The only thing more enjoyable than doing an interval block is blogging about it, so I couldn’t resist updating everybody on how mine is going and to assure all of those about to embark on their first 6-interval week that it really isn’t all that bad.
Drown me in a thunderstorm, Matt Nathanson.
Tonight I was doing my fifth of my week’s six interval sessions, and as lightning split the sky and thunder rumbled through the valley across which I was bounding, I tried to think of things to distract myself from pondering my imminent death. I had spent a mind-numbing day in the car (radio tally: love story-5, you belong with me-6, second chance-3, use somebody-12), matt nathanson was inexplicably repeating in my head (“come on get higher, loosen my lips, faith and desire and the swing of your hips”), and I couldn’t even think about the latest Williams blog post without running into Robby’s infuriating riddle. Keith seems to have solved it, but there was no confirmation from Robinio and it remains a perplexing mystery in my mind.
Is George a fish?! It's a real Maine trap.
So that no one else would encounter the same predicament, I decided to update the blog. I have it on good faith from Keith that he will soon enlighten us with culture from Italy, so that’s something to look forward to.
Having already made three trips to Maine this summer, I decided to go with what was working and head back Down East. I went a little farther north this time to visit my grandparents in East Blue Hill, which is a heaven-on-earth town of 250 people on the coast, roughly 45 minutes from Acadia National Park.
When on Acadia, look this direction, and you'll see a bunch of mountains blocking your view. Behind those mountains and across a bay lies East Blue Hill Village. Remember to look with purpose, or you might not see it.
While there my brother and I fill the days with laid back golf, tennis, sailing, blueberry picking, and ice cream eating.
For the first time this year my family headed over to visit Bud in Buck’s Harbor and he took us out with Barb and Andrea on his sailboat. We made a relaxed tour of the picturesque Penobscot Bay, then returned to his cabin for refreshments. The secret is out. Bud lives the life when he disappears to Maine for the summer.
The famous Eggemoggin reach. Immortalized in this iconic cell phone photograph.
I made a return trip to Bud’s house so I could go rollerskiing on a nice stretch of pavement that traversed Cape Rosier, a peninsula that featured great views of where we’d sailed two days before as well as an encounter with a former poet laureate. The rolling terrain was a nice variation from my Williamstown rollerskiing (though both sides of Mt. Greylock are prime for the return of the Williams team).
The pavement on Greylock is even better than it looks. And it's wicked steep.
My interval block began the next day and even starting early in the morning did not save me from 90 degree heat and humidity. On each of the first three days (classic and skate 4x4s, running 3030s) I questioned many of my life choices (bedtime, hydration, nourishment, recovery) but came to the conclusion that it was just really hot and that my main lack of preparation came from the 50-degree summer weather that we’d been trapped in for 2 months. Even frigid Maine water felt awesome after these workouts.
Black and white subdues the sun's intensity. But it was hot, and that water feels good.
In order to prepare for the next day, I would play several hours of golf, go sailing, go blueberry picking, row my little skiff over to a beach to read, and go swimming.
Leaving Maine for the summer, taking my Blueberry Pail with me.
Even though yesterday was a miserable foggy day, I’m sorry to leave Maine behind. Pouring rain greeted me for intervals at home today, and it is supposed to be the same tomorrow. I’m excited for everyone to return to campus so we can hammer out the workouts together.
If you're lacking passion, or even if you aren't, this is appropriate.
nice video! great footage of bud and his band that he always talks about.
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