Coast is stressing me out.  Working too much.  Not working out as much as I'd like.  Finished reading Once a Runner.  Good book.  Started reading Slapstick by Vonnegut.  So it goes.

Because Barrett called me out...

OK, so it's been a while.  I forget that some people actually read blogs to keep up with what's going on in their friend's lives (even though that's really the only reason I have one).  That reminds me, Lauren, I think you should get a blog.  Or you and Barrett need to join facebook.  If not, I'm going to have to get better about calling both of you!  Here's a quick recap:

Tour was great.  Had a blast with the Hercules crew.  Got to see Barrett AND Lauren.  Man, I miss those two.  Had lots of crazy adventures.  Made some money (well...broke even).  Decided that Gainesville, FL is one of the few cities in which I could live, outside of Lincoln.  Got to see a lot of friends, and make a lot of new ones.  Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede!!!  (google it if you're curious).  Ran (a lot).  56 miles one week!  Got injured two days before we got home, after spending the majority of tour missing out on some fun so I could go to bed early and get up and run before we had to be on the road.  Went to the beach.  Twice.  :)  Missed a month of crappy winter weather.

Since I've been home I've just been biking and swimming (and lots of strengthening and stretching to try to get the knee better).  I haven't been able to run since we got home.  Well, I did test it out tonight, since it was so nice out, but I only made it a mile before  I had to stop.  Looks like the marathon is out of the question.  I've been working like crazy.  62 hours my first week home.  Even though I get to go on tour, I still have to pay the bills.  I am a little more than 400 pages through "Lore of Running" by Tim Noakes (it's over 900 pages).  It's all about the physiology and training of running and it's AMAZING.  If you're a serious runner, you should definitely read this book.  I've been running  for years and I've already learned so much...and have been corrected on a lot I thought I knew.  I got a new toy - the Trigger Point massage kit.  Also AMAZING.  It hurts in just the right way.  I also ordered some Infinit nutrition drink mix.  I'm excited to try it out.  I'll let you all know how it goes.

Guess that's about it.  I'm very thirsty and way tired, so I'm off to chug a glass of water and go to bed.  Gotta get up at 5:30 for a swim workout.

Berzerkermode

Well, we're a week out on the JV Allstars/Hercules Berzerkermode tour and I must say that I really love those guys. Great guys, great music. Traveling with friends definitely makes tour more fun. It's hard to believe that we get 3 more weeks of this!

Running has been going well. I'm running longer miles every other day, rather than trying to run 6 days a week. Jorge and I talked it over and that seems like the best idea for training specificity (since I'm training for a marathon) and it seems to be working well with my crazy schedule. Since we left I've done 15, 10, and 14 mile runs and seem to be handling it well. I hope to meet up with Barrett tomorrow for a 16-miler. Luckily I'm not at home because that 16 miles will be a lot easier to do in the 50 degree weather than it would in the 10 inches of snow that Nebraska is supposed to get. The only thing I'm worried about is having lower volume since I'm running less days a week, but if this keeps me in relatively good shape, I'll be ready for what Jorge is calling "bloody March" when I get home. I think that means it's going to be a tough month of training?

It has been great seeing friends that we've made on other tours, but I'm excited to get out of the Midwest and start making some new friends in the South!

Oh, I have a blog?

Sometimes I honestly forget that I have this thing.  I mostly use it to keep up on other people's blogs.  However, sometimes I just don't know that anyone is that interested.  Regardless, here is an update:

Running:

     Other than a small IT band scare, I've been running well and injury-free.  I hit my miles last week (46), so that's a start.  I guess I'll actually decide if I'm running the Lincoln Marathon once I get back from tour.  I have some 50 and 60 mile weeks I'm supposed to do, and, since I've never tried to run while on tour, I'm not sure how feasable that is.  If I can get the training in while on tour, I plan on putting in the real work and signing up for the marathon as soon as I get home!

Band:

     We leave for tour in just over a week, which means I'm running around like crazy trying to get everything done (get the breaks fixed on the van, reorder t-shirts, order stickers, pack, etc.). We're headed to Florida which is exciting because we've never been there, plus, we'll be down south so I'll get to run in some better weather!  :)  Maybe I'll be able to hook up with Barrett and he can remind me of the difference between an elite athlete and us mortals.

     We're also in the process of signing a publishing contract, which is just as scary as it is exciting.  It basically just means that some guy is going to take our songs, remix and remaster them, and try to get them in movies and commercials.  That's a great step for us, however looking over and negotiating the contract is kind of scary.

     I'm also excited for the new songs we're writing!!!  :)

Well, if you know me you know that that's pretty much my life.  I'm working quite a bit so I can afford all the tours we're going on.  I'm reading a couple books, as usual.  I'm hanging out when I can (or, more realistically, when I feel like it).  Watching quite a few movies (on the trainer - it is winter in Nebraska).  The girl situation is looking pretty bleak right now.  Guess that's how it goes when you're looking for something pretty specific.  So it goes.  I don't want to end on that note, so I guess I'll just say that at this point I'm feeling pretty excited about trying to run a sub-3 hour marathon!  :)

2008 Totals

Well, it wasn't a great year for training, but, in my defense, I was gone for two month-long  West coast tours, one month-long East coast tour, and a two week Midwest tour.  Since I don't usually train while on tour, not only did I miss those three and a half months, but I essentially had to start over when I got home.  No triathlons on the schedule for 2009, so I'll swim and bike to my liking, but I'm training for the Lincoln marathon, so I'm sure my running will be up this year.  Anyway, enough excuses.  Here are my totals for this year and how they compare to last year (when I trained for my first half-ironman).

Swim:

2007 - 294,300 yards or 167 miles

2008 - 96,200 yards or 54.66 miles

Bike:

2007 - 167 hours

2008 - 24 hours

Run:

2007 - 1,291 miles

2008 - 856.5 miles