Keep cool, my babies May 31, 2006
Posted by Duncan Brook in : Memories , 3commentsIf you’re one of my Germantown kiddies looking for the photo we took of the class, click on the thumbnail here. There’s a link on the page to a better-quality “full picture” image too.
Remember to be specific and that Big Daddy’s got you covered.
Also, I ask you, what does this little bracket thingy look like?

Don’t be strangers, my people.
Girly-goggles May 29, 2006
Posted by Duncan Brook in : Fight cancer , add a comment
I’ve been a bit slow about equipping myself for the swim because I’m skittish about selecting sexy skintight swimwear and thought I could get by without wearing goggles. Yesterday, though, I came back from my sans-goggles swim at the W&L pool and panicked my way through an hour and a half of white-blurry vision. Not cool. I’m not prepared to go blind as part of my training; it’s just not my style.
So, today I went hunting for a quality swim store nearby here in Arrrrrlington. Swim Fair, Inc. out on Lee Highway gave me a 10% discount when I asked and explained about TNT, which was cheerful of them. They seem like an established Speedo-brand dealer, and they’ve got an extensive selection of men’s and women’s suits, a whole wall of goggles, and piles (literally: they were in piles) of suits on clearance. Given that I know nothing (literally: nothing) about swimming or revealing sport swimwear, I was pleased by the help their knowledgeable staff gave me.
BUT, there was one caveat: the man who helped me tried to say, “The women’s goggles in this model are exactly the same as the men’s — the colors are the only difference. So if you like one of those colors better, you should get the women’s.” I WILL HAVE NONE OF THAT! I’m a man, baby. I wear men’s goggles. Hmmph.
So very skintight now…
Bike v4.0 May 27, 2006
Posted by Duncan Brook in : Fight cancer , add a commentMy new bike is on its way. Here is what it looks like (click to see the image in the photo gallery):
Where my bike v3.0 was notoriously yellow (name: “The Yellow Bike”), my bike v4.0 is all-serious in gray and black. It matches my car, Black Champagne, and will get a name of its own soon enough, perhaps a menacing, dark one. Sweet.
I HATE RUNNING May 22, 2006
Posted by Duncan Brook in : Fight cancer , add a commentI may have hit a big speed bump already.
After the kick-off meeting last week, I went for my first run in many, many moons — on a pair of not-new shoes. I struck out in my neighborhood (Clarendon), got a little lost, and ended up run/walking 4.8 miles in about an hour. The next day, the second toe my left foot hurt whenever I pushed off, but I didn’t really distinguish that hurt from all the other haven’t-run-in-forever hurting that was going on.
I kinda babied it, and the toe pain faded a little as the week went on. I didn’t run again until Saturday with the group, by which time it was a distant sort of feeling. On my walk home, though … owww, like, can’t-walk-on-this-owww.
It’s a weird pain — almost like a mild static shock feeling at the tip of the toe when I move my toes around at weird angles, and a sharp pain when I push off with any weight on my forefoot. The toe itself doesn’t hurt when I poke at it — the only poking that sets anything off is when I push into the forefoot right in front of that second toe — then I get spark of feeling.
Hmm. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I read around online, but I’m not really sure what it is. Could be a pinched nerve of some kind (neuroma?), or maybe a stress fracture (apparently common when your second toe is longer than your big toe, like mine, and when you suddenly increase your activity).
I shy away from going to doctors generally, and more so currently because I have no idea where to go around here. My tentative plan is to skip the one run this week and focus on the other two disciplines, which don’t cause me any problems (unless I stand on the bike). If, by the weekend, it feels better, I’ll get a brand new pair of shoes and gingerly see how it goes.
Sigh. I’m just not very happy to have (rather stupidly) opened myself up to injury right here at the start. I will, of course, point out that I Hate Running — I tore a growth plate off my hip in high school running track — only running does this to me — I Hate Running.
Help, I can’t breathe! May 15, 2006
Posted by Duncan Brook in : Fight cancer , add a commentI wrote this email to my Team in Training teammates the Monday after our big kickoff breakfast — before our first 5:30 a.m. swim practice. You can see where I’m starting from:
Hello good people,
My name’s Duncan — for those of you at my table at the kickoff, I’m the guy with the shaved head and long raffle-ticket arms. The no-hair is in solidarity with chemo patients — one survivor in particular with whom I’m trying to get in touch — but it also feels pretty cool! Driving with the sunroof open is suddenly way, way more fun than it was.
I’m freshly on this list and thought I’d introduce myself because I’m excited to meet you all and suspect it’ll be you folks who push me to actually pull this off — and I hope I can be behind you too. I’ve [brashly, insanely] signed up both for the General Smallwood triathlon with TNT and to ride a century earlier in September at the Livestrong Challenge in Philadelphia. That’s all well and good, except:
- I hate running
- I haven’t swum since progressing from “minnow” to “great white” at the YMCA about 15 years ago; have no idea anymore how to breathe while swimming (problematic)
- My road bike is so struggling that I hear it groaning “I’m getting too old for this sh**” whenever I ride (case in point: it’s in the shop now)
- I gots to figure out how to raise money for two different cancer charities at the same time, hmm
- I’m horrendously out-of-shape (optimistic 5-mile run on Saturday has set off a symphony of complaining body parts)
But that’s all nothing when I think about my close friends and relatives who’ve fought cancer. One got into Stanford despite chemo-puking into paper bags throughout high school. Another set his family’s affairs in order and lived a final full couple of months with them after a catastrophic leukemia diagnosis. Another apparently passed on his appearance, personality, and quirks to me when he died, young, a month before I was born. And another is my hero, plain and simple.
If they can do all that, I’m sure we can do this — so I’m looking forward to it and to all of you.
Oh, I almost forgot:
- Not a morning person; fervently, passionately opposed to mornings; mornings should be abolished
So, um, see you tomorrow morning!
Duncan


