Setting New Deadlines

Just received this, "he" being Joe Bernt, one of the members of my thesis committee.

My guess is he will approve the coding sheet, but may ask you to code for one or two more variables. The sampling method should be fine, though, so you can at least start gathering the articles/covers that you will be analyzing. That should keep you busy for a few weeks, anyway.

The long slog will be coming to an end pretty soon. A year after I scrapped my original thesis (a quantitative analysis of advertising in b2b/trade publications), I finally feel like my thesis will be done before the end of autumn. I've already written the intro, literature/research review, theoretical sections (I managed to make mention of punk rock in a Jon Savage reference. WTF? This is a thesis on organic agriculture?!), and just about everything else. Everything's been plugged into the thesis template provided by OU. My name's even on the damn cover.

All that's waiting is actual data. Which surprisingly, the accumulation and analysis of will probably be the easiest task. I'll have to read about 125 issues of farming magazines, pick out the articles on organic/sustainable agriculture, do a textual analysis of 'em, and attempt to slot them into a set of flexible categories according to any apparent themes. I'm looking specifically at the content to see whether coverage of organic agricultural practices in farming magazines plies a line in support of corporate hegemony (evidenced by coverage largely negative in portrayal, and in support of conventional ag.), countercultural themes (organic ag. is a practice of the unwashed longhairs), or best profit practices (Whole Foods: Where you can be suckered into spending $3.99 for a pound of apples.)

Just in case it's not clear, I'm half-joking with the descriptions of these categories. I've spent so much time with this stuff that I feel like I know nothing else. I'm not even entirely sure that these themes will exist in actual coverage – I've done cursory analyses, one of which was a research paper last year for class, but I haven't gotten deep into the material that I'll be analyzing, so I'm really excited as to what I'll find.

6K

I rode 6,000 training miles for the year, so far. That's a number much less than some, much more than others. I could've, and maybe should've, done more, but I don't think it really matters. I'm not getting paid to do this anyway; may as well keep it fun (not like it has been lately).

Oh, Le Ramrod/Le Rambo/Le Bambo is on hiatus. He (of course it's a he) gave up his Centaur mechs, handlebars and brakes for the Voodoo, which until a few days ago had a fine coating of dust all over. Last time I rode that bike was then, and with race season fast approaching, it was high time to get shit into gear. The Prelude's getting a 175mm crank and the Look Keo pedals, along with some fenders, and it'll be the go-to road trainer on the days when I don't feel like riding the CX bike.

I'm hoping by the time September rolls around, that job and salary comes my way so I can get the Indy Fab or Eddy Merckx that I so do deserve. But with nine days left in August, that ain't very likely.

12,000 Calories

I don't believe Phelp's assertion that he chows down 12,000 calories a day. No matter how much a glutton you are, or how much you've exercised, the 12K of KCal he reportedly consumes while in serious training is an impossibility. My guess, that number's a falsehood generated to cast some aura around Phelps as he's pretty much the King of the World Pool at this moment. In the TdF, riders eat at most 6,500 calories and while cycling and swimming are like, well, apples and oranges (or pizza and burgers), a calorie burned is a calorie burned. I myself chow through 2,500-2,800 a day, but that's because I'm still fixated on my weight, four years after getting myself into shape.

Anyway, enough with the conjecture. I came across this, from here.



Even back when my brother's NCAA tennis team came into town and my parents hosted them, they'd probably knock down 4,000 calories over a day-long tourney cycle. And tennis's pretty intensive, too. Whatever he or I are burning, at least we're moving our bodies enough to warrant that extra scoop of Ben & Jerry's or that third (or fourth!) slice of pizza. That, to me, is the real prize of athleticism and not a gold medal or in my case, a pair of socks as prize for coming in third in a CX race.

Goodreads

After about four months, I've finally logged back into my GoodReads account. Take a look at what I'm gaping and feel free to comment. My goal for the rest of August is to tally-up all of my books, which right now numbers at around 1,000, no lie.

My Latest Sins

Once again, all the recyclables piled-up in a box in the corner of the kitchen, next to the stove, went un-recycled and instead went into the dumpster with the rest of the trash.

My heart weighs heavy with guilt I toss in the trashbin all these aluminum cans and sheafs of last week's New York Times. Every. Single. Time.

If there's one thing that my previous locales had it better than Chicago, it was in recycling programs. Yeah, my tongue's right where it needs to be, in cheek. Cincinnati had green recycling bins since at least 1992 or so, same with Athens. When I first visited Chicago, I could hardly bring myself to toss something that could be recycled into the trash can – it was hardwired into my brain not to.

My parents being ex-hippies, dreamers, and reasonably environmentally concerned (despite the succession of Land Rovers), drilled it into me and my brothers' heads that we were to minimize our impact on the environment by seeing to it that we separate our waste from what could be reused. Imagine their disappointment if they were to see what sins I did commit today.

I swear I'm going to repent, I swear that I'll be a better man. I'll get those milk jugs, soy milk cartons, and tin cans right where they belong: in a blue bin, no matter the inconvenience or trouble.

To all my friends and family – I've come back out of the dark and into the light. Please receive me with open arms and tears of love.

Classics of Everyday Design

My favorite everyday things.

Apologies

A few years ago I was way into road racing. Now, not so much. The few I've done this year were disappointing, and for no reason other than I lack guts. I'll be mid-pack, hanging-in and feeling good, and then someone goes down behind me or to the side and I lose my nerve, my cool, and I drop back enough that I'm no longer in contention. I'm strong enough to do well – numbers don't lie – but the disconnect with what my legs and lungs can do versus the mind that controls them is something else entirely. I get scared of going down and back off, content with coming in 40th, ahead of a stream of stragglers.

Kevin Clark and I share the same sentiment, that we hate crits – however, he did Glencoe last Sunday and I did not. I was out the night before drinking with Ben to celebrate his birthday and as opposed to having one or two, drinking a bunch of water, and going home early, I tore it up. I got in bed by 1 AM, woke up at 5:30 to meet the crew to ride to Glencoe, and felt like garbage all day. I felt strong on the ride up, but I was in no condition to race. Now a few days later, I think I sabotaged myself so I had an excuse not to line up and race for 30 minutes. I'm scared of going down, hurting myself and trashing my 'cross season after coming close to trashing it last year after doing something to my ribs after taking a spill in the woods at Montrose Harbor. I only got four races in when I should've and hoped-to have done ten. 2006 was trashed due to graduate school and a broken wrist, so I wanted to come back strong, especially since I had done so well back in 2005.

So, now, I apologize to everyone for making excuses, for wussing-out, for talking the talk, but hardly walking the walk. I'm going to work through whatever barrier is blocking the bravery and the guts and I hope to do a few road races before the season's done. However, I, and you, know full well that a tumble in the dirt and mud in a 'cross race hurts a lot less than one on the pavement, so try not to notice if I start sliding back in the pack and find a reason to pull myself out of contention.

I'm trying, I swear.

Hardcore like Sven Nys

No, I'm not, but I sure wish I was.



Only about a month away until this action starts for me, but the practices have already begun. Anyone selling a Campy Veloce group, or at least the shifters and derailleurs? My Voodoo is in desperate need of a new transmission.