Legislature announces plan to extend full marriage benefits to domestic partnerships

Olympia – In front of a crowd of more than 30 legislators, supporters and families of same sex couples Wednesday afternoon, state Sen. Ed Murray (D-Seattle) announced the introduction of Senate and House bills that would expand full state marriage rights to domestic partners, but would stop short of calling the relationships marriages in the eyes of the state.

The House bill has 57 sponsors out of 98 total Representatives, including two Republicans, Maureen Walsh (R-College Place) and Norm Johnson (R-Yakima), and the Senate offering has 20 sponsors from the body’s 49 members.

No Republican Senators, however, found the cause worthy of sponsorship.

The pair of bills would add over 300 rights and obligations for domestic partnerships ranging from survivor and pension benefits to business license transfers, which Rep. Jamie Pederson (D-Seattle), the chief sponsor of the House bill, said would “make sure our families are treated exactly the same.”

Still, even if the state legislation passes, certain same sex couples will lack some Federal benefits until President Obama makes good on his promise to repeal the Defense of Marriage Act.

Besides the usual measure of equality and long-time-coming, the legislators also took time today to frame the issue in terms of the sour economy.

“Families across this nation feel more and more insecure. If there was at theme for this session,” Murray said, “it would be family economic security.”

Extending crucial benefits to families of same-sex couples, the implication suggests, is even more important now than it was before. He said now is the time that there needs to be a conversation about the concrete ways that families of same sex couples are harmed because they lack the same benefits as heterosexual couples.

To help hammer home the need for domestic partnership benefit rights, four same-sex couples, half of them with young children in tow, spoke about their feelings of going through everyday life not only with the hardships that come from improper benefits, but the stigma that their families, especially their children, have from being excluded.

It was a regular all-American display, with one of the couples’ nine year old daughter doing her best Piper Palin turn, struggling to hold onto her baby sister as she stood beside her mother at the podium.

Another couple, both of whom hold PhDs from the University of Washington, informed the reporters that their elementary school aged daughter was “just coming to terms with the fact that our family doesn’t have the same recognition and rights that her friends’ families do, and it is confusing to her.”

Then there was the Tacoma police officer who grew emotional while reminding those gathered that she faces the same dangers on the streets each day as her straight co-workers, yet she is saddled with the additional stress of knowing that if anything happened to her, only now, with the help of this bill, would her partner receive the full spousal benefits she deserved.

Those blatant displays of humanity aside, Murray commented that one of the aspects most worthy of celebration with the announcement of these bills was the relative lack of fanfare from the other side.

“I would say the most remarkable thing about this bill is that it is unremarkable,” Murray mentioned, explaining that many of the fiercely fought battles that had been fought in the last few decades were inconspicuously absent from today’s atmosphere, even resulting in the aforementioned Republican sponsors of the House bill.

“Instead of culture wars,” Murray said, “we see a legislature that is mostly on board.”

But if the atmosphere is so good, and domestic partnerships are such a no-brainer these days, why not just go all in and join the ranks of Massachusetts and Connecticut, the two states who currently recognize gay marriage?

The lawmakers answered this question in part by passing the buck to a public that they said, outside of the greater Seattle area, was still coming to terms with gay rights.

“We are involved in a conversation with the people of this state,” Murray said. “It is still new to a lot of people in this state.”

Plus, there will be the matter of initiative battles like the recent Proposition 8 that rocked the civil rights world in California this past year.

“On a personal level, it is kind of amazing what the opposition is willing to do,” Murray said, implying that the supporters of gay marriage intend to swing with a knockout blow when they finally push for full equality. “We know that there will be an initiative at some point. We are preparing ourselves for that battle…We plan to win. We don’t plan to win and then lose.”

Despite this ongoing conversation, Rep. Jim Moeller (D-Vancouver) will be introducing a bill in the House this session, H.B. 1745, that would bring full civil marriage rights to same sex couples in common with their fellow heterosexual citizens.

“There is nothing more personal than the decision between two human beings who make the decision to be committed to one another,” Moeller said and compared the issue to private entities that know that “discrimination is no way to run a business. What we know is what we have always known for a long time, that separate is not equal.”

That bill has 40 sponsors already, including Republican Walsh, yet it won’t be considered in committee.

All part of the process, co-sponsor Rep. Marko Liias (D-Mukilteo) assured me later Wednesday afternoon.

“That’s where the conversation is centered right now,” Liias said, echoing Murray’s sentiment from earlier in the day. “Not everyone who needs to be part of the process is ready to go there right now. There isn’t quite the consensus we need.”

Liias also gave some recommendations for gay marriage’s staunch advocates.

“Get out there and start doing the community organization,” he advised, “and get folks to start writing in from all over the state. Those folks need to start speaking to their friends and neighbors.”

Even if the legislature stops short by simply adding domestic partnership benefits, Sen. Murray predicted today that it won’t be long.

“It will take some years,” he said, “but it will not take the 29 years that the civil rights bill took. It is a multi-year effort, but not a multi-decade effort.”

Cross-posted on HA Seattle

Mile Time Trial, Part 2

Time Trial #2

After an illness kept me sidetracked last week, I came back with another mile time trial today in my bi-monthly journey toward breaking 5:00 for the first time since the spring of 2007.

Despite a stale and lingering hangover caused by a booze-soaked tribute to Rod Blagojevic last night (complete with a lot of bourbon and a couple pre-game in-shower beer chugs, :19 and :21, respectively) I drove the four miles out to West Olympia's Capital High School, the nearest all-weather track to my house, and incidentally the site of my 400m PR, where I opened up the JV 4x4 team with a 52.8 in a fit of rage-induced speed from having been pulled onto the all-distance relay team at the last second.

The reason for the all-weather track is that I wanted to test out my newest accessory, a pair of Adistar MDs that came in the mail from my sponsor, Solomon Industries, a week or so ago.

After a mile and a half of warm-up on the trails around the school (where I also ran a xc invite in high school, but can't remember what place I came in, all I remember is that it was my one and only career loss to Olympia High School's Jesse Stevick) I laced up the spikes, stretched out my legs, focusing on my particularly tender left side, and stepped up to the mile line.

The spikes gave me some undue confidence as I hit the 100m mark in :17-high, but the windy back stretch leveled me out, bringing me through the 200m mark in a pre-planned :39, which I rounded into a 1:18.06. Lap 2 still felt pretty smooth, with a 1:19.78 giving me 2:38 800m, but instead of that split giving me hope that I might break 5:20, the coming dread in my chest only allowed me to instead grow confidence in my chances at breaking 5:30.

Lap 3 started out hard, and got harder as evidenced by the beginning of a series of grunts that, by the middle of the bell lap, had grown in frequency to the point that they were coming with damn near every step.

But I tried to stay focused on the fact that each step would bring me a little further beyond the halfway point, and I fortunately came through in 1:23.82 (no 90 second scares like last time) before closing in 1:22:23 on the strengh of a :38 second final 200m, followed by a lot of Blagovian cursing and a slight desire to collapse, which I fortunately overcame.

Final Time: 5:23.89 for the full mile.

But that last lap, let me tell you, was a bitch. Fuckin' shit.


The first thirty seconds are easy to take off, the next thirty not so much.

See you next time,
BTB

So much for a dovetail

Olympia, WA - Greetings from Jake's on 4th. I dropped in here just after 1 AM because I thought it would be fitting to post my article on the state legislature's attempt to provide marriage benefits to domestic partnership's from the town's foremost gay bar.

What a shit show.

This is the fourth time now that I have been in here, and it has been a mixed bag. With one exception, I've not been here before 1 o clock, and three of the nights have been on Wednesdays, tonight included.

But never before have I seen this combination of people singing Smashing Pumpkins, chubby chicks grabbing each other's boobs, and weird short guys hanging out with strikingly attractive drunk girls who may or may not be low-rent prostitutes.

For the record, I did finish the article here, so the night was not in vain.

Alas, tomorrow I have an article to write about energy policy, and I imagine at least one bourbon on the rocks once I get home just to come down from this weird scene.

I'll close you with that idea, while they close it down here with some Salt N Pepa.

Its none of your business.

Fuck, I wish it was none of mine. They're terrible. I'm out.

Vive la France

Olympia, WA -

Here I am in a booth at The Brotherhood, a few too many drinks deep on a night where a mild depression has set in at the notion that I have decided to consider employment in such hideous places as Southern California and the Mid-Atlantic.

Why, God? Why?

But it's not just that. Romanteek, one of Olympia's allegedly premier bands, is set to take the stage any minute now, and I have been meaning to hear them ever since I was informed, just over a month ago, that their front man was one and the same as the lovely and talented (both vocally and fashionably) Greta Jane, whose jazz quartet I frequented throughout the fall on Monday nights at The Royal Lounge.

But in the meantime I have been studying up on the Washington state budget cuts in preparation for some face time with the leadership tomorrow, and drinking far more hot toddies than is in my best interest, especially given the relative dearth of my supper tonight.

Alas, some moments are give to you, not you to them.

...

Late last week I meant to post on the relative wackiness of the Olympia streets these days. Oly, like no other city I have experienced, goes in extreme phases of craziness, and last week topped the charts, or at least those charts that have recorded the days since my arrival in these backwaters late last summer.

I think that some of the explanation is due to the fact that clusters of teenagers run away from home for a few days until the money runs out and the weather turns cold, but this last week it was as if the crazy bus made a stop on the corner of Capitol Way and 4th Ave. and told its passengers to get out for a stretch and a cup of coffee, then sped off never to be seen again.

Good luck to the bus driver, bad luck to those of us who spent more than a passing amount of time in the coffee shops and on the sidewalks of downtown. Christ.

But now with the weather turning cold again, the undesirables have found their way back to the warm confines of their parents' houses, not matter how undoubtedly shitty they may be. But, fuck, its cold out here tonight, and anywhere has got to be better than the streets.

...

Lastly, I'd like to briefly touch on the NBA. The old Seattle Sonics are on a bit of a hot streak, which is, ironically, making me miss the guys. How hot would it have been to see a young and spunky group of Green & Gold running off a win streak in the more than palatable Key Arena?

Real hot.

But mostly, I wanted to shed a tear for the trading away of Johan Petro, which happened nearly a month ago. My favorite Sonic of the last two years is now a Nugget, riding pine under the stressful watch of George Karl.

I wish you well, Johan, and may you enjoy a round or three of the playoffs this year.

Three cheers for France, and all its wonderful citzens!

Soul Love

Out of honesty to my soul, and to pay respect to the amount of times I have listened to this song today, here you go:

Topics

Olympia, WA -

Ever since the conclusion of the New Hampshire Primary, I have felt less and less of an urge to write about politics from a commentary standpoint. Part of the reason I started this blog last month was to get myself back into the flow, which is the same reason I started the Quabbin blog once upon a little over time two (two!) years ago.

But I was struck today when I updated the online newspapers to find that Caroline Kennedy had withdrawn her name from consideration for Hillary Clinton's now vacant U.S. Senate seat.

In the name of full disclosure I rooted against Ms. Kennedy for the same reason that I wildly opposed the presidential candidacies of George W. Bush and Hillary Clinton herself, because of my distinctly American despising of family dynasties. When the Senate is so far from my reach, I sure as hell don't want someone gaining entry just because his or her father/husband/brother had earned it, &tc.

Whether you believe the Times (she quit because uncle Teddy fell ill) or the Post (she found out the seat was going to someone else), I still call bullshit. We've known for a while now that Teddy, for all the good he has done, needs to retire and spend his final days leisurely chilling out in Hyannisport, and quitting because you might lose it a total cop out.

It is a fitting end to the quasi-candidacy of an entitled would-be pol. Besides, I can speak from experience because I never went to the fourth Stadium High School basketball tryout my freshman year because I knew that I was either going to be one of the last guys to get cut, or one of the last guys to make the team. In either case, I had no future as a baller. But in either case, I was 15 years old. Caroline is, ironically, 51.

But shit, part of the problem is that the man who seemed to be her main competition, NY AG Andrew Cuomo, suffers from the same identity crisis. Whatever, fuck New York state.

...

Oh yeah, and I am going to start contributing to another blog starting, I dunno, Friday. Something like that. While there, I will be covering the legislative session and calling out politicians, just like I used to, again, at the old Quabbin blog. So today is basically a return to form, but in a shittier location.

It all reminds me of this:

Big Time

Seattle, WA -

Thanks to a perfectly planned 5:30 PM departure from foggy Olympia, I was able to make it up Seattle with only minimal traffic congestion, which gives me the chance to do a quick beer review from the Big Time Brewpub in the U-District.

Big Time is one of my favorites in Seattle, and someplace I invariably find myself when I am near the UW with some time to kill.

Tonight I had two firsts with the Perspective IPA on cask, and a sample of The Maine Thing East Coast Pale Ale.

It was the first time I had ever seen a beer classified as an "East Coast Pale", and true to its name it felt like I was back in New Hampshire. The bartender wasn't certain of the hops origin, but it was clear they weren't Cascade or Chinook, though at the same time they weren't some shitty British kind, either. Mildly hoppy, not too bitter or bland. I always consider Pale Ales sort of a bastardized version of an IPA - why go for the silver when you can get the gold? But if hops bite you too hard, or if you are just looking to mix it up, I give this one a strong recommendation if only because when else do you see an East Coast Pale Ale?

One of the great things about Big Time, besides their weathered wood floors and walls full of old school beer memorabilia, is the fact that they offer a number of IPAs. Still, I had never seen the Perspective on tap, and was thrilled to have the chance to try it on cask. Maybe that tainted my introduction, but at a glance I can confidently say it is their best. Smooth, good scent, solidly bitter with a hit of florality. Shit, if I wasn't off to Drinking Liberally in five minutes (or unemployed), I'd stay for a few more.

Once again, well done, Big Time.

inOguration

Olympia, WA -

I watched the inauguration from the Olympia Film Society's free showing at the Capitol Theater this morning, shoved in with fidgety kids, old people and mild hippies, most of who jeered at every sight of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney.

For conservatives, it was the belly of the beast, right on down to the near unanimous laughter at Rick Warren's invocation, particularly his faux-lful pronunciation of Ma-LI-a and Sa-SHA. Lord knows, hallowed be his name, that the fat man was over the top.

Also, someone should've reminded Pastor Warren that Barack Obama was not actually an immigrant. And I'm sure a certain segment of the American population couldn't have been happy about this line from Warren.

Help us, o God, to remember that we are Americans united not by race or religion or blood, but by our commitment to freedom and justice for all.

For good measure, Warren even tossed in some eschatology to fit in with Obama's campaign message of hope.

And may we never forget that one day all nations and all people will stand accountable before you.

But it wasn't just the preacher who gave me pause. I was taken aback by Sen. Diane Feinstein's violence plagued words, and the contrast between the man of the hour's, frankly, cocky facial expression and the oath flub (or was that your fault, Justice Roberts).

Yet the defining picture of today's events were the people. Over a million jammed in from the capitol steps all the way to the Washington monument filled with chanting and tear-tracked faces, and even the fire hazard aisles of our own little movie theater, where an overflow crowd craned their necks from the concession stand just to catch a glimpse of what they knew was real history. The kind you wake up at 6:30AM for even after the luster of presidential politics had worn of months ago.

The final days of the Bush administration here along Budd Bay have been mired in a thick fog, a translucent darkness that you could see creeping up and down Capitol Way. When I walked out of the theater immediately upon President Obama's swearing-in around 9:05 in the morning, the fog was still lingering no doubt, but the sky was bright.

End of an Error

Olympia, WA -

5:09 PM
The Fish Bowl has Hodgson's IPA on cask again for the first time in ages, and twelve ounces in I have to admit I'm not as happy about it as I thought I would be. The cask brings out more sweetness than I want, and far fewer hops.

I'm a man of simple needs, but bitter hops is one of them. Damn you, cask o' Hodgsons.

But the real question, as far as hops go, comes down to whether or not I'll have the balls to turn down the waitress when she comes by and, seeing my nearly empty glass, asks me if I'd like another. Lord knows I should hit pause right now and try to get a 25-minute run in before the night gets ugly.
---
5:25 PM

I failed. If it had been any one besides the Pittsburgh Steelers waitress in a lovely layered skirt I might have had the strength, but tonight she's a beauty and, like she said, "you might as well."

"Fuck it," I replied.

That combination of phrases could turn out to be the death of me.
----
5:31 PM

Otherwise today has been somewhat of an epic day, as far as this week is concerned.

Back on Sunday night, my abs, sides and lower back became sore, and only increased in intensity as the week went on. I first thought it was just been fallout from Sunday afternoon's clam digging session, but as the intensity increased and drifted away from my stomach and into my back, I became worried that the logical answer pointed either to liver damage or cancer.

Adding insult to injury, I spent the entirety of Monday night in an insomniacal stupor, existing in a state of pure consciousness from noon Monday all the way through until 1 PM on Tuesday, lacking the wherewithal to fall asleep, though certainly not the desire.

I took a three and a half hour nap on Tuesday afternoon in order to avoid full zombie status before heading down to Centralia for an amazing bluegrass show with a band called Greensky, followed by an ill-advised stop along 4th Avenue once I returned to Olympia.

By late Wednesday night, when the internal soreness was at its peak, I was legitimately worried about these things and had even begun announcing my disease worries to whomever would listen.

Luckily I awoke Thursday morning to find the soreness had receded.

By Friday the soreness was completely gone, giving me the base of ecstasy that I had touched upon earlier, add a bit of good news on the job front, as well as an unanticipated gift in the mail from Solley, a pair of middle distance spikes that I promise to wear in as many beer miles and mile time trials as possible going forward, sprinkle in the goodwill that my beard has received around the coffee shops and hippie bars these last two weeks, and next thing you know I'll be back to sleeping twelve hours a day in no time.

Cheers to that.

Changing the Subject

Olympia, WA -

I have been meaning to write on any number of subjects besides my shitty, slow runs lately, but a lack of internet at home, and probably a little bit of fear, has kept me from it.

Shame on me, but look to the future, my friends, and wait.

Another run

Olympia, WA -

After four days off the wagon, I finally went for a run this morning right after I rolled off the couch at 12:30. I guess that's not morning, but coming on the heels of a night where I didn't even fall asleep until 12:30PM, I was willing to count it.

The loop was as usual, down to Eastbay Drive, around past the Farmer's Market, over to Capitol Lake, up the trails to the campus, down Capital Way, over to 4th Ave and back up Oly Street to Puget Street and back home.

This time, though, my pace was everywhere. Having just woken up, I creakily started off at 8 minute pace, including the downhill portion of SF Ave, before heating up once I hit downtown, rolling at nearly 7 flat through the streets and the campus until I hit the wall at East Bay.

Three blocks up Oly and I was ready to quit until I passed a woman in a black VW. She was applying lipstick with the aid of her rearview mirror to the sound of Jay-Z in a car that had seen more miles and cosmetic damage than even she. It was then that I knew I couldn't walk. So I pushed on, 8:40 pace and all, back to the house, hunched over on the back porch, wiped sweat onto my t-shirt, unlaced my shoes, drank some water and hit the showers with a banana and the remainder of last night's guava kombucha.

God, I remember the days when I only felt like that on every fifth twenty miler.

Old age, it is no joke. It is the truth.

Beers drunk so far
Hodgson's IPA
Fish Old Woody
PBR

First Mile

Olympia, WA -

Ever impatient, I decided on a whim this afternoon to set up a baseline for my attempt to once again break five minutes in the mile, and mark how long it takes me to do it.

Three blocks into an afternoon run that was prompted by equal parts ennui and ambition, I turned around to grab my watch and head over to Reeves Middle School for a this-is-how-far-I've-come time trial that I can look back on in the spring and laugh at, and possibly feel a sliver of pride.

I arrived at the track after a mile plus warm up, did a few strides and attempted to psyche myself up for my first race-like behavior in two months, and my first one miler since 2007.

Mostly, I just wanted to be able to say that I didn't give up at 800m and start jogging the rest of the way.

Turns out, that was easier said than done.

I honestly had no basis for my current race fitness, but estimated (and told at least a dozen people in an e-mail) that I could run a 5:40 while hoping I could surprise myself with a 5:34 and worrying that I wouldn't even be able to break six.

The plan of attack, after a couple minutes of internal debate between busting out gung-ho style with an :80 or pushing for even-to-negative with an :85, was to go for the :85, which I almost did.

After an opening :40, I came through in :83 for the first quarter, and by the 500m mark I knew I had no prayer at a 5:40. It was then that, not only did running sub-6 pace become really fucking hard, but I also saw a crisp dollar bill in lane three and I developed the urge to stop and pick it up.

Lap two was an :88.

Lap three, no surprise, was a :92. I was running 6:10 pace and feeling that old third lap feeling, which is a mixture of helplessness, dread, frustration and despair. I knew I could close with at least a 20 for my last hundred, but what would precede that?

I rolled through my penultimate 200m in :45, all but assuring me a sub-6 performance, but I would need to drop it down to 5 flat pace to break 5:50, which, this late into the race, was nothing but icing.

Turns out I pushed through that grueling final half lap in :40, good enough for a 5:51.88.

Ladies and gentlemen, a baseline.

Guarantee I break 5:40 next week. Guar-an-fucking-tee.

BTB


Beers drunk so far
Leavenworth Hodgon's IPA
Fish Tale Old Woody (on cask)

Blogging

Olympia, WA -

Dare I say it? The B-word? Well, I guess it beats the C-word.

Keeping up with the new blog has been more difficult than I anticipated. Not having internet at home has certainly added to the roadblock, but coming off of eleven months of five posts a day, even if they were straight talk, and a false memory of a motormouth back at 3Q, the stagnation of BTB.com has been a bit perplexing for me.

The lack of political movement, Lord knows I have zero desire to dish the pre-inauguration scuttlebutt, plays a role, I'm sure, but I've also been stonewalled by normal communication.

An article in Slate from yesterday regarding the whereabouts of those Democrats for McCain reminded me of how fortunate pro reporters are for having the ability to follow up on stories from months back, and the authority to seek various movers-and-shakers for quotes.

But it also made me wonder if there were any Dems for J-Mac who renounced their decision after the Palin choice, or at least after the Kouric interview. I mean, seriously. I think if I ever gain some sort of notoriety, I will do just that - endorse the candidate I oppose, and then renounce said endorsement upon their selection of a running mate. Of course I would only do this if my "preferred" candidate was Milquetoast, but that still doesn't change the fact that I think it is a brilliant idea. Takers?

It also added to my recent Proustian turn in remembrance of things past. Running, blogging, cooking, loving, growing a beard, spending time with friends from college. None of these have been part of my life in the last year, and why not?

2009 is proving a fertile breeding ground for finding the old things that worked, and trying to shape them with respect to the future, and it was an eagle that clinched it. Two of them, actually.

Driving home from Tacoma today, where shit was ghetto as fuck as I sat in the Blackwater coffee shop and moseyed up to the TSD building to seek answers for my potentially temporary career as a substitute teacher, I saw two bald eagles perched on nearly consecutive trees overlooking the Nisqually Delta immediately adjacent to Interstate 5, whose southbound lanes were expected to be ten feet below the Chehalis River some thirty miles south.

The flooded out combination of shallow water fish and varmints running for cover must be a veritable goldmine for eagles, and I see why. Never having seen the damage firsthand, I have always romanticized floods, the beauty of water on land and swollen chocolate milk rivers conjure up visions of bounty and nature's dominance, even as they are nothing but farm killers and land rapists whose ears who no safe word.

Still I welcome the sight.

Even downtown Olympia wasn't safe. News reports stated that the city was worried about the tenability of Capitol Lake, a fact I was not aware of when I ran today, choosing to go backwards from my normal route by running up Capital Way and down the trails instead of the usual vice versa, where I found sand bags and man-made buffers everywhere as the water lapped at the cement borders that I run along in place of the trail. Usually these borders sit between three and eight feet above the water line, but today I worried about salt water on my shoes.

Alas, there was no damage, and I merely treated the buffers as hurdles, awkwardly leaping over the black tarp coverings en route back to the elevated safety of the Eastside.

Then, after a dinner of bison fettuccine and a decidedly shitty, if cheap, Barefoot Zinfandel, I spend 45 minutes reading The Education of Little Tree to a soundtrack of bluegrass on KAOS, before folding some laundry and heading into town to get some internet and hear the jovial tin of other people talking, even if they aren't talking to me.

Its the little things.

But for now, as I forgo any proofreading of this post and regret my lack of cover letter writing for the night, I feel it is time to close up shop and live like I used to even before I became the guy constantly at the bar with his computer. Can I even remember that life?

If the beard, the footsteps and the recipes can come back after a few repetitions, I guess I am willing to believe anything.

Ahoy,
BTB



Beers drunk so far tonight
Rogue Santa's Private Reserve
Leavenworth Hodgson's IPA

Starting, failing

Olympia, WA -

I was able to act on my renewed commitment to fitness today, taking advantage of the small but steady raindrops and mild temperature (relative to the last few weeks) to cruise through a shorts clad thirty minute run in Priest Point Park.

Judging from a little bit of gmap pedometer magic, I estimated my pace to be close to 7:15, which is a good twenty seconds faster than I thought I would be doing. Best of all, though, I ran out for 15:00 before turning on a dime to see how closely I could hit even splits on the way back home, where I hit the watch at 30:00, even splits for two plus miles over mixed terrain. Not bad.

The intensity of the rain has only increased since this afternoon, when I ran on a reduced sleep schedule caused by a late, booze-soaked Olympia bar night and an early morning chauffeur trip to the Sea-Tac Airport to see Solley off to Jersey.

In spite of the 4 and a half hours of sleep I've felt pretty good all day, maybe because I bucked up and ran after going to the grocery store at 1 o'clock.


Tonight it just never came. Shit, I miss the Moan and Dove.