*** Click to enlarge image. ***
Friday, October 28, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Run for Your Lives: Notes from the Zombie Apocolypse #Z5K
There comes a time in every man's life when he must pony up to survive the Zombie Apocalypse or submit to become fodder for the walking undead. Although that might seem a bit farfetched, that's exactly how my little brother Mikey pitched the first annual "Run for Your Lives" 5k mud run.
The course was designed as a traditional off trail mud run with obstacles peppered throughout the course with one significant distinction: zombie hazards around every bend. Runners were equip with a flag-football belt with three red flags. Zombies attack runners to swipe their flags (aka hit points) and runners try their best to stay alive.
Considering my past inexperience and under-training with this strain of race, I decided err on the side of male bravado (once again) and register for the course. That, and I would be participating with a pair of non-runners. . . not to mention my good friend and running buddy Jon who doubled-up the event as his pre-wedding bachelor outing.
It was set, we had our cast of characters: the jort-wearing hipster, the absent-minded professor, the Dudley Do-Right leader, and the shifty-eyed brooder. We speculated which would survive based on TV Tropes, and formulated our strategy for survival. The black sharpie marker emblazoned on my brother's stark white T-shirt said it best: I'll trip you first.
We were slated to run in the 8:00 AM wave, and had arrived in Shuresville, MD (just outside of Baltimore) well over an hour advance of start time. I could foresee parking would be problematic later on, as cars were already getting stuck in the mud first thing in the morning... and the event catered onward until 5:00 PM! Very reminiscent of festival parking.
The packet pickup system was chaotic at best. Participants were crammed into a carnival style tent with no discernible line leading into three checkpoints: running bib, flag-football belt, and runner's swag. The latter was especially disappointing: a WarWear (which I re-dubbed WarioWear) knockoff UnderArmor shirt with no event logo. Event shirts were for sale at the mercy tent. Lame.
That's where my criticisms start and end. The rest of the day was pure kick ass.
The event started in a canopied chute that blocked out visibility of any obstacles. Runners were channeled into one of three queue's: Appetizer for the elite runners, Entree for the 8 - 12 min/mi jogging crowd, and Dessert for the +12 min/mi walkers. Waves were released every 30 minutes. Since parking and registration took over two hours, we jumped into the 10:30 wave (which did not pose any problem).
In a matter of seconds, our cohort hurtled out of the chute in a surge of athletes running to an uncertain fate. We were pumped out into an open field inhabited by dozens upon dozens of zombies. I lost my footing, and slide down a grassy embankment, only to abruptly crash into the shins of a zombie. Somehow I managed to dart off to the side, narrowly evading the first wave of attack.
Now disoriented and dislodged from the guys, I trudged onward. Avoiding erratic runners proved quite a challenge. Finding myself wedged between a runner and the woods, a zombie managed to grab my first flag. Let me tell you, the zombies were very realistic in both make-up and role play. The whole event felt as if I was dropped into an episode of "Walking Dead." Poor luck or not, I managed to reconnect with the group within the first half-mile.
Run For Your Lives 2011 from Alexander Turoff on Vimeo.
Much of the running took place up hill, in sloppy mud, with hoards of zombies waiting at the top. Let's just say that hill training mixed with wind sprints was the perfect way to train for the event. I underestimated my ability to bob and weave. For my every zig, another zombie was ready to catch me on the zag back.
Flags two and three fell down quickly and I was marked for certain death unless I could locate another health pack rumored to be hidden on the course. Keep in mind runners were prohibited from picked up a pulled flag from the ground. The rulebook stated that cheaters might have their timed invalidated or else be removed from the course.
It's challenging to survive the zombie apocalypse solo; groups enhance survival.
Bands of strangers bonded together in numbers with the impromptu plan to surge the mountainside. Always run behind and towards the middle. Safety in numbers. This is exactly how my brother and his friend, the non-runners, managed to survive much of the race. We also conserved strength by plodding along at a comfortable pace, knowing we might have to high-tail at any given second.
All in all, the event was entirely worth the $80 price of admission. "Run for Your Lives" is far more than a themed mud run; it was also a full blown festival complete with a beer tent and an entire day's lineup of live music. Imagine health fair expo mashed up with Comic-Con… then add in copious amounts of zombie makeup and you might have some idea of the "Party at the End of the World" (as it was billed).
Next year I might be interested in volunteering as a Zombie and camping out after the event (which was $$$ add-on). Hopefully the series will continue to improve throughout this year, and will be a more refined race experience in 2012.
The course was designed as a traditional off trail mud run with obstacles peppered throughout the course with one significant distinction: zombie hazards around every bend. Runners were equip with a flag-football belt with three red flags. Zombies attack runners to swipe their flags (aka hit points) and runners try their best to stay alive.
Considering my past inexperience and under-training with this strain of race, I decided err on the side of male bravado (once again) and register for the course. That, and I would be participating with a pair of non-runners. . . not to mention my good friend and running buddy Jon who doubled-up the event as his pre-wedding bachelor outing.
It was set, we had our cast of characters: the jort-wearing hipster, the absent-minded professor, the Dudley Do-Right leader, and the shifty-eyed brooder. We speculated which would survive based on TV Tropes, and formulated our strategy for survival. The black sharpie marker emblazoned on my brother's stark white T-shirt said it best: I'll trip you first.
We were slated to run in the 8:00 AM wave, and had arrived in Shuresville, MD (just outside of Baltimore) well over an hour advance of start time. I could foresee parking would be problematic later on, as cars were already getting stuck in the mud first thing in the morning... and the event catered onward until 5:00 PM! Very reminiscent of festival parking.
The packet pickup system was chaotic at best. Participants were crammed into a carnival style tent with no discernible line leading into three checkpoints: running bib, flag-football belt, and runner's swag. The latter was especially disappointing: a WarWear (which I re-dubbed WarioWear) knockoff UnderArmor shirt with no event logo. Event shirts were for sale at the mercy tent. Lame.
That's where my criticisms start and end. The rest of the day was pure kick ass.
The event started in a canopied chute that blocked out visibility of any obstacles. Runners were channeled into one of three queue's: Appetizer for the elite runners, Entree for the 8 - 12 min/mi jogging crowd, and Dessert for the +12 min/mi walkers. Waves were released every 30 minutes. Since parking and registration took over two hours, we jumped into the 10:30 wave (which did not pose any problem).
In a matter of seconds, our cohort hurtled out of the chute in a surge of athletes running to an uncertain fate. We were pumped out into an open field inhabited by dozens upon dozens of zombies. I lost my footing, and slide down a grassy embankment, only to abruptly crash into the shins of a zombie. Somehow I managed to dart off to the side, narrowly evading the first wave of attack.
Now disoriented and dislodged from the guys, I trudged onward. Avoiding erratic runners proved quite a challenge. Finding myself wedged between a runner and the woods, a zombie managed to grab my first flag. Let me tell you, the zombies were very realistic in both make-up and role play. The whole event felt as if I was dropped into an episode of "Walking Dead." Poor luck or not, I managed to reconnect with the group within the first half-mile.
Run For Your Lives 2011 from Alexander Turoff on Vimeo.
Much of the running took place up hill, in sloppy mud, with hoards of zombies waiting at the top. Let's just say that hill training mixed with wind sprints was the perfect way to train for the event. I underestimated my ability to bob and weave. For my every zig, another zombie was ready to catch me on the zag back.
Flags two and three fell down quickly and I was marked for certain death unless I could locate another health pack rumored to be hidden on the course. Keep in mind runners were prohibited from picked up a pulled flag from the ground. The rulebook stated that cheaters might have their timed invalidated or else be removed from the course.
It's challenging to survive the zombie apocalypse solo; groups enhance survival.
Bands of strangers bonded together in numbers with the impromptu plan to surge the mountainside. Always run behind and towards the middle. Safety in numbers. This is exactly how my brother and his friend, the non-runners, managed to survive much of the race. We also conserved strength by plodding along at a comfortable pace, knowing we might have to high-tail at any given second.
All in all, the event was entirely worth the $80 price of admission. "Run for Your Lives" is far more than a themed mud run; it was also a full blown festival complete with a beer tent and an entire day's lineup of live music. Imagine health fair expo mashed up with Comic-Con… then add in copious amounts of zombie makeup and you might have some idea of the "Party at the End of the World" (as it was billed).
Next year I might be interested in volunteering as a Zombie and camping out after the event (which was $$$ add-on). Hopefully the series will continue to improve throughout this year, and will be a more refined race experience in 2012.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Playing Little Big Planet with my Toddler as Father / Son Time
Developmental milestones never cease to amaze me. Like the time P-Finn first managed to toddle up the staircase… and into the library to grab a CD out of it's jewel case, toddle back down the steps, and successfully insert it into the DVD player. And just under two years of age. Your either born with that technology intuition or not, and my son seemed to have it.
Just saying'.
So it came as no surprise when P-Finn asked me to have the second game controller having observed me play video games. Not wanting to ruin my current high score, I handed him a dummy controller and attempted to con him into believing that he could manipulate the main character. P-Finn didn't fall for it one bit.
In what ever three-word sentence he could string together , this child firmly requested a live joystick (or else he would commandeer mine). Seeing no other possible course of action, I plugged the little guy in. Left. Right. And use the "X" button to jump. Very straight forward. And wouldn't you know, my little kid had it figured out in only a matter of seconds.
Again, just sayin'.
P-Finn and I quickly and deeply fell in love with the cooperative style of Playstation 3's "Little Big Planet." The game is a physics-based platformer set in a world of imaginative creation. Entire levels are pieced together using various swaths of cloth, cardboard, stickers, and puppets. It's all the fun of arts and crafts... packed into a video game.
The DIY theme carries straight through into the level creation toolkit. Not only did Patrick and I attempt to build our own railroad-themed levels, but we tapped into the wealth of community created levels... well over five million of them! We spend most of our time in Little Big Planet playing through the various community created, railroad levels (especially the ones created by JubJub67 and TSFRJ).
It's one thing to watch trains in movies or television, but it's something else to get behind a freight engine and virtually pull a load of box cars. There is nothing better to a train-enthused, three-year-old. And it's become one of many father / son activities we've come to enjoy together as of late.
Just saying'.
So it came as no surprise when P-Finn asked me to have the second game controller having observed me play video games. Not wanting to ruin my current high score, I handed him a dummy controller and attempted to con him into believing that he could manipulate the main character. P-Finn didn't fall for it one bit.
In what ever three-word sentence he could string together , this child firmly requested a live joystick (or else he would commandeer mine). Seeing no other possible course of action, I plugged the little guy in. Left. Right. And use the "X" button to jump. Very straight forward. And wouldn't you know, my little kid had it figured out in only a matter of seconds.
Again, just sayin'.
P-Finn and I quickly and deeply fell in love with the cooperative style of Playstation 3's "Little Big Planet." The game is a physics-based platformer set in a world of imaginative creation. Entire levels are pieced together using various swaths of cloth, cardboard, stickers, and puppets. It's all the fun of arts and crafts... packed into a video game.
The DIY theme carries straight through into the level creation toolkit. Not only did Patrick and I attempt to build our own railroad-themed levels, but we tapped into the wealth of community created levels... well over five million of them! We spend most of our time in Little Big Planet playing through the various community created, railroad levels (especially the ones created by JubJub67 and TSFRJ).
It's one thing to watch trains in movies or television, but it's something else to get behind a freight engine and virtually pull a load of box cars. There is nothing better to a train-enthused, three-year-old. And it's become one of many father / son activities we've come to enjoy together as of late.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
"What Sarah Said": a lo-fi, live action web comic (episode 9, Feeling Kinda Blue)
*** Click to enlarge image. ***"What Sarah Said": a lo-fi, live action web comic (episode 8, What Sarah Didn't Say)
*** Click on image to enlarge. *** Sunday, October 9, 2011
"What Sarah Said": a lo-fi, live action web comic (episode 7, Going Hulu)
*** Click image to enlarge. ***
When Netflix decided to split their business model into streaming content with their mail delivery service (renamed Qwikster), I decided to downgrade my account to streaming only. This decision was made on the premise that my son could continue to watch an entire digital library of "Thomas and Friends" any hour of the day.
Since I've now managed to watch every A-list movie and way too many three-star B-movies to count, it seems D-grade content is all that remains. Crap. Crap. And utter crap. Yes Shaolin vs. Evil Dead, I mean you! There's only so much SyFy Saturday monster made-for-TV movies that can get passed along as cinema before one begins to despair.
Looking forward to breaking my cable contract with Verizon Fios and going the way of either Hulu Plus or Qwikster (aka old Netflix). Then again, I might re-initiate my passion for Miro and figure out what internet TV is worth watching... as it can't be any worse than either cable or streaming movies.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Maura Fern: A NICU Infant's Development (Feed Her, Grow Her)
I thought Maura would never grow. Two months in the NICU and she hadn't gained as much as an inch or a pound in all that time; her entry weight was nearly the same size upon departure. She was our perma-infant, to live out her life in some nightmarish, never-ending NICU loop.
By the time she came home, her weight percentile was only in the single digits. Two months old and she still fit into newborn clothing with plenty of wiggle room. We had one immediate goal: feed her, grow her. And yes, within a matter of weeks our dear little Miss Maura wasn't so little after all: she had jumped to 70% in her weight class!
My daughter's skinny chicken legs had butterballed into some massive thunder thighs! Even her ankles and knees were draped in rolling flabs of baby fat. Can't say that I would ever have another opportunity in my entire lifetime to compliment anyone of the opposite gender on exponential weight gain.
There's no question Maura's physical growth was a blessing, though it also caused significant complications. Two month of laying prone in a hospital bed had not only delayed her gross motor skills, but had actually atrophied whatever muscles she was born with. Now add to that the added healthy girth of a breastfed baby.
Thankfully Maura qualified for Early Intervention. Having worked for 10 years in the mainstream model of special education, it was odd to be on the opposite side of evaluations and the crafting of an intervention plan. We were to work alongside a physical therapist on tummy time exercises to enhance her core muscle groups.
It was more than obvious that a task as simple as holding her head up was not physically possible… at first. It took another two months just to gain enough neck control for her noggin to teeter back and forth like a bobble head. Needless to say, I'm simply astounded by how much strength Maura has gained in just the past two weeks alone.
We noticed her getting antsy when placed in an incline position. She'd strain every last abdominal muscle to bend herself forward. It was then we got the idea to try placing her in an exercise saucer. She took to it right away. Although she doesn't quite have enough strength to balance her torso, she appears quite content to stand supported in an upright position.
Five months in the making, this milestone feels like a major breakthrough and a Win for the little lady.
By the time she came home, her weight percentile was only in the single digits. Two months old and she still fit into newborn clothing with plenty of wiggle room. We had one immediate goal: feed her, grow her. And yes, within a matter of weeks our dear little Miss Maura wasn't so little after all: she had jumped to 70% in her weight class!
My daughter's skinny chicken legs had butterballed into some massive thunder thighs! Even her ankles and knees were draped in rolling flabs of baby fat. Can't say that I would ever have another opportunity in my entire lifetime to compliment anyone of the opposite gender on exponential weight gain.
There's no question Maura's physical growth was a blessing, though it also caused significant complications. Two month of laying prone in a hospital bed had not only delayed her gross motor skills, but had actually atrophied whatever muscles she was born with. Now add to that the added healthy girth of a breastfed baby.
Thankfully Maura qualified for Early Intervention. Having worked for 10 years in the mainstream model of special education, it was odd to be on the opposite side of evaluations and the crafting of an intervention plan. We were to work alongside a physical therapist on tummy time exercises to enhance her core muscle groups.
It was more than obvious that a task as simple as holding her head up was not physically possible… at first. It took another two months just to gain enough neck control for her noggin to teeter back and forth like a bobble head. Needless to say, I'm simply astounded by how much strength Maura has gained in just the past two weeks alone.
We noticed her getting antsy when placed in an incline position. She'd strain every last abdominal muscle to bend herself forward. It was then we got the idea to try placing her in an exercise saucer. She took to it right away. Although she doesn't quite have enough strength to balance her torso, she appears quite content to stand supported in an upright position.
Five months in the making, this milestone feels like a major breakthrough and a Win for the little lady.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
"What Sarah Said": a lo-fi, live action web comic (episode 6, Date Fail)
*** Click image to enlarge. ***
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