11:36 p.m. 2010-03-14
I don't know what to make of this
Quick entry brought on by a barrage of Freds.
Mostly cousin Fred, but Fred DB messaged me from out of the blue earlier today as well.
Sometimes you notice a pattern that you didnít realize was there before, and you wonder where it came from or what it means. Like apparently, according to a nature TV program I saw once upon a time, humans, humming birds, dogs, whales, just about all animals have about the same number of heart beats over the course of their typical life times. I donít know if that is true and how big a range ďabout the sameĒ really means.
Once upon a time I was having a conversation with my Cousin Fred, and he asserted, I believe, that women were catching up to men athletically speaking. I said I didnít really think so. Well, Iíd certainly concede the point if we were talking about participation in organized athletics, but we were talking about world records. He said that the marathon record gap was shrinking, and I said that womenís world records are about 10% slower than menís records. Or maybe it is the other way, menís records are 10% faster. Anyway, he said that isnít true, the world record on the erg (Fred was a rower in college) for men is such and such and the record for women isÖ and then it dawned on him that it was almost exactly 10%.
And so a ďtruthĒ was discovered for both of us.
Today I was on the erg (this is what crew people call rowing machines) working out. Iím always fiddling with things to think about on the machine, and today I tried closing my eyes and counting my strokes for the duration of a song. I always listen to music while Iím rowing, usually mash up mixes. The mash-ups that I did the ďclose my eyes and countĒ were between 3:35 and 4:35 long, I closed my eyes and counted 5 times during my work out, and each song ended up with between 100 and 104 strokes in it.
I donít know what that means. But it feels like it means something. It feels like there is a natural lifespan to a song, like every song has about the same number of beats regardless of its rhythm. Like some part of my brain that my conscious mind doesnít operate in much knows exactly how long the natural lifespan of the song is, and is breaking my strokes into 1% milestones.
When my eyes are open, Iím watching the machine and it tells me either my pace or the watts that Iím producing. I try to keep pace with what my eyes tell me. It looks like when the eyes are out, Iím keeping pace with what my ears tell meÖ but Iím not trying to do that.
And in case you are wondering, I donít know anything about what happened in CJ beyond what the news has said. But believe me, I noticed.
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