Sunday, May 29, 2016

I'm gonna run right up this hill

After last week's rather uninteresting highlight reel (a post that was surprisingly popular), this week had a few more interesting highlights. I mean, I didn't go to Europe or buy a dog, but I was still satisfied.

(In fact, there are some highlights that don't make it here because they aren't as interesting, even though they're more interesting than things that happen other weeks.)

I was wearing my favorite t-shirt, with Eddie Munster on it. One older lady asked if it was a picture of me on the shirt. Eddie, of course, is a werewolf. Anyone who has known me long enough will know why that's funny.

I went on a run to the radio towers on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. On this run, I saw a few lovely things:
  • a magpie flying in tandem with another, larger bird
  • a field of Palmer's penstemon wildflowers (I think) that emitted a lovely scent as I went by
  • a deer's leg with the flesh rotted to the bone at the top. (This one puzzled me, as it's a heavily trafficked trail.)
But I was most excited to accomplish my second trail running New Year's resolution, to run to Rudy's Flat in North Canyon. I tried last month, but snow kept me from accomplishing it. It was a wonderful experience. As I was going up, I passed some hikers coming down, and one of them said, "Oh, stop it right now!" and the other said, "Making everyone look bad."

The blossoming season for arrowleaf balsamroot is coming to an end, but there was still a good number of it.

 I saw some stickseed, a pretty flower with an ugly name.
 This open portion of the trail near the top wasn't so enjoyable, because there were lots and lots of bugs trying to fly into my ears, my eyes, my mouth.
 Rudy's flat is just a little meadow area. It's nice, but the trees obstruct views. However, the trees themselves are a nice view.
 This could have been a nice picture if my finger hadn't been in the way.
 I often see temples from a distance on my runs (both Bountiful and Salt Lake), but I think this was the first time I noticed it from above. (Unless you count the Provo Temple two years ago, but then I wasn't very far above it.)
 It is the season for mulesears, which are very similar to arrowleaf balsamroot, but their leaves are quite different.
 A chipmunk isn't very exciting wildlife, but I'll take it.
 I have always thought blue was rare in the plant kingdom, but these phacelia plants (along with stickseed, Wasatch penstemon, and others) are telling me that blue is more common than I thought.
 Sometimes I see really random stuff. A car radio perched on top of a gas pipeline sign is one of the most random.
I was really satisfied with this run. It was 7 miles roundtrip (well, 6.99) with a 1,590-foot elevation gain. I've been to North Canyon many times, but this was the first time I ran all the way to Rudy's Flat and all the way back. (Last Pioneer Day I ran all the way down but walked most of the way up.) It was also the longest elapsed time I've spent running, but I was going slow, especially since I was taking pictures. Fantastic.

It's a good thing I got this run in, because Memorial Day weekend kicks off the return of candy. The selection of red, white, and blue candy is usually pretty meager, but I've been astonished by the amount I've seen so far. I think the Olympics are helping with that this year.

Tonight may very well be the last night with the 70s yellow shag carpet in my bedroom. But we're still keeping the Brady Bunch paneling.

Sunday, May 22, 2016

A non-highlight highlight reel

They always tell you that you shouldn't compare your life to the lives you see on social media, because you're comparing your entire life to the highlight reels of others.

That's all well and good, but what about when your highlight reel is still not as good as the highlight reel of others?

It doesn't help when people are posting bragging posts about all the cool places they're going and things they're doing. And they often make their post long after the fact actually happened, so it's totally a bragging post. And instead of posting all their vacation pics into one album, they spread it out over days (or weeks or years) so that you are constantly bombarded with how awesome they are and how insignificant you are, just staying in little Utah and going to work every day.

(Even so, I'd rather have those bragging posts than meaningless quotes or countless recipes.)

I will tell you about my highlight reel, and you will see how un-awesome it is. Maybe then you can feel better about your life.

  • Went to lunch at the Lion House with three other men and one woman. One man quipped, "This is probably the only time men have outnumbered women in the Lion House."
  • On Spotify, I've been making a 50 States playlist, with a song representing every state. At the bottom of the playlist was a list of songs that Spotify noticed were similar. I figured the songs would be similar artists or genres. But no, they guessed what I was doing and provided songs with states in the titles. It creeps me out how much computer programs and sites know. But it did make it easier to fill in the gaps. 
  • The power went out. I had just stepped out of the shower and was completely naked. 
  • Went carpet shopping to replace the 1970s yellow shag carpet in my bedroom. In the process, we bought a mushroom table and bench.
  • Ran 7.5 miles before my knee was giving me problems.
  • Made almond crêpes that my mom said were restaurant quality. But I guess a mother's compliment doesn't mean much.
  • Went to see two friends in a play.
  • Set up the old Super Nintendo downstairs for when my nephews visit in the coming weeks. I'm not a gamer, but if anyone wants to play the SNES, it's set up in a public area of the house. 
You see, my highlight reel isn't that great.

Even so, you can't really compare highlight reels to highlight reels. In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see. And even though my highlights aren't that exciting, my sorrows are negligible.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

A throwaway post

You may have seen that this week I received copies of a book I coedited, A Historian in Zion: The Autobiography of Andrew Jenson. I could tell you about it, but I would feel a little weird putting it on here and then having professional historians Google it and find it in the midst of my personal, frivolous blog. So I will forbear. But you can ask me in person or through other media.

So if I'm not going to talk about that, what will I talk about? I don't know.

I saw the graves this week for Patty Sessions, a prominent nineteenth-century midwife who delivered thousands of babies, and Perrigrine Sessions, who founded Bountiful (Sessions Settlement) after arriving in Utah in 1847. (I believe he met Brigham Young, who was going back to Iowa, on his way into Utah.) He's buried next to most of his wives. But you probably don't care to see pictures of tombstones, especially since they're not the originals.

I don't want to be that guy who always talks about food, so I won't tell you about the asparagus mushroom pie I made.

And you probably get sick of all my trail running (which was minimal this week), but I love all the wildflowers that are out now: mulesears, longleaf phlox, and evening primrose, among others.

I went to Bountiful's chalk art festival, and one of the art pieces matched my shirt.








May is a rather pleasant month, but it's six months from November, and every time I text someone "Thanks," my phone suggests "Thanksgiving," and I'm sad it's not my favorite holiday.

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Why do people think I like nerdy things?

On Thursday nights, I help tutor some middle school and high school kids out in Rose Park, and as I was coming home, my ride, Camille, asked me if I did anything for May the Fourth. Now, I consider May the Fourth to be very much a non-holiday, like Groundhog Day and Talk like a Pirate Day. I explained to her than I haven't really seen Star Wars. I saw episodes I and IV when I was a kid, but I don't really remember them.

Camille seemed quite surprised: "You seem like you would be really big into Star Wars."

I was a bit taken aback--not because I think there's anything wrong with Star Wars, but because that's just not me. Why would she assume I liked it?

And that's not the first time this has happened. Last fall before Comic Con, I was on a home teaching visit, and my home teachee asked me if I was going to it because I seemed like I would like that kind of thing. (His roommate said, "No, Mark's into Church history.") He said he seemed to remember me writing about Marvel comics on my blog. Maybe he was thinking about a Facebook post I made, but I don't think I've ever talked about Marvel comics on here.

And as recently as fall 2013, I had someone tell me I seemed like a gamer. Which I definitely am not. Sometimes I'll play the old Super Nintendo or play the Wii when I'm visiting my nephews, but I think things like World of Warcraft are an incredible waste of time.

Now, given the fact that I don't really like these things, I always wonder: What is it about me that people assume I like nerdy things?

I recognize that I have a nerdy personality. I'm very awkward, and I don't dress well.

I also do like academic things. This week I was super excited to learn that Patty Sessions and Perrigrine Sessions are buried in the cemetery across the street from my church, so I'll have to "visit" them sometime. (Patty Sessions was a prominent midwife and an early member of the Relief Society, and her son Perrigrine Sessions settled Bountiful, originally called Sessions Settlement.) I have been known to geek out about rocks.

I also appreciate a good word story (meaning etymology or usage discussions), and I love watching Merriam-Webster's descriptive grammar videos. (Recently I was at Smith's grocery store and the announcement over the intercom was advertising "healthful food." It sounded so unnatural that I knew some know-it-all prescriptivist put them up to it. I like this video:)

But as for many of the more typical nerd stereotypes, I'm just not into them. I'm not particularly good at computers. I know enough to help the old people in cubicles around me, but if someone my age has a problem, I can't fix it.

I don't read fantasy novels--or many novels at all, for that matter. I'm also not big into science fiction or superheroes. I do watch horrible 1960s sitcoms, which I have found to generally be associated with awkward people, but not necessarily nerds. Therefore I watch Lost in Space and the Adam West Batman to get my sci-fi and superhero fixes, but I watch those more for their age and cleanliness than I do for their content. Although I do find them both amusing.

I suppose there are worse things people could assume about me. I definitely don't want to be viewed as a bro, and if they assume I'm a nerd, hopefully they assume I'm intelligent. But why does no one ever assume I like trail running, using reusable grocery bags, or collecting music for every holiday?

But I guess I can't fault people for misjudging me. (And by "judge" I'm talking more about assuming interests or personality, not the "good person/bad person" thing.) Because I have sometimes made initial judgments that turned out to be completely wrong as well.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Five years

After running to Elephant Rock last week on Earth Day, I decided that on Friday, Arbor Day, I would try to complete my second running New Year's resolution, to run to Rudy's Flat in North Canyon. It was actually on Arbor Day last year that I first went to North Canyon. Mueller Park is a better running trail, but I prefer the atmosphere of North Canyon.

Now, the interesting thing about North Canyon is that there is a mile-long dirt road that is pretty rough, and I know my little car couldn't go up it, so I run up the dirt road. It always has this giant mud puddle where you have to walk on a berm on the side. I think I've only been there once when this part was dry. But the dirt road is still lovely, but it's also steep.

Once you get to the actual trail, it gets even better. I believe the red plants are dogwood.

During the winter, a tree apparently fell over, leaving its root system directly on the trail. Looks like  they've cut it somewhat.

One portion of the trail has this outcropping of conglomerate rock that functions like a stair step. I believe it is from a river deposit during the Miocene Epoch, between 5 and 23 million years ago. But don't quote me on that. 

There were still many snow patches, sometimes even on the trail. I don't know whether it's leftover from the winter or if it's from the storms we had this week.

In addition to glacier lilies, I saw a few yellow bells.

When I come up on views like this, it makes me glad I have the hobby I do. Sure beats watching TV.

And when I got very close to Rudy's Flat, I was faced with a choice. On the left was the main trail with lots of snow, more than any of the other patches I had already encountered. On the right was an unofficial, but clear, trail. I decided I didn't want to walk in the snow in my shoes and shorts, so I went up the unofficial trail. I had to walk, because it was not a good running trail, if it can be called a trail at all. But since it was getting late, and I wasn't even sure where I was going, it wasn't worth it to go to my intended destination--even though I was so close I could hear people talking. I'll have to go back another day.

I turned around, and I didn't feel like running back the whole time--but it was also getting cold, so I knew I'd be freezing if I walked. I did some of both and still managed to get down faster than I got up, even though I ran up the entire time. It was a little less than seven miles round trip, with an elevation gain of 1,680 feet.

Although fall is my favorite season, I still love springtime and its flowers. The Wild Rose Loop, my default trail, is covered with yellow balsamroot flowers.

***

In other news, five years ago today, May 1, 2011, I started this blog. (It was also the day we learned they killed Osama bin Laden.) I haven't missed a Sunday, even if I've had to make very short posts. In the spring of 2011, I had been reading emails that I sent on my mission, and I liked having a weekly record of the things I did. I started the blog to fill that void--which is why I generally avoid serious topics. It's meant primarily to be an epistolary record of my life. I thought I'd review some of the things that have happened in the past five years.

I think I'm pretty different from how I was in 2011. In May 2011, I was at BYU, and I had a custodial job cleaning up after sporting events. I still see two of my roommates from that time, Zach and Chase, at church (one's in my ward and one's in the sister ward).

I feel like 2012 was really a seminal year in my life, the year I became who I am now. I've certainly grown a lot since then, but somehow it was a key year. I became less awkward. I'm still very awkward, and don't try to tell me I'm not, because we both know I am. But I'm less awkward than I was, if you can believe that.

In the summer of 2011, I declared my second minor in geology (my first minor being editing), but it wasn't until 2012 that I really learned geology. I thought that I only liked fossils, but I learned to love rocks in general in 2012. That was also the year I took geomorphology, a class I always think of when I think of my favorites.

In 2011, I applied for an editing internship at the Neal A. Maxwell Institute. I took an editing test and didn't do very well. The year 2012 was when I took my actual editing classes, so I bet I could have done a much better job on the test if I had waited a year. However, I got an internship at BYU Studies, where I gained key experience and knowledge that I think really helped me land the job I'm in now. It was the first time I was involved in professional publications.

In 2010 and 2011, I declined trail running because I didn't like running on steep hills. In 2013, there was a lot of construction on my regular running route in Provo, so I began going on other streets, even steep streets. After I successfully mastered the hills, I thought, "This is great! Now I can go wherever I want," and in spring and summer of 2014 I explored trails and fell in love with them. Now I can run twice as long as I could in 2011, and on steeper routes. However, what I have gained in endurance, I have lost in speed.

I used to be more secretive about my seasonal eating habits. Now I'm much more open about them and embrace them. (I think it was 2011 that I realized how weird and amusing people found them.)

Overall, I think I'm better rounded than I was five years ago. But I can't believe it's already been that long.