pcs in seattle

When I was twenty one, I graduated from college and went to work for the Catholic Church, where I was responsible for a youth group comprised initially of high school students, but rapidly grew to include junior high school youth and even some 5th and 6th graders.

It was a great job.

Over the past year, the marvels of FaceBook has meant that I’ve been able to be in touch with some of those (then) young people. There were a few that I was in touch with the whole time, but I lost contact with most. Still – over the years I’d see someone when jogging, or a friend of a friend would be in touch and I’d have a bit of a sense of what was happening to the young people with whom I spent my first 5 years post college.

In any case – it’s been pretty fun to find out what folks are doing. Seems to me (no scientific sample here) that most are doing pretty well. Oh, sure – I bet most have had the same trials as the rest of the population – working out challenging jobs and relationships, figuring out how to be married or divorced or both. But the folks that have been in touch? Seems like to a person they’ve remained warm, hopeful, optimistic. And that put me to thinking:

Was it good luck, back then, that tossed us all together? Maybe there was some of that. But I think there was grace, too, but not the cheesy grace that accompanies a holiday meal, or the kind that you might find on a get well card. No, it was grace of a different sort, I think.

Back then, I was thoroughly excited about being Catholic, and due mostly to a great Jesuit education – was also committed to seeking justice where I could, all with an attitude of inclusion and questioning that I find increasingly rare. And while I am less enthusiastic about the Catholic tradition these days – that sense of justice and inclusion are still with me.

Anyway – back then – what I remember the most of those five years was the essential goodness of the people with whom I was working. I bet many of them have kids that are teenagers or close to it – and maybe they are seeing some of the things that I remember seeing back then:

• Young people had an almost irrepressible sense of optimism that was mostly warranted and very contagious. No wonder we had fun – all we needed was to be in the same room together.
• They also exhibited a clever sense of humor that I think is fleeting – it was full of adult perception and youthful indiscretion. If I had a nickel for every time I laughed when I shouldn't have – I’d still have a lot of nickels!
• They cared for each other. Oh, sure – there were groups and pairs and threesomes. And there were hurtful things, and young romances, too. But all in all – it was more likely than not that I witnessed a genuine sense of caring for one another and for the larger group – despite some of those groups and pairs and threesomes.
• They wanted better. To be better humans, to care more deeply, to be more authentic. Sure (just like me) there were moments of anger, laziness, spite. But overall – people wanted be better at who they were becoming.

I can recollect specific moments (like when I inadvertently showed “the evil dead” to a group of high school students and had to rapidly figure out how to process that with them without losing my job. Or when we took almost 100 people skiing and I had to float the lift tickets and hotel on my credit card. Or the trip to Ocean Shores where it rained so much I thought we’d wash into the ocean. Or the time (another ski trip) when two people both broke legs. Or the fun of taking pictures, developing slides in the hotel bathroom, and showing them less than 2 hours after a weekend away.) Mostly though, I remember laughing a lot – laughing at the funny, at the fun, at the ridiculous, at myself.

So – good luck? The right young people at the right time? Or grace?

I think it was a combination – lucky for me to be surrounded by those young people, for sure. And lucky that I showed up post college feeling pretty enthusiastic. And lucky that my boss was terrific. (We still have lunch together).

But it was full of grace, too, but the real stuff, not the cheese-ball. The grace of self acceptance (at least sometimes) of forgiveness (a lot of times) of humor (most of the time), of trying to be better.

So – thanks, all. Thanks for being back in touch. Thanks for the chance to be together all of those years ago.

And write and tell me how it is with you, too. The real stuff, like back in the day. I probably can’t change any of your circumstance, but I can certainly listen and wish you well – which is about all we did the last time we were together.

I spotted an exchange on FaceBook, between a friend of mine and one of his friends. They were chatting about a bunch of the local races and issues on the ballot here in Seattle and King County, and one of the remarks in particular stuck out like a sore thumb:

The writer wanted to vote for whichever King County candidate would freeze the budget and stop growth in spending. Given the current economic climate, that sounds smart, right? But if you wait a second, and think about it – there are a LOT of assumptions built into that vote – and while I don’t know the answers to some of them – we should insist that the candidates for that office does know.

For instance, before assuming that we should spend the same as last year, shouldn’t we know:

• If the population of King County is greater or smaller than last budget
• If there has been an increase or decrease in the demand for services
• If there are more or less people in school
• If there are more or less workers contributing to the tax base
• If any increases in the King County budget came from Federal or State dollars
• Which funds are mandated by laws for which we’ve voted

I’m not a policy wonk, and not very good at math –but I was able to find out that the population of Washington has grown by about 188,695 persons, and King county by 48,900 persons. I didn’t dig deep enough to find out more – do an additional almost 50k people here in town mean that our budget should go up? Are they in school? Are they wage earners? Are they healthy? Are they employed? The answer to all of those questions matter a lot.

So –back to that question. Would it pass the reasonable test if I said to a family of two that they should maintain their grocery budget (not to mention their laundry, clothes, education) when they had a baby or two? Not really – we wouldn't expect that such a family would continue to make ends meet without increasing their access to goods and services. Maybe dad gets an extra job. Maybe mom does, too. Maybe they get food from a food bank. Maybe they get subsided medial help. Or maybe they are lucky, and their wages rise. If they don’t, though –and if that family stays healthy and fed – the community is helping them.

You can see where I’m headed here – asking for the same (or a smaller) budget isn’t the right question. It’s important – especially now when there is less money. And it’s certainly important to prioritize. But to assume that an increase in spending is bad, and a decrease is good, without answering some of the questions I’ve noted above is silly. As I said, I’m not very good at math, or public policy. That’s why we elect people – so that they can be really good at math and public policy – and can make choices based in the best and most relevant information.

That’s who will get my vote.

Oh. In case you’re interested – you should take a look at a report produced every year by King County. It’s long, but it is broken into chapters. I found this one particularly interesting. We all know that data can be manipulated to say what we want it to, and I don’t know the author. But some things stand out:

• More than half of the workers in King County don’t make enough to qualify as having a living wage. Let’s argue about that. (That wage, by the way, as calculated in this document, is about $28/hour.)
• Average wages in real dollars (adjusted for inflation and those sorts of things) haven't’ changed much in the last couple of years. That means that while prices are going up, wages aren’t.

There’s a lot more there to read. You can find the entire report and read it – might help you decide who will get your vote in November!

Looks like I am on track to clock 1,000 running miles this year – my best total for some time. Turns out that the more you run (provided you stay injury free) the faster you get. I took a quick peek at my running log to see how I’m comparing to last year – and I’m already ahead by almost 100 miles.

That sounds pretty good – but back in 2002-2004, I was running well over a thousand miles a year, and peaked at 1,600 miles in 2004.

2005 was off to a good start, I ran the Boston marathon – and then I happened to meet my wife, moved, my dad passed away – so it was a year that was full of unexpected surprises, and I ran a lot less.

2006 was better. 2007 was worse (although I swam and rode a lot getting ready for a tri – so I can’t really compare) and 2008 was better still.

How does that old saying go? A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step? Well – I took that step on January 1 in Manhattan (despite the snow, or maybe because of it) and I’ll finish in December. Not bad. And while my mileage has varied a fair bit month to month – the cumulative miles show that each month has been faster than the last, from a slow of an 8.07 average to this month, where I’m averaging a 7.33 pace so far.

So – whatever your goals – get started! Effort upon effort most often yields results!

I’m on the train on my way back from another relay race. Hood To Coast is among the first, best, and largest running relay in the world, and I’ve run the race with friends and strangers a lot over the years.

This time, I ran for Parkland Youth – a group of Pacific Lutheran University track runners who are all in their early 40’s. That makes them a masters team – and this year they were looking to break 21 hours (the race is 200 miles) and to win their division. They were short a runner, and I had the chance to toss my hat in the ring. I was pretty sure that I’d be the slow guy on the fast team, so I ramped up my speed training and also asked for the shortest total distance, thinking that I’d rather take a beating on a severe downhill than run a total of 18 miles!

I was a bit nervous about a couple of things: Racing with a bunch of complete strangers AND not being fast enough! Although I’ve been running and racing for years – I didn’t take it up until well after college – and there is a marked difference between those who raced in college and those who didn’t. I didn’t know if I’d fit in with a bunch of guys that raced together for four years – and was also nervous that I’d mess up their plans for the win!

Turns out – I was lucky on both counts. The team was comprised of 12 runners, two others like me who weren’t PLU grads. But all were masters runners, had some experience with Hood To Coast, and had typical, ribald senses of humor. For instance, running and talking about bowel movements tend to go together. As Chris said “I have to move, if I’m going to move!” And move he did – he cranked out 3 runs at a 6.30 or  better pace. Four, if you count his sprint from the porta-john, where as he described it:

"I knew I had to move, so I had to move. There was just one curve left in my lower intestine, so I almost yanked a guy out of the porta-john to take care of that curl. I heard Nathan yelling for me, so in one fluid motion, I grabbed the TP, wiped, upped my shorts, and opened the door and raced to the hand off.”

Of course, the re-telling was exaggerated, but the running wasn’t. We left Timberline Lodge at 6.30, just 15 minutes ahead of the very fastest teams. I was starting, and was more than a bit nervous: both vans had come to the start line to watch, and they’d drive past me on my way down the hill. On top of that, I was due to lose about 2,500 feet of elevation over 5.6 miles – a grade that approached 9% in places. Nathan (our team captain) had figured that I would run a sub six minute pace, based on one of my recent races and on the downhill. I was skeptical – but I did hit the first mile at 5.30 – I time I’ve rarely seen on my watch. The next mile was slower, and the pounding wasn’t so bad – at least not in the moment! I had a hard time actually measuring my pace, because I wasn’t working very hard – gravity was doing most of the work. I raced down, down, down, and finished in a 5.58 pace. Not as fast as the team needed –but I hoped to make it up on the next two runs!

I handed off to Nathan, and he smoked down the hill in a 5.26 pace. Robert was next, at a 5.40 pace, Mike (recovering from an injury) was in the low 6’s (he’d promised 7’s), and Scott blew out his long, hilly leg at a 6.02 pace. Craig ran below 6.30, and we handed off to the other van and headed to Portland to rest for a few minutes before starting again.

The break in Portland (courtesy Nathan’s mom) was nice, but much too short. Before I knew it, we were in the van and on our way to downtown Portland. Our van 2 had run strong as well, and we were within 2 minutes of the next masters team. It was about 1.30 in the morning, and cool when I took the baton and headed up and over the Hawthorne Bridge for a near 5 mile run along the waterfront and thru the industrial area of downtown Portland.

It was fairly awful – my legs were beat from the downhill pounding, and I wasn’t really awake yet. To make matters worse, the miles weren’t marked – so – while I’ve run that stretch of road before – I had no idea how fast I was going. My only real option (I had 30 seconds to make up for the team based on my first run) was to run as hard as I could, so I did. It hurt, and there were moments when I was sure that I was either running both the best and the worst run of my life. I tried to keep my eyes off my watch, but it was hard: I kept myself disassociated by doing math. I’m not very good at math, so it takes awhile, but it goes like this:

My fasted mile might be a 6.15 – so – to go just under 5 miles will take around 30 minutes. And my slowest might be closer to 7, which will take 35 or so. So, I won’t look at my watch until I’m sure I’m halfway.

Of course, that didn’t work – I checked my watch, and noticed I’d been running for all of 8 minutes – barely more than a mile. Ugh. Nonetheless, I knew that if I could just hang on for 30 minutes or so – I’d be well past halfway. By the time my watch was in the high twenties, I was sure I was close, and could tell myself that I just needed to hang on, so I did. I ended up with a 6.34 pace – better than I’d hoped for, and a second a mile faster than predicted. I was spent – but I’d but my deficit to about 30 seconds. I didn’t know how I’d get through my next run, but figured that I’d worry about that in the morning!

The rest of the team also hit their targets or better – and while the team we were chasing was slowly pulling away from us – we were on track to place 2nd AND to break the 21 hour mark – a fairly aggressive goal for us. After we picked up our runner, we headed to the next exchange for a bit of sleep before our final set of runs.

Right around 8.00 AM, Nathan woke the team, and we all shuffled around trying to wake up and prepare for our last effort. Our van 2 contacted us via 2 way radio (no cell phone reception where we were!) and they had run pretty well, but lost a bit of our margin. Alan came charging in, though, and handed me the baton, and I set off for a morning run, still wearing the same pair of contact lenses I’d put in more than 24 hours prior!

It wasn’t as hard as my 2nd effort – maybe because I could see the mile marks. The first mile was tough, as my sore muscles took their time warming up – but I tagged my watch and saw that I’d covered that first mile in 6.15. I was thrilled – if I could hold that pace, I’d make up my gap! The 2nd mile had the tinniest of rises though, and I could feel the tug of gravity working against me at that point. I was pretty dismayed though, to see a 6.45 on my watch – I was behind again, and more than a bit demoralized. The road evened, and I knew that I had just under 2 miles to go, so I did my best to work my arms, get on my toes, and to charge the runners in front of me. I hit mile 3 at a 6.05 pace – which likely meant that the miles were mis-marked, and that mile 2 was long, and mile 3 was short. That left me not knowing for sure how fast I was going, or if I was making up time or losing it!

The final half mile was a gentle rise followed by an even gentler downhill –and when I spotted Nathan, I got back up on my toes and ran at a full sprint – the sooner I finished the sooner I’d be out of may agony! I handed off the baton, and staggered to the side of the road. My teammates left me be until they were sure I wasn’t going to throw up, and then told me I’d made up a second a mile on my projected pace. I was delighted – it had been a grueling effort, but it had paid off!

My van mates ran hard over challenging ground, and woke Van 2 in time for the hand off. We delivered a 9 minute margin on that sub 21 hour finish time, and we headed for the beach!

We were out of cell phone contact for the next 3 hours, and only heard from Van 2 when their next to last runner was finishing. They’d run some challenging hills, and while they’d lost a bit of the margin –we were still ahead of our best expectations. Alan headed out for his final 5 miles, knowing that he had just a 2 minute cushion if he were to help us break 21 hours.

It came down to the wire! We lined the race course and peered anxiously down the boardwalk, waiting for him to take the turn and head towards us and the finish. We each gripped our watch, and watched as we saw 3.29 tick over, and no Alan in sight. He had just a minute to make the turn and cross the timing pad!

When he DID make the turn, we yelled and waved, each of us trying to somehow indicate that we weren’t just happy to see him but that he had to MOVE HIS ASS! It was a down to the wire finish – he turned the corner and we all had a few tense moments – each of our watches varied a bit, but it looked like he’d finished with just a few seconds to spare!

Although we had to wait (a beer helped), we did get news at last – we’d placed 2nd in our division, 20th out of 1,000, and had indeed cracked the 21 hour barrier by a skinny 15 seconds!

It was great fun, hard, hard, exercise, and fun to be with a group of guys that had raced together so long that the next morning one of them asked (out of habit) “what’s the team uniform for the day?” (Yes, we had uniforms).

We’ll see about next year – they may or may not need an extra runner – but if they do, and I am in shape – I’ll head back for another go at the 2010 relay!

I’ve been a home roaster for 10 years, maybe more, ever since my friend Jen Kennedy sent me some delicious coffee beans. I asked about their origen, and she told me that some students at the University roasted them. I phoned one, and he told me that home roasting was easy. A quick google search later and I was browsing www.sweetmarias.com. Turns out – it IS pretty easy!

I purchased a Whirley Pop popcorn popper, some green beans and a thermometer, and I was roasting minutes later. The technique isn’t that hard, but immensley variable:

1. Heat up the Whirley Pop (I like about 425-450 degrees
2. Add in about 8oz. green beans
3. Whirl for 7-10 minutes (I like a Full City roast, and roast into the second pop)
4. 4ool, grind, brew, repeat!

The other day, I started to wonder if my efforts these past years are a money saver or not, so I did a quick calculation:

• 1 pound of green beans (six dollars) yields about 21 cups of coffee (I enjoy strong coffee)
• Filters are about eight cents each
• Shipping is just about five cents a cup.

Labor. Well. This isn't’ exactly rocket science. But even at 25 bucks an hour (I don’t roast the whole pound at a time – who needs stale coffee?), my time still costs just thirty cents a cup.

All told? The freshest coffee in Seattle for just 71 cents a cup! Whoo hoo! And if I decide that my labor is only worth ten bucks an hour – I’m getting my coffee for fifty three cents a cup!

For grins, I thought I’d see what roasted coffee costs:

• Kenya beans from Starbucks look to be about 20 dollars a pound, or 95 cents per cup
• Pete’s sells a Kenya for 14.95 –which gets you a cup for about 71 cents
• Tully’s cheats a bit –they sell by the ounce –so their coffee is a bit cheaper than Pete’s (tastes that way to me, too) but gets you a cup for 57 cents.

All told – I’ll stick with the home roasting: Better quality, fresh, and fun!