Staring down the barrel

Waiting in the corrals just minutes prior to the gun has to be one of the most nerve wrecking moments. You, and everyone around you are pumped full of adrenaline yet must patiently do the countdown until it is time to go. I find that I'm so excited I can barely contain myself.

Slightly behind that level of nervousness are the few days leading up to race day. The entire waiting game is what I'm calling 'staring down the barrel' and it drives me crazy (in a good way)!

For those of you who somehow don't know, I'll be running in the New York City marathon on Sunday, November 6th along with over 45,000 strangers / new best friends. A few years back, the thought of running 26.2 miles was beyond comprehensible, yet as I sit here staring down the barrel, my concern has shifted from 'will I finish' now to 'how long will it take'? The funny thing is, after the race I will inevitably think, 'wow, I could not have run any faster since I am so dead tired', but next year, I'll reflect back (while hopefully training for an even faster time) and laugh, thinking, 'that wasn't so bad in New York...but NOW this will be the fastest I will ever be able to go'. Rinse and repeat. I'll put it out there, my medium term goal is to time qualify for the Boston marathon (currently set at 3:05 for my age category). I'm nowhere near that yet, but check back with me in a year or two, and I hope I'll be able to tell you that I'm much closer to making it a reality.

If you've never watched the finish of a marathon, or any endurance sport for that matter, you really are missing out on seeing something incredible. 99% of the runners will not receive any monetary prize, endorsement deal, or anything of that sort, yet all of us will still be pushing, pulling, and willing our way through to the finish line. What is it that drives someone to push the limits of their body and mind? The beauty is that its deeply personal - some do it for a friend / family member, others run 'in honor of', some want to test their limits...but whatever it is, I applaud you! If you are in New York and want to witness your first one, come out on Sunday! You can help cheer me on...and secretly I will be using your smiles / cheers as fuel to push myself on. I am runner number 16374, starting in wave 1, and aiming to run a sub 3:30. I look forward to seeing you out there and promise you won't be disappointed =)

Simple pleasures

I cannot explain it exactly, but have had a big smile on my face every morning for the last few weeks. I actually look forward to my commute to and from work now. Let me first clarify, I'm very blessed to have such a short door-to-door commute and have friends who travel up to 1.5 hours each way. Just think about it, that is 3 hours a day, 15 hours a week spent on the road traveling. That is 15 hours a week that could be spent doing something, ANYTHING else.

One of the reasons I have a smile is because of Linus. Yes I will admit it, she is beautiful. I am head over heels about her. She is old school, yet new school. She is trendy, yet classy. She is simple, yet incredibly complicated. To put it lightly, she treats me well. Every morning when I'm ready to go, she is there, waiting for me, ready to do anything I ask of her. It doesn't matter if it is 4am, 3pm, or 9pm.

She gets way too many compliments and at times, I get a little jealous. That is okay though, because she never actually gets mad. All I have to do is to keep her greased up, if you know what I mean. However, I get awfully suspicious that other guys are looking a little too hard because I know what they are thinking about deep down, so I lock Linus up in my room so they can't get their grimy hands on her. You might think I'm too protective about the situation, but if you saw her, you would know.

Now, let me just clarify because you may begin to think I'm some crazy pervert, serial killer, or a mad scientist. Linus is my new bicycle! Does that make things a little better?! I hope so.

I bought a bicycle after seeing a number of people who commuted this way while in London. I thought the idea was novel at first but not do-able in New York due to the chaotic traffic messes that can build up. Also, I've heard enough stories about bicyclers who get creamed by cabs, trucks, or doors popping open without warning that serve as an endless obstacle course.

However, after stewing on it for a month and researching potential routes to / from work, and part-time shopping trips to bike shops on weekends, I finally pulled the trigger! Actually, here is what happened - I walked into a store on a sunny Saturday afternoon, fully intending JUST to look at different Linus models, saw the Gaston 1 which I had not yet seen anywhere else, took it for a test ride (do you call it a test ride or test 'drive', har har har), and found myself walking out of the store with a new bike in tow.

Within the first minute of the first ride, I was reminded of how much fun it was to ride a bike. I probably haven't ridden a bike for 10 years or so prior to the bike shop trip. Think about the joy you felt when you got your first bike. Think back to when you rode up and down the street with your friends because it was your only form of transportation outside of asking Mom and Dad for a ride. I got to re-live that recently! And if you can't recall, I will happily lend you my bike and let you take it for a spin. I promise you will also remember.

Most people have seen New York on foot, or in a car / cab, or through the many subway tunnels that connect the boroughs together, but seeing the city on a bike is by far the biggest rush. I don't do it much justice, but it feels just so liberating when you are in control, guiding yourself down the street using only your legs to propel you forward while your hands steer you whereever you want to go.

I can honestly say that so far, it has been such a joy to ride my bike to work. I'm pretty sure I look ridiculous riding around in work clothes with my right pant leg tied back (to prevent getting grease on it from the chain), but honestly, I think I look semi-cool and that is what matters most =) I really find myself smiling as I ride and have to remind myself to tone it down on the way to work as people riding in the opposite direction have given me some weird looks already.

If you drive in the city, be on the look out and please please pay attention so you don't run me over! You'll know me when you see me too - the guy with an ear-to-ear grin and an appreciation for the simples pleasures that life offers.

Here she is, a Linus Gaston 1 (black frame, tan wheels, and an upgraded Brooks saddle).

Morocco and back!

After my work assignment in London ended recently, and before I flew back to Amurika to re-integrate back into an Empire state of mind, I thought one last trip was in order!

Have you ever read 'The Alchemist'? If not, you really should. It is such a fast read and I always find I am re-inspired about life, personal goals, relationships with friends / family, etc afterwards. Anyways, in the book, the protagonist goes to Morocco to begin his personal journey and I wanted to replicate this part of the story. While I did not go to Tangier exactly as he did, I did spend four days in Marrakech. I also did not get robbed like he did, so that means +1 point for me.

Being in Marrakech feels like traveling back in time. When you arrive in the main square, you are instantly captivated by everything that is going on. Your senses kick into overdrive as you see, hear, smell, touch, and taste it all. Not only are their snake charmers playing music to hypnotize their cobras, but food stalls line the square making every odd item you could imagine. Gift shops are generously sprinkled throughout, and mopeds zip up and down and through the smallest of openings. I was a bit overwhelmed and had to just sit at the edge just to get my bearings.

I decided it would be best to find my hostel first so I could grab a shower, change, and find a map. (Unfortunately, the night before when I should have been preparing for the trip, I decided to go out for 'one and only one drink' with some co-workers. I have a theory that whenever you intend to only have one night, those nights generally end up getting out of hand, or at the very least become very fun. Maybe it is the lack of expectation that you place on the evening). With the previous night out, I forgot to print a map or directions to the hostel. I thought in my head, I've worked off very bad instructions before and always end up finding where I need to go so how bad could this be? Keeping in mind I had written down the address, I attempted to navigate based on Google Maps from my blackberry. Long story short, I cannot locate the hostel by name, street address, or any other modified search that Google Maps would accept. Further, my blackberry does not have GPS and only has the 'approximate location' tool which is rubbish when you need anything under 'you are within 2000m' distance of accuracy. For me, this is 100% of the time in any foreign town!

I'll spare you the details, but 2 hours later after fruitlessly asking shop owners and hotel doormen if they knew the hostel, I finally cave in and find an internet cafe to do a bit more power searching. No worries though, I think these are the things that make a vacation more memorable as long as you don't freak out. I eventually find the hostel and arrive still with a smile on my face (and a lot of sweat on my shirt)!

The other memorable event worth nothing about my stay in Morocco was a two day / one night trip out to the Sahara desert. Based on my horrible sense of geography, I thought the Sahara desert started close to Marrakech but I was horribly wrong. Not only did it take 10-12 hours of solid driving to get there, but we also had to pass over the Atlas Mountains through narrow winding roads! Upon arrival, we all took the obligatory camel ride. Side note - I've had this image of me riding on a camel with the desert in the background for a long time in my mind so as cheesy as it was, I now have a picture of it. Now, hopefully I don't burst your bubble when I tell you this, but riding on a camel is NOT that comfortable. For the first 10 minutes its fine, but then after one hour of sitting almost spread eagle style with camel hairs chafing your inner leg the whole way, you quickly realize you want to get off. And when you do get off, you realize there are sore muscles in your inner leg that you weren't aware existed one hour ago!

The camels escorted us into the desert where the Berber (local indigenous people) guides had set up camp for the night. We ate dinner in the tents and then participated in some local dancing. I think at one point in time, we formed a cha cha line though? Either way, it was all fueled on my massive quantities of Berber whiskey. For those who don't know, they don't drink alcohol so Berber whiskey = mint tea. Mint tea = 0% alcohol.

Before going to bed, I laid out on the sand dunes just to look up into the heavens. Instantly, that long car ride and the uncomfortable camel ride (and I didn't know at the time, but the travelers diarrhea I picked up as a result of bad food / water) was worth it! I have NEVER seen the stars like I did that night. It honestly looked better than a planetarium with countless stars beaming down on me. I wished I could've stayed up all night just gazing up at the sky. It was honestly gorgeous.

I can't believe two weeks before the trip, it crossed my mind that 'maybe I shouldn't take one more trip, and should just head back to New York straight away'. I'm glad I didn't listen to that voice because I would've missed out on so many good sights and sounds and experiences. As I was flying back from Morocco to London, it occurred to me how unlikely it is that I will just head back to Morocco anytime soon just because it is so far away. I patted myself on the back that I maximized my opportunities to see the world over the last three months of my work assignment in London.

Then, I darted to the bathroom as my stomach rumbled. The next few days weren't pretty...

Don't worry, I won't share these details!

Part 2...only 3 weeks late!

Three weeks late isn't THAT late to write about my fantastic trip to Croatia, is it? Where to even begin? First of all, I have a horrible memory. That is why I try to update this blog as soon as something eventful happens. I feel that it catches the essence of the moment, the real 'feelings' behind each experience, so that it isn't just about where I was and what I did. Because let's be honest, unless you were there to experience it with me first hand, you'll prob *yawn* as you read through and eventually get bored since I can never fully explain just what happened.

With that said, three weeks ago, I got back from a fantastic trip to Croatia. It was the second of the four day weekends (and the Royal Wedding) here in the UK, and I had decided a while back that going on a sailing trip would be a great idea. Initially I had tried to drag along some friends but for one reason or another, each plan fell through. No matter though, I quite like traveling solo =)

I searched long and hard for a deal (for those who know me, you know I'm a deal hunter) and came across a random link on a random forum suggesting a random small sailing company in Croatia that offered weekend trips as well as the more normal 7 day adventures. By searching long and hard, what I really mean is that I clicked the first link I found that looked cheap haha! Anyways, the site seemed legit and I inquired about a spot on a boat. A day later, I get a response indicating that a spot has been reserved for me but I would need to fully pay within one or two days in order to hold the reservation. Additionally, the email says that I've been offered an additional 20% off since the boat is close to full. Hmmm, +1 point to my deal hunting abilities! However now the bad news, they only accept wire transfers. Who in this day and age only accepts wires? What about paypal, or any other of the million established online payment systems. I don't know about you, but this sounds as legitimate as those Craigslist ads that require Western Union money transfers. Now I'm in a pickle because the deal seems really too good to be true, but there also seems to be a 36.2% (I always just make up arbitrary probabilities to sound more scientific) chance that this is all a scam.

Guess what I do?! (PS - this is so anticlimactic since I've told you in the very beginning that I had a fantastic trip...but just play along and keep reading and pretend it is suspenseful). I'm a bit worried, but I follow along and set up a wire transfer and send money to some unknown bank account in Croatia! I warn my co-workers before I leave that if I don't return to work, they should send help since I've most likely been kidnapped. If I do return, and I have ice bags on my lower back and I look like death, its most likely because I spent a weekend in an ice bath and am missing at least a kidney that has now traveled halfway around the world thanks to the black market.

A week before the trip, I'm freaking out a bit because I have not received any itinerary information except that the boat will leave from the town of Split. I email them and keep getting a general 'we are working on it and will send it to you shortly' response. -1 point for my deal hunting abilities now if I did in fact get ripped off. However, I reason out that if worst comes to worst, I still have a legitimate flight in and out of Croatia, and I can spend a weekend exploring Split and the surrounding area.

A day before the trip, and I finally receive my itinerary which states the name of the boat, where to find it, and final instructions before boarding. PHEW. +1 point back.

Fast forward to my arrival in Split: it is around 11pm at night, and as I get off the bus from the airport, I have to navigate myself to the hostel. Luckily, I have the instructions printed out and my blackberry with Google maps in my back pocket. PS - I DO not know how I was able to move around Europe for three months last time around without Google maps. The first step is to take a right turn and walk under a passage through Diocletian's Palace which I find without too much trouble. As I make the turn though, its quickly apparent that the route is blocked off and has been gated off. 'No worries', I say in my mind, I'll just fall back on the trusty blackberry. Needless to say, the winding streets and confusing street names make this quite a journey. Oh by the way, my blackberry does not have GPS but only the 'you are approximately here' icon which in a small town is WORTHLESS. At one point, I know I'm close to the hostel since I've somehow crossed a bookstore which is one of the last steps on the instructions page. However, I cannot figure out what to do next and realize I'm at the end of a very dimly lit alley, and two very drunk guys have just spotted me and start to approach. Fast forward: one black eye, one missing wallet, and a loose tooth later, I shriek like a little school girl and someone from the hostel comes running down. JUST KIDDING, I had two black eyes. JUST KIDDING!! None of that happened. I was in a dimly lit alley trying to navigate the last two instruction steps, and two very drunk guys did spot me and started to approach. I will admit that for one brief moment I thought something bad was going to happen. However, the two guys turned out to be very friendly and knew I was lost and just wanted to make sure I was okay! Lesson learned, Croatian people are very friendly.

Fast forward again: I walk to the marina and everyone is already on board. A quick round of introductions later, and I realize I'm the ONLY non-Croatian person. For whatever reason, in my mind, I had just assumed that the trip would be Americans, Canadians, Brits, etc since the website was completely designed in English. However, now I found myself on a boat with all Croatians. Also in my mind, I worry that it's going to be a 'long' weekend since everyone will become friends and I will be the outsider who can't understand anything they are saying. However, once again, I learn a lesson. NOT only are Croatian people extremely nice, but they also learn English all through school and probably speak better than half of my friends back in North Carolina (*Sorry to any friends reading this from North Carolina). A weekend later, I've made 5 new Croatian friends who all extend there homes if I ever visit again. We talked about beer, politics, local foods to try, New York, traveling, and everything else that you'd converse about with friends. Through the trip, I also remember what I love about traveling. Yes it's always great to see the sights and take pictures to post up on facebook, but the real joy of traveling is when you get exposed to a different culture through the people you meet. Sadly, most of my travels don't live up to this, but when it does, it just makes me smile gratefully.

Final lesson learned: check the weather forecast and pack appropriately. I did not check the weather and just assumed it was going to be extremely warm the whole time. I even bought some suntan lotion because I was SURE it would be hot and I would get a golden brown tan in one weekend. I won't say I FROZE, but there were times when I definitely wished I brought some warmer clothes. Just in case you are wondering, all I packed were a few t-shirts, one long sleeve shirt, and one light sweater. Again, I was saved by my new friend Alen who lent me a jacket on the second day when it was really windy out!

Okay so I know I didn't actually talk too much about the actual sailing part of the trip, but sometimes, you just never know what is going to be the most exciting part! I expected it to be the actual sailing but instead it quickly became the people I met along the way.

I say this all the time, but I really mean it. Life is good. I am blessed to be able to do all these wonderful things. I wouldn't change it for the world.

A long weekend to remember (part 1)

It is such a paradigm shift to realize that taking a short one hour flight from London can put you in a new country, new culture, and line up so many new adventures. Back in New York, a one hour flight can get me close to North Carolina...and while some may point out that it is very different between the two places, they also still have to acknowledge it is within the United States!

Last weekend, we had four days off for Easter. First of all, HOW awesome! Second of all, you know I had to take full advantage of it! Luckily, I had something planned this time around and hopped down to the French Riviera and met up with Stephanie as well as her group of Cambridge MBA friends as we skipped along the coast starting out from Marseilles, then to St. Tropez, Cannes, and Nice.

For whatever reason, the group decided to rent a van and drive the route instead of taking the train. This seemed like a very logical choice until we realized that a 'van' in Europe is not the same in size as a van back home. This thing was no bigger than a small SUV and we had to pile seven people as well as all their luggage in. I'll be honest, I did NOT have faith that it could be done but I guess that is why we had the group of smart MBA students to come up with a creative luggage stacking solution.

On top of that, I did not realize that there were only a few quasi-qualified drivers in the group. One guy could only drive automatic so he was out of the running; another guy didn't have a license at all; one girl couldn't drive manual at all; one couple could drive but they haven't driven in a long time; Stephanie could SORT of drive stick but hadn't in eight years; I hadn't driven a manual car since I moved to New York; NONE of us felt very comfortable driving in a new country where we couldn't even read the road signs. Can you see where this story is headed?!

I drew the first straw to drive in Marseilles...let me set up the scene for you so you can better appreciate it: it was very overcast, raining off-and-on, not great visibility, and the radio in our clown car is set to a random French talk show. I'm trying to pull the car out of the rental garage and onto a main street laden with traffic. I can already feel my left leg tremble slightly due to fear that I won't remember how to work the clutch as well as everyone in the car watching my every move. Cars are lined up behind me as I start to roll out and then WAAAH WAHHH WAHHH I stall. 'Oh no', I think, as I quickly restart, only to have it happen again, then again. By now, the cars behind me are honking and for anyone who still remembers learning to drive stick, this adds to the tension! After what seemed like a minute of stalling (but really was probably only ten seconds), one of the people ask, are you sure you are in first gear? I check...and whoops, I was trying to start the thing in third! Despite this, I still drove the first leg...

Just so you know, I was fine driving stick after this small boo boo.

Fast forward to Cannes on Sunday night, and we arrive at the hotel a little bit late since we were hanging out in St.Tropez and Ramatuelle earlier in the day. We're looking for a place to eat and then go out and given a recommendation to go to a lounge / restaurant called Baoli by the front desk. Upon arrival, it looks much more like a club with neon pink lights everywhere! However, this isn't the important part of the story. What I remember the MOST and still cringe about is this couple who sat near us for dinner. I didn't notice it at first but someone pointed out that the two did not talk...at all. I thought surely that couldn't be the case and then started to pay attention. I'll be damned, but they REALLY did not talk at all. The man sat with his head on a swivel and looked left periodically, then right, then left, then right...passing over what we'll call his 'date'. The woman stared blankly ahead, and for a little while even interjected herself into a conversation at the adjacent table. However, the entire time, they didn't talk! I've never seen anything like it and almost wanted to walk near them and pretend to trip and fall JUST so it would help jump start their conversation. I'm not trying to pat my own back on this, but I've never been on a date where it was THAT awkward. Yes, sometimes there are brief moments when you don't have anything to say, or the conversation is a bit dry and both people start eating faster just so they can end the date sooner, but this was a whole new level. It made me wonder, what if I become that man in x number of years, sitting across someone that I absolutely have nothing to say to. Sad, eh? Anyways, to top it off, this couple was seated when we arrived, and remained sitting there when we were finished dinner and left! This confuses me because if it were such a bad date, you'd think they would want to just get it over with and leave? Maybe I am wrong and they were having a great time?! Who knows.

Now, fast forward to Nice on Tuesday. The group is taking off to Monaco but I stay in Nice because I have a flight back to London later that same night. I've got about four hours to kill before I need to head towards the airport and for 30 minutes or so I shop around. This quickly gets boring since I can't buy anything due tiny bag I brought for the weekend (ie. just a messenger bag stuffed to the brim with dirty clothes now). From there, I slowly wander down to the rocky beach to just sit and relax for a few before deciding what to do next. A few minutes turns into a few hours, and I find myself lodged firmly on the rocks, just looking out at the sea, listening as the water crashes against the shore, and thoroughly enjoying the moment. Like I said before, it was a moment to just stop and smell the roses! Oh, and see old topless women who don't have a care in the world. I hope you get a visual of that so you have to suffer just like I did.

Overall, what a great trip though! I met some new friends, ate some fantastic food (and in excess quantities), and laughed quite a few laughs.

I'll give the part 2 update on my long weekend travels after I get back from sailing in Croatia this weekend. Life is good.

Inspiration comes in so many different shapes and sizes

What inspires you to _____? Fill in the blank. Why do you put in the hard work that no one will ever see, punish your mind and / or body, cope with all the mental and physical pain that comes along the way?

Today, I had the fortunes to volunteer at the finish line of the 2011 London Marathon. Many of you know that I had run my first marathon last October in Athens, Greece, and many of you hear me talking about future races I want to take part in. However, I've never actually watched a marathon before as a spectator. Needless to say, if you've ever had an itch to run marathon but are on the edge whether you can run that far, do yourself a favor and go watch one in person. You will be brought to tears, and if you don't get inspired, you are a cold cold emotionless robot! I was so blown away today by the thirty six thousand plus nameless athletes, only identifiable by a bib number, coming across the finish line. You can easily read about or hear the stories of the elite runners, and don't get me wrong, they are super heroes running at sub five minute mile paces (for comparison, I ran the 5th Ave Mile challenge last year and completed it in 5:26 and almost died at the finish line while the elite men and women all maintain a faster pace for 26.2 miles), however, I was truly inspired by the regular folks who tossed and turned sleeplessly in bed last night counting down the hours remaining and counting up all the training runs, those who got up and rode the tube to the start line at the break of dawn, and those who nervously waited in their corrals while everyone inched forward waiting for their chance to start the run.

I cannot tell you the number of times I saw runners collapse within 200m of the finish line...their bodies physically giving out under all the duress, but whose minds, will power, and determination begged their bodies to cooperate, if only just for a few more steps before collapsing again. The crowds honed in as well and would erupt in cheers as they encouraged these nameless runners (who they would never meet) to push forward. Often times, the staff would be forced to make their way onto the course and provide a shoulder for the runner to lean on through the last few hundred steps before the finish. These runners were amazing. I did not see anyone give up...as a matter of fact, as I watched these people, I noticed the singular focus in their eyes as they locked onto the finish line and shakingly put their left foot in front of their right, then their right in front of their left. Today, they were not going to be refused the title of 'champion'.

As I watched runner after runner coming through the last turn, seeing the '200 meters to go' sign, I wondered what inspired each and every one of them? Why were they out there today pounding concrete, giving it their all?

I will never know the answers exactly, but by watching them, I have come away with a new found inspiration why it is that I plead with my legs and lungs to just let me run to the next light pole ahead, and then to the following one, and then just a bit further after that.

Whatever goals you set, find what it is that inspires you to want to do it in the first place. When the going gets tough, let this inspiration carry you. It won't fail. Best of luck to you!

PS - as I wrote this, I ate an ice cream sandwich and half a bag of chips...YUM. Gulp.

What not to eat before going on a run

I have learned two valuable lessons today that I'd like to share so that no one else has to endure the pain I suffered.

Lesson 1 - Eating cheesecake is great, but eating cheesecake before going on a long run makes your stomach want to quit its day job

Lesson 2 - Kettle cooked chips are delicious, but again, not before a run. Tasting these chips time and time again as you burp and ALMOST vomit on yourself does not make for a fun time.

With that said, I had an amazing run today. I didn't run that far, nor did I run very fast (due to the two lessons learned above), but it was gorgeous weather outside today and it would've been a crime not to go get some miles in along the River Thames. Normally I would run a loop so that I can end roughly where I start...this ensures I can get back to my place and can eat some food and shower right away (okay fine, I admit that sometimes I just sit around for an hour before showering because I get an extreme case of laziness) so that the sweat doesn't cake on my skin and make me look like a salt mine. However, as I started my run today, I thought, 'lets just see how far I can go, and what sights I can take in along the way'! It was almost like a 2-for-1 deal...I'd get some exercise and as a side benefit, I'd get to do some sight seeing! For anyone who knows me, you know how I'm a complete sucker for deals.

So what did I see? From what I know, I passed by Buckingham Palace, the London Eye, Tate Modern, The Globe Theater, and the Millennium Bridge. I really wanted to make it to Tower Bridge, but my weak sauce legs prevented me from going that far. Sad. Maybe next time!

The big thing I didn't plan for was how I'd get back. I also forgot how much longer it takes to cover the same distance walking versus running! 'No worries', I thought, 'its a beautiful day out there and I'll slowly just backtrack...

Two and a half hours later, (looking like a man who just crossed the Sahara desert), I finally crawled back to my place...ravenous with hunger and thirst.

Ohh, lesson #3 - carry some money when you go out running, just in case you decide to not run in a loop, you still have the ability to buy something to drink or eat!

I distinctly remember two moments where I almost caved in. The first was when I was walking across a bridge and saw a quarter of a soft pretzel that must've been dropped or discarded earlier in the day. I won't lie, I looked behind me to see if there was anyone within range that would see me pick it up and eat it. Sadly, there was a large group across the street so I kept on walking, imagining how good the pretzel would've tasted (assuming it was still fresh, and hadn't been stepped on my throngs of people earlier in the day). Salty foods and carbs are the best after running! The second moment was when I walked by a bench along the river along my endless voyage, and there was some kind of half empty cup of orange (?) juice in a Starbucks plastic cup just sitting there. (Side note, is it half full, or half empty?! haha) Again, for a brief moment, I thought about taking a sip because I was so parched! Worry not though, I came to my senses and realized I came THAT close to eating garbage and leftovers on the street. Next time, I'm definitely taking some bills so I can enjoy a nice (fresh) glass of orange juice and a soft (not left over) pretzel knowing I deserve it after a long run on a beautiful day.

What can I say, life is good =) I can't believe I've been in London for over a month now...time flies!

The familiar things you take for granted, but shouldn't!

When my hair gets too long, I look ridiculous. I don't mean in a good way either. I have really coarse hair, and it never just 'sits' on my head. It grows up and outward forever and ever...actually, it looks as if I've licked my finger and then stuck it in a socket! For the last three years, I've visited the SAME barber at Kelly's Hair Salon in Chinatown in New York. I have no clue what his name is, he has no clue what mine is, but we have a connection. Every time I walk in, he asks (in Chinese), 'how do you want it cut?', and every time, I reply 'not too short, not too long either'. Then, he just goes to work. EACH time, my hair comes out just the way I like it. Each time, I leave him the same tip, and he always wishes me well, to be safe, and to come back soon. I've taken this small, but significant routine in my life for granted. Before I left New York for London, I made sure to get my hair cut to make sure I could hold out as long as possible.

Last weekend though, I reached the tipping point. Each morning prior, I've been pasting more and more American Crew 'Fiber' into my hair in a feeble attempt to justify why I didn't need a hair cut yet. However, my Saturday morning, I concluded I could not make it one more day. Back in New York, I'd simply hop on the 6 train, go to see 'my man', get my cut, then go to Ten Ren for a bubble tea, then to Fey Da for a coconut bun. I've made the trip so many times I could do it with my eyes closed. Too bad I wasn't in New York anymore. I recalled there was a hair salon near the tube station and wandered all the way over only to get that 'nawww, I don't think this is going to be the place' reaction. I then walked down the street away from my place in search of a suitable replacement. Most places seemed to cater for high end women's cuts, and I surely wasn't going in there to only tell them that I wanted my hair cut 'not too short, not too long either'. Looking high, and low, left, and right, I finally found what seemed to be a suitable barber shop. Long story short, I cannot wait to go back to New York just so I can see my guy.

I've learned two lessons from my experience:

1. Never trust a bald man to cut your hair! It's just like: you don't trust a dentist that has bad teeth, or a running coach that is overweight, or a restaurant chef that is way too skinny. Don't trust a blind guy for fashion tips, a wedding planner that isn't married, a basketball coach that is 5 feet tall, or an accountant that is up to his / her butt in debt. I could go on forever...you get the point.

2. Never take your barber for granted! If you have a good guy, don't go switching it up just for the fun of it. Stick to your guy. If you don't have a good guy yet, go to Kelly's Hair Salon, and use the first dude on your left (he always wears a vest). He is good, trust me!

Stopping to smell the roses

Today (Tuesday) was the first time I've left my apartment since early Saturday evening! Don't worry, I've still kept some semblance of civility and showered almost everyday...gulp. I performed a self diagnosis (using WebMD) and determined I came down with the flu. I seriously cannot remember the last time I had the flu, guess this is my body performing a check up to make sure the good ol' immune system is still working as it should! Note to self - get my flu shot from now on so I don't have to go through this again. Anyways, it has TKO'ed me without compassion until I finally mustered the strength this morning to go get some stronger medicine. Having taken that during the day, I felt some renewed energy in the evening and decided to go get some groceries. The alternative would have been to start eating boiled pasta (with no sauce), or cardboard boxes, or start flipping through my trash can for leftover grains of rice and rotten curry sauce.

Now, I've always been a big believer in looking at the bright side of things, so let me tell you what I've taken away from all of this...besides the need to get a flu shot. For me, being sick and frail offered one of the most peaceful walks I've had in a long time! True, it may because I was still achy and couldn't walk as half as I normally do, BUT let me try to explain: every morning, I am in such a rush to get to the office on time. My main goal is to (1) see how many people I can speed walk past while (2) not tripping over what I'll call 'brick monsters' that seem to always stick out JUST as you pass by only to disappear again when you look back at what caused you to almost face plant so that I can (3) board the tube in hopes that I won't be standing next to a huge smelly dude who insists on inching his armpit towards my nose the entire ride. Four weeks in, and I can honestly say I've barely stopped to "smell the roses" along such a quaint neighborhood that I am calling 'home'.

Tonight though, I got to do that. Let me tell you, being deathly sick brings you back to the simple pleasures that we take for granted! I looked at and appreciated all the houses as I walked by (fine, I'll admit that I paid special attention to those neighbors that don't close their blinds in hopes to see something good haha), noticed and smelled the flowers that are blooming along the sidewalk, admired the runners who were out for an evening jog while I was bundled up in a sweater and a fleece, and (unfortunately) also caught a few whiffs of second hand smoke. That is a whole different topic...but man, so many more people smoke here than back in New York. What's up with that? For the ladies out there - smoking is a huge turn off. Please stop smoking, NOW!

Now, I wouldn't wish anyone to get as sick as I am right now (I'm on the mend though, thanks for your concern!), but I do wish everyone could take a moment out of your busy day to put away your iPods / iPads / iPhones / iAnythingElse, slow down just a bit from that power walk, and just, enjoy it all for one second. Watch as all the hectic things in life zooms right by, and just take in the sights, sounds, and smells around you (assuming you didn't just stop by a landfill of course). Isn't it great?!

Tomorrow, I'll be back to my power walk, but tonight was so peaceful as I dragged my achy body around the neighborhood.

PS - this post was brought to you by 2 non drowsy flu pills, half a roll of toilet paper from my runny nose, and a dirty Nike DriFit shirt that I've been wearing for two days now...let's just say when you get the sweats, moisture wicking material feels so much better than a damp cotton shirt. I hope what I've said above isn't just a delirious and incoherent rambling! If it is, I blame the medicine.

My body hates me

In all of 2010, I may have been sick one time. So far in 2011 though, I've already come across my second illness. I had a nagging cough that I FINALLY got rid of after getting to London. However, I've now got something super nasty that has knocked me on my arse. Yesterday, I went running in the morning (marathon training has started!), but after I got back home, I felt super exhausted and incredibly cold. I took a nap for 2 hours and then felt much better...however, later in the day, after the Oxford vs. Cambridge boat race (which by the way we didn't even see the boats since we were busy drinking at the pub), I was DONE and DONE.

Today, I've been sideways on the couch at best. I was supposed to head up to Cambridge to go golfing but I knew that wasn't happening as soon as I woke up and could barely get out of bed. Have you ever had the sweats one minute, but then been super cold another? Is that a fever or something? Either way, I cannot remember the last time I've felt this bad physically...

Let us hope that I can shake this off once and for all very soon. Since I only have three total months abroad, I have this desire to maximize every weekend and not sit around being a bum! I plan to spend next weekend exploring London...do you have any 'must see and must do' things I should tackle?

Time flies, faster than a speeding bullet shot out of a gun by Superman...

I cannot believe that it has almost been three weeks since I first arrived in London! If you ask me, I'd tell you that I JUST got here a few days ago, but then when I look at a calendar, I realize that TIME FLIES! The concept of time is so strange if you think about it. As a kid and a young adult, school determines your length of time and is measured in semesters and in school years. Each semester, you are in a new class, with new classmates, a new curriculum, and new homework. This starts from the preschool days and goes all the way until university graduation. For most of us, this encompasses the majority of our lives! However, since work has started (wow, almost 4 years ago), the whole concept of time has shifted. There aren't any more spring breaks to look forward to, no summer vacations lounging by the pool, and not as many big changes that used to occur at the turn of each semester! This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but causes to you evaluate what time even means. Anyways, back to the point I was making - in no time, I'll have been living and working in London for one month, two, three...

...I must make the most of the opportunity!

On that note, last weekend, I went on a quick weekend trip to Amsterdam. When I got to the airport, I bought a train ticket to Amsterdam Central train station, but I couldn't get figure out how to pay using the ticket machine...no, not because I'm retarded or anything, but because US credit cards and debit cards don't have a chip that European machines require. After attempting for a few minutes, a very nice Dutch girl tried to help me out but to no avail. I'll be honest, at first, I thought she was going to steal my credit card, and only found out much later that the Dutch are known to be very friendly and helpful. So, after both of us couldn't figure it out, I went to the counter, bought a ticket, and specifically asked, 'what platform and what time'. I swear the person told me, 'platform 3 at 11:37am'. I went to platform 3, boarded the 11:37am train, and sat back to relax, waiting to arrive in Amsterdam city center within 20 minutes. 10 minutes into the ride, I'm very excited and looking ahead to see if I can catch any glimpses of the city. 15 minutes in, I start to get a little bit worried because I don't see much happening. 20 minutes in, I remember that I should already be there but don't think too much about it, thinking, 'meh, the train is probably just running a bit late'. 25 minutes in, out of curiosity, I pull out my blackberry and look at Google maps...to see that my location icon tells me I'm heading further and further AWAY from the city! Long story short, I end up in Aimere. I'll chalk up this first adventure as the 'scenic route' to Amsterdam. No worries, when these things happen, I just take an opportunity to laugh at myself, and then tell the world about my stupidity!

While in Amsterdam, I met up with Andrew (childhood friend and old roommate from New York) and met a few of his friends. (I can't remember her name, but he called her J-Lo, so I'll call that too...) J-Lo had been living there for 1.5 years now and is on her way to learn Dutch. She said, Dutch is somewhat like English. However, it is as if you taught a five year old how to speak English, and as soon as they started to grasp it, you forced them to live in isolation in the woods, only to allow them back once they were there for 15 years. Then, you ask them to speak, and that is what Dutch sounds like. I thought, 'no way', but then she told us a couple of phrases, immediately all of us said, 'YEP, I now know what you mean'!

Also while in Amsterdam, Andrew and I hung out with another one of his friends (Stephen) who is there doing his PhD program. While visiting his 'real dutch apartment', he explained that there is very few options for housing for a foreigner. The first way that Dutch people get housing is through the social system (?) but the wait line is incredibly long. As a matter of fact, most Dutch parents will sign up their children before they are even born. Then, 18+ years later, they have a chance to get a low cost piece of real estate. The other way to get housing is through the private system (?), but this costs significantly more. As a reference point, Stephen's apartment would cost around 250 Euros / month through the social system but somewhere around 2000 Euros / month on the private market! Unfortunately, this means the real losers are the foreigners =(

Aside from that, Amsterdam was a blur. And no, not because of what you think. All throughout college, when people talked about going to Europe, it was viewed as a 'big trip'. I've held Europe in the same light, yet found myself in flying over on Saturday morning, and flying back on a Sunday night. Living in Europe must be so great because you could do these weekend jaunts whenever you wanted to. No big plans, travel guides, 'see everything and do everything' mentality needed!

I'm hooked and already planning some other trips. Croatia? Portugal? Poland? So many choices!

What can I say, life is good. No, I take that back, life is GREAT!

London town, first week fini!

Just to recap, I've now spent an entire week living and working in London! Here are some of my first impressions, thoughts, and realizations:

• I have a flat in Chelsea, and this neighborhood is way too posh for me. Wow, I've just used flat and posh, two words that I did not possess in my vocabulary one week ago! Speaking of which, their are so many terms here that you should know if you ever visit. I'll be continuously adding to this list, worry not.

1. What Americans call 'suspenders' (for pants) are known here as 'braces' here. This should never be confused. Suspenders in the UK are what we call garter belts. I brought this up in conversation at work, and my teammates just stared at me disapprovingly. Let's just say I made a great first impression. To make it clear - women wear suspenders, men wear braces. Got it? Well, thinking more about it, I guess women could also wear braces...but men should never wear suspenders. Did I just blow your mind?
2. A co-worker mentioned very causally that this short and muscular guy (on another team) would make a great 'hooker'. If you know me, you'll know that I'm quite immature. I looked around the room to make sure I wasn't the only one who heard that before bursting out laughing to notice that everyone took it in stride. I bit my tongue, sitting there quite confused why no one thought it was hilarious. I only later found out they were talking about a rugby position, and not a...profession.
3. Don't say 'fanny'. While such an innocent word in the States, 'fanny' refers to something completely different. You can look it up if you don't believe me!
4. Don't say 'double fisting' a beer (ie. holding two beers at the same time) at a team happy hour. Double fisting does only has one meaning here, and it doesn't mean to hold two beers. Again, you can look this up and entertain yourself.
5. They have 'rocket' salad, which as cool as it sounds, is just arugula salad. What a disappointment!

• Not only do the British drive on the left (aka wrong) side of the road, they also walk on the left (aka wrong) side of the road. For whatever reason this blows my mind! I just can't seem to grasp it naturally and always find myself swimming up river like salmon do during migration season. The worst comes when crossing the street. I have to say this out loud each time to 'look right, then look left' but yet I'll instinctively turn left first, then right. I'm trying to keep a tally of the number of times I've been ALMOST run over, and right now, its at 3. That's not too bad, right?
• I think the best way to see the city is to run through it. I logged my first run of the season along the Thames River (which for some unknown reason is actually pronounced 'temz') Saturday afternoon and it was fantastic. What a good double whammy: I will get to explore all the cool neighborhoods street-by-street and I'll be able to slowly get back into running shape while I'm here.
• The weather in London has been FANTASTIC (with the exception of today). Every single day, it has been bright and sunny so far, and I cannot complain. Then, I hear back that its cold, windy, and there were floods in some parts of New York? What is happening?!
• The food in London is not half as bad as people make it out to be! Well, I will admit, I've eaten lunch from the cafeteria each day, but I've been impressed by the selection. If you know me, you'll also know that I'm also always impressed by quantity, and 2 out of 5 days, I could not even finish my lunch because it had so much food in it. AWESOME! Sadly, I've learned there are quite a few things that they are missing here. The most evident is good pizza. My mind instantly begins to wonder how I can bring a Grimaldi's Pizzeria here. It would make a KILLING! I thought Chipotle would be missing here too, but heard that they've opened a location here. PHEW. Other weird things that you can't find me: graham crackers. Supposedly ex-pats will bring over boxes of graham crackers and freeze them to preserve the shelf life. I can't remember the last time I've made s'mores, but now that one of the key ingredients is gone, I really really want one.
• What is it about British accents that are so attractive? I haven't decided if British girls are better looking than American girls just yet. I don't think I'll ever be able to conclude. The biggest problem is, I give at least one point on the scale to the girls here just because of their accents!

Okay, hope you've had enough of the brain vomit I've just provided. Next weekend, I'm headed off on my first continental Europe trip to Amsterdam. I'm really looking forward to all the museums and architecture that it has to offer. Then, the following weekend, its off to Cambridge for some golf.

Life is good!

My life, summarized in a few boxes…

I’ve been getting ready for London and packing all my possessions into boxes over the last week or so. I find that clothes are the easiest to pack, but the random trinkets and cards related to some very rich memories and experiences over the past year that are lying around are a bit more challenging to just ‘box up’ or throw away. First of all, let it be known that I don’t belong on that TLC show, “Hoarders”! But as an example, do I toss out the movie ticket stub that means way more than just the movie that was seen? I mean, it really is just a piece of paper, right? Or how about the two lollipops that I found in my change jar from one of a favorite restaurant? Elsewhere, these would be two very simple pieces of candy. However, both items represent much more. I feel like my room is an entire collection of these things!

I think it all stems from the self awareness that I have a horrible memory. Without these little tokens, I fear that in a few short weeks / months, I’ll just forget. It’ll be as good as none of those things ever happening…sad.

Fast forward to today: my room has been flipped upside down, not much has been sorted out just yet, and I find myself procrastinating even though I have a flight to catch on Saturday night. Secretly, I guess I’m just a bit nervous about leaving my comfort zone (New York) that I’ve called home for the last 3.5 years.

For those who don’t already know, I’ll be relocating to London for work for three months! I’ve been set up with a wonderful ‘flat’ (http://chelsea.frasershospitality.com/ ) in Chelsea and will be riding the ‘tube’ to work everyday in March, April, and May. I hope you’ll follow along on this blog as I’ll provide periodic updates on my new life across the pond. I’ll try my best to entertain you with some of the funnier, more exotic, and interesting things I come across. Who knows, maybe I’ll even pick up an accent! Cheerio! *I wonder if people actually say, Cheerio?* Random fact, but I really only have two rules put in place by my manager: (1) bring back good chocolate, and (2) don’t fall in love with a British girl. How awesome, eh!

I expect to maximize my weekends and take flights throughout to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell all of Europe that I didn’t make it to during my first go-around (see below for info on that trip). Any and all suggestions are welcome.

Final point for tonight before I get back to packing – if you are my friend, and you are thinking about going to London, or already plan to, you are MORE than welcome to come crash with me. Just look at my cool ‘flat’, there will be lots of space, so go ahead and pull the trigger and buy that plane ticket already!

Hmmm, what should I do with that sea shell that was put into my suitcase when I last went to the beach?...maybe I should apply to be the next person on ‘Hoarders’…

See you on the flip side. Cheers!