Jellyfish legs.

This morning, my future came to visit me.  In the sense of what it may feel to move like a turtle.  Slow and steady without any hurry.  Not that I could have if I wanted to.  My legs felt like two pieces of pulverized ham in a bag hastily sewn on but with about 100 times more nerve endings.  Such is the pain the day after running a hilly half marathon through the rainy city of Seattle in November.  What are 20,000 numbskulls(literally) thinking even going out in that weather nonetheless spending hours in it?  Fitness?  Challenge?  Glory?  I'm going to go with the last one.  The sense of accomplishment did feel really good.  I beat my planned time of a 8 min/mile pace by 4 minutes.  1 hour 39 minutes.  I think starting late (I hate you ferry and city traffic) gave me that mental edge because I felt like Flash racing, first, past the walkers then the slow runners and even up to the steadies.  Hills be damned!  I felt unstoppable.  As I sit here in my crippled state, basking in my glory.  I plan for the next conquest.  Another wintry run?  I think so.

Body Glide, oh Body Glide,
how I treasure your presence.
Water resistant and easy to apply,
without your appearance,
I'd surely have cried.

Orchestral Indie Art

This being the inaugural post it's about one of my favorite things.  Music.  I'm talking all types.  Even country occasionally.  Everybody loves a good story but not all appreciate a twang or drawl.
The past weekend I went to a couple of shows.  Saturday was Hey Marseilles with my buddy Ray.  This band was super energetic last year at the Fremont Dive so, while purchasing the tickets I thought to myself, "I better get four because everyone's going to want to go to this show."  Well I learned that none of my friends are as obsessed with them as I.  Nonetheless the opening acts were entertaining and acoustic, keeping to the theme.  Hey Marseilles showed off their new songs and got the crowd riled up with their old stuff.

Fellow revelers enjoying Neptune's underwater feel. 12Nov11

Normally I can say I've got Irish luck, which isn't lucky at all, but I won a couple of free tickets to We Were Promised Jetpacks.  All I had to do was send an e-mail.  Can't say I've never won anything now.  My friend bailed so it was a solo show for me.  Which I don't mind.  It gave me a chance to formulate my thoughts on the first band, Bear Hands.

Driving bass and drum lines/Celestial harmonies rising/Through the offbeats/A slide into the middle/Between genres/A longing voice cuts/Through undulating rhythms/Pausing/For guitar echoes

-Got me moving

We Were Promised Jetpacks had the crowd jumping and swaying.  Usually the lead guitarist is not the singer but Adam was piecing together a wide arrangement of chords in quick time all while singing just like the album.  Impressive.  If you're feeling like youth is slipping go see these guys and you may forget your age.  Just make sure to toss a few back during.  C'mon they're Scottish.  Have a single-malt.