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An interesting read in the tradition of Alice in Wonderland / The Wizard of Oz / The Matrix.  An average Scottish man somehow “slips through the cracks” of the London he knows and discovers another, darker, more sinister “London Below” when he saves the life of an injured girl he finds lying on a sidewalk.  Although the story, overall, is quite dark, Gaiman manages to interject a far amount of his trademark dry British wit throughout.  The characters are real and interesting, and the writing itself (of course) is brilliant.  A tad predictable, but still entertaining.  There’s enough going on in the book theme- & character-wise that you could probably delve into it & come up with some pretty deep conclusions if you wanted, but it’s just as easy to simply read straight through for fun.  Because there are a lot of plays on words that have to do with London geography & especially the London Underground, I have a hunch that it would probably be that much more entertaining for someone who knows London well.

Not a bad read, for a book I picked up randomly in the book store because it had a cool-looking cover. The story is about a historian (Claire Donovan) writing her doctoral thesis on the 1618 Spanish Conspiracy against Venice, which has something to do with a letter written by a Venetian courtesan named Alessandra Rossetti. The book alternates back and forth between Alessandra’s story in the 17th century Venice & Claire’s in 20th century Venice working on her thesis (while babysitting an irritating 14 year old named Gwen, chasing exotic Italian & British men, & generally getting involved in any number of hijinx). I think I understood some of the historical parts a little more than I would otherwise because I’d just recently watched “Dangerous Beauty” [a movie whose plot also revolves around a Venetian courtesan named Veronica Franco, who is mentioned in the book]. The historical storyline was by far the most interesting part; I could’ve done without most of the (utterly predictable & clichéd) romantic comedy in which stereotypical-mousy-academic Claire spends most of her time being awkward around men & trying to keep stereotypical-angst ridden Gwen out of stereotypical teenage trouble. In the end, we find that Claire & Gwen had a lot to learn from each other after all (awwwww…), & Alessandra was, y’know, a courtesan who, y’know, ends up falling in love with someone forbidden (awwww…). Not bad. Not great. An okay plane / beach read.

In case you missed it, the CA Supreme Court overturned the ban on gay marriage last Thursday, 5/15/08. Yay for civil rights!

Slate brings up some interesting points about the potential fallout of the decision. Firstly, they point out the fact that although there are conservatives out there who would love to use the case to turn the presidential election into a referendum on gay marriage, it’s unlikely that this would be a successful strategy given the percentage of Americans (even republicans) who now approve of either gay marriage or some form of same sex civil union. No; in order to use the CA case to strike fear into hearts of more traditional Americans, social conservatives must (to quote Slate) “push the debate into kinkier territory.”

The article goes on to discuss how the likely tactic involves pointing out how loosening the traditional definition of marriage to include same-sex couples places it on a slippery slope that could eventually lead to including polygamy and incest under the legal definition of marriage as well. And they’d be right. The predictable next move for social liberals, then, would be, “Yes, and?”

My favorite excerpts:

“It’s not true that there’s been any cultural rush toward these practices. That was always hogwash, since heterosexuality, jealousy, and aversion to immediate-family incest are broadly grounded in human biology. What’s true is that our categorical bans on polygamy and incest, like our bans on homosexuality, are losing their justification.

“Two trends are driving this erosion. One is the rise of privacy as a cultural, political, and legal principle. Societies are becoming less able and less willing to forcibly restrict sexual choices. Do what you want, as long as you’re not hurting anybody. No harm, no foul. Second, the assumed harm of taboo sex practices is being questioned and subjected to scrutiny. And the evidence is looking pretty weak.”

You didn’t know that pirates invented democracy, did you?  Hehe.

6 x 400 repeats.  What can you say about speed work?  It totally sucks while you’re doing it, and as soon as it’s over you feel like you’ve barely worked at all.  Not really looking forward to the days when I have to do 9 or 10 of these.

I love bad-for-me food. A lot. Butter, cheese, beer, pie — I could go on and on. I like a lot of good-for-me things too, but I have a much harder time actively choosing to eat them on a regular basis, especially when something yummy (and worse for me) is readily available. When I am actively training for a race, though, I actually start to crave healthy things. For example, lunch lately has been mostly plain, fat-free yogurt and fruit, and that’s all I want. Also, recently, when I get home for an evening run, I can’t wait to have a big, tangy salad with spinach and baby greens. Lately, my favorite is baby spinach, baby greens, tomatoes, feta cheese, black olives, and oil & vinegar. YUM!

Also, I’ve discovered that this particular salad seems to go really well with a 2004 Dahlia Chardonnay that I picked up at the grocery store like a year ago based on absolutely nothing & finally decided I better drink. But, WOW, so good! (And not too terribly bad for me…)

Mmmm baby!

3.5 miles. Lately everything is a tempo run. It’s pretty much like I have one comfortable starting speed, which happens to be a bit fast. For me, anyway. I think that’s kind of the idea, though, because right now I can pretty much hold that speed for a solid 3 miles before it gets harder; today I had to fight through the last .5 a bit. Hopefully I’ll be able to work up to 13 this way.

Let me know when this scenario starts sounding strangely (and I do mean strangely) familiar.

The Kentucky Derby is, of course, the most famous race in Thoroughbred racing. While it’s not off-limits to fillies (female horses), the twenty-horse field almost always consists of all colts (male horses). Fillies are more likely to be entered in the Kentucky Oaks (which IS only for fillies) the day before the Derby.

As trainers began pointing their horses toward the Derby this year, a handful of three-year-old colts began to distinguish themselves (including a tall bay called Big Brown), and racing folk started to speculate who would actually throw their hats into the ring. Then, amidst all the talk about the boys, a filly began making headlines at tracks around the country. Initially entered in the Kentucky Oaks, Eight Belle’s trainer soon scratched her out of the all-girl race in order to give her a chance to run with the boys in the Derby a day later.

The filly quickly gained a charismatic following of racing fans who couldn’t wait to see her make history by defeating the favorite, Big Brown. On Derby day, Big Brown and Eight Belles broke from the rest of the pack on the back stretch and battled it out; Big Brown won by 4 3/4 lengths, with Eight Belles making a spectacular showing and easily thrashing the rest of the boys.

Still haven’t spotted any parallels to current events? Maybe this will help:

“I hope that everybody will go to the Derby on Saturday and place just a little money on the filly for me,” Sen. Clinton told supporters in Jeffersonville, Ind., ABC News reports. “I won’t be able to be there this year - my daughter is going to be there and so she has strict instructions to bet on Eight Belles.”

Here’s the really unfortunate part, though. As Eight Belles was galloping out after the race, the filly collapsed and went down on her front legs. Bones in both front ankles had snapped and torn through the skin, and she was euthanized on the spot (at more or less the same moment that Big Brown was being led to the winner’s circle).

Does anyone else feel like you can’t make this shit up?

And yes, that’s running in clouds, not running on clouds. I have that lovely Bay Area fog to thank for a very damp, very chilly 5 mile “long” run today. It was not so much with the fun times.

(I know that 5 doesn’t actually qualify as “long,” but Sundays have been designated for that purpose, and I’ll be working up one additional mile per week, so “long” runs will become *actually* long soon enough.)

And something is wrong with the tendons on the inside of my left ankle. They’ve been tender for as long as I can remember (ie, since maybe the 7th grade), but after today they’re giving me particular ouchies. Methinks ice & IB is in order.

3 mile “recovery” run. Recovery runs are supposed to be pretty slow (ie, about 10 minutes per mile or so) and more of a chance to stretch & loosen muscles after harder runs. Theoretically these are supposed to be easier than other workouts, but I find that this is rarely the case, mainly because I have a hard time keeping such a slow pace (that not-so-patient thing again). It also puts more strain on the tendons in my ankles, for some reason. Today I ran a 31-minute 3 mile recovery run, and I swear it was the hardest run of the week. Weird.