End of an era . . .

So after my hearty paean (a word forever seared into my brain because I missed it on the GRE) to the wonders of Roble Pool, I am a bit sad to learn that the whole complex is shutting down. Out with the pool, out with the gym, out with the Karate classes, and in with the dancing and the drama. Oh, the drama. Yes, it looks like Stanford is going all Billy Elliot on Roble. As of August, I hear, we'll all have to bow to the swim gods at Avery. Guess I'd better start practicing my flip turns and get on that ab-roller.

Practice this morning was fine. I still swim like a head of lettuce losing its leaves, and this morning it was even worse. We did lots of kicking and hip and arm movement drills; Coach Tom says that if it feels awkward, it's a good sign. Awkward is perhaps a word that is too kind; anyhow, maybe some improvement will be happening over the next couple of weeks.

Biking this morning was tough. Brian is a speed demon - I don't know how fast he was going on foothill. I was in the 26-27 mph range a few times, and was still dropping behind. These are speeds I would normally save for special occasions. I guess the point is to get faster though, and that won't happen if I'm always cruising along without pushing a bit. I'm tending to do better on the hills than on the flats, which is a bit surprising because I have never thought of myself as much of a climber.

Two whole people told me this morning that they've actually read what I have written here. This is very exciting. I thought I was just writing to loosen up the writing joints, slapping the sentences down so that when it comes time to write something important (aka thesis later this year) I'll be all loose and limber and won't spend hours staring the the computer screen and agonizing over every single sentence. I was hoping that perhaps all of that journaling practice we did in eighth grade English class might turn out to be helpful someday. We'll see. Anyhow, thanks for stopping by. Why not stop by here next?