I broke my daily routine today and went back home around noon. It was all because the new UPS delivery agent responsible for my locale keeps a rather sporadic schedule. Yesterday he came by around half-past-four, when I was actually at home, but due to a malfunctioning doorbell, I missed him. Common sense would suggest that he may show up today around three or four in the afternoon, but based on past experiences, I am not taking my chances. He may well be at my house before ten in the morning.
In any case, I did not find out that I missed the first delivery attempt until I came to my office this morning. With things already planned for the day, I decided to stay in my office till noon. Fortunately, the good lady of fortune is smiling at me today, as I did not find one of those irksome UPS InfoNotice stuck to the door again.
I decided to stakeout here the window by the main entrance to the house where I can clearly monitor the UPS agent’s every move. To make the best of my time, I brought with me an expository paper (Gross’s “Heegner points and Representation Theory“) with me, as well as my usual blue and red Pilot Precise V5 pens to mark down my comments and questions.
Somewhat to my surprise, the man in the brown uniform came by shortly past 1PM, and I made it in time to get my precious packages. Does the arrival of such an unlikely phenomenon mean that my luck is about to turn for the better? With my renewed faith in humanity and UPS, I returned to my office.
Filed under: Mathematics, Quest Log, Random Thoughts | Tags: learning, Mathematics, working
I spent the last two days reviewing and delving deeper into some details on the construction of Galois representation from modular forms. It was a refreshing getaway from the occasional frustrations and disappointments one experiences while conducting new research. Learning new things in mathematics is not as much a challenge nowadays as it was when I began. I suppose I can take pride and comfort in the knowledge that I have grown in mathematical maturity. Everyone needs to return to his or her comfort zone once in awhile to refuel and rekindle the desire and aspiration for improvement, and learning stuff that is well-known and widely accepted is my safe harbor and my favorite retreat.
On the other hand, spending too much time learning new ideas may not be a good thing. It is not just the time commitment, but learning everything that comes my way tends to dilute my focus and make me extremely scattered-brained. So much so that it breeds “mathematical greed”, something that I was seriously plagued by during the early years of my graduate career. I was literally spending every waking moment trying to do something math related, and it was an unsustainable lifestyle that I now learned to shy away from on most days.
For better or worse, I am pleased and grateful that I can still stay away from the internet for a good number of hours and focus on learning things. Even though my merits as a mathematician mostly depend on my ability to conduct new research, I still take great joy and comfort in learning things.
Last Friday evening I received an email from the IAS. In spite of the the excitement, I was a bit reluctant to open the attached letter concerning the position that I have applied, knowing it is just likely to delight me as it is to disappoint. At the time I was too comfortably lying in bed to want to face its implications on my career and my life in the short future. So I left it be, and went to bed. I slept especially well that night.
To my dismay, the next day did not begin smoothly. After getting to the office, I found my MacBook Pro frozen yet once again. These system meltdowns have been quite routine after I got the Time Capsule, and I knew better than to let it ruin my day again. You see, I have my mind set on something else.
After restarting my laptop, I began eagerly working on my thesis. My advisor’s lecture series last week and the letter from IAS gave a much-wanted boost to my desire to work, and I am just doing my part to convert this desire into action. Several times I wanted to actually open the letter, yet the uncertainty stopped me short of actually doing it.
Finally I did, turns out I am “the first on the waitlist.” I guess a cynic may see it as just a rejection letter; but I believe it is a good new to say the least, and I am keeping my hopes up. Considering the state of our economy, I have to be grateful for this glass half-full.
Recently I have been going back to my seven-day-a-week work schedule. It is difficult to gauge your work effort when you don’t have the usual 9-to-5 job. Being mostly in control of my own time, the boundary between my personal life and my work life is extremely blurry. In fact, it is virtually non-existence until recently, when I stopped taking all my math work back home (but soon enough I know I am going to do that again, say, this evening.)
What bothers me, however, is not the amount of time I spent on research work and the lack of a perhaps more “normal” life; instead, it is the unproductive time spent in the office that makes me squinch. For some reason (probably the recent addition of tech-toys to my everyday life), my mind is not as apt at controlling my actions as it used to be. Trifle things like checking Amazon.com’s Goldbox are being quite the hurdle to jump over and continue my research work.
I think it’s time for a good look at the mirror. I need my disciplined self back.
I always thought cussing is something alien to my tongue. Although it defies belief, I hardly cursed throughout high school and college. Although I was no Ned Flanders, but the worst things I recall spilling out of my mouth were “damn” and “hell”.
Since I rarely talked about things unrelated to mathematics during the first three and a half years of graduate school, there was no need for cursing either.
Then things got more than I could bear shortly after I began working on my thesis problem a little over two years ago. Who would have thought that my life would suddenly spin out of control and drag my poor mouth along with it. On the surface I was still did not let it show, but back at home I was swearing like a sailor at times.
So here goes another resolution for this year: ditch this foul mouth.
Filed under: Quest Log
My parents are visiting Princeton today. They are touring the east coast this week. I am glad they are taking a break from their daily routines and enjoying some of the fruits of their hard work. They are glad, of course, because they are going to see me, besides the east coast.
The meeting did not go as smoothly as one would have liked. We were supposed to meet by Nassau Hall, but the tour guide made some last-minute changes and led them elsewhere. To make the matters worse, the reception on the cell phone that my parents borrowed from their friends was obscenely bad. After breaking off a half dozen times, I finally found out where they were, and was able to meet up with them.
Then came the usual picture-taking extravaganza. Every couple of steps we would stop to pose for another photo shoot. I used to complain about this, but this time I was complacent. I was just happy to be with them again.
Monday, October 20, 2008
I got out of the door as planned, above a quarter before seven. Everything seemed normal until I got on the road. Driving east toward the nearest New Jersey Turnpike, the rays of morning sun scattered through the patches of mist on the windshield, and completely blinded me. It was not a pleasant drive.
With the A/C on defrost at near full-capacity, I nervously drove to the Atkins Recreational Area where the race is held. After conducting the usual business of registration and setting up the transition area, I was ready for a warm up. Putting on my helmet, I wheeled my bike to the mount line and hopped on it. This would be the first time that I do a barefoot bike mount in a race, and yesterday afternoon was the first time that I ever attempted this time-saving maneuver. The practices from yesterday helped. I pedaled barefoot until I got up to over 17 mph, and then strapped my shoes in, no hassles.
I hung my bike back on the rack with about 10 minutes to spare. It is a good time to put on my wetsuit. I was still weighing the flotation advantage from wearing a wetsuit and the discomfort from constriction. Finally, the possibilities of overheating outweighed the performance gains, and I decided to swim without the wetsuit.
The Swim
The water was a bit cooler than I expected. I was accustomed to the warm currents of Pinckney Lake near Ann Arbor, but this is New Jersey. Although it was definitely warm enough to swim comfortably without a wetsuit, it was probably cool enough to also be comfortable in a wetsuit. Next time I should feel the water before making decisions.
Also unlike Pinckney Lake that I learned to love, the water in the Atkins Lake is anything but visible. Gladly I can see when I turn my head to breathe, I thought to myself.
39 and under men are the first to go. Since I have not yet attempted swimming continuously for a mile, I decided to stay safe and take it easy. So I did not feel any serious pressure as many swimmers in wetsuits passed me by. Also I made the mental note to sight every ten strokes as I did in my training open water swims. Happily, the plan worked out well. I kept a steady pace and did not accumulate any oxygen debt. My heart rate was also under control. The only unpleasant episode was some jostling with a swimmer close by me. I was annoyed by all the kicking and elbowing, but gladly kept my cool and did my best to get away from the source of the conflict.
Anyhow, I returned to the transition after and was ready for the 24-mile ride.
The Bike
Again, I decided to treat this race as a supped-up version of an endurance workout. It did pleasantly surprise me that I was going at over 20mph without strenuous effort. Passing a good number of cyclists, and taking in some Hammer HEED every couple of miles, I felt this was going to be a breeze. It surprised me more that I did not get passed by many cyclists. This is a relatively small race, after all, only slightly over a hundred entrants.
Finally a female cyclist donning a USMA team tri-suit passed me. She kept on tilting her head down, so I suspected she was cranking hard and her quadriceps are in pain. With this thought, I decided to follow her and make my move when the time is right. Indeed, we passed each other a good number of times. My thick legs are good at climbing hills, and that is when I overtook her on every occasions.
So we kept on going at it for over 10 miles. I felt pretty comfortable and my energy level was high throughout. In the final five miles, she made a move and I failed to respond, worried that I would over-exert myself and bonk on the run. When I decided to shift to a higher gear and crank hard in the final three miles, it was too late. She reached the dismount line couple of yards ahead of me.
It would have been even better if I was able to finish ahead of her, but I have no reason to complain about my performance on the ride today.
The Run
The run, however, was a struggle through misery. Due to inexperience, I forgot to strap on the Velcro strip around my wrist and so had to hold the Garmin Forerunner throughout the run. This little mistake was nothing compared to the severe side-stitch right beneath my left lungs. It was sheer misery, but gladly it also distracted me from the pain in my legs. One mile, two miles, three miles. I remembered Murakami’s book and decided to follow suit and never walk when I am doing a run. No matter how slow I have to run, I will give everything I can to keep running.
On passing each aid station, I chilled myself with the precious cup of cold water. Initially I would take a sip before dumping it over my head, but the fourth sip caused horrible gastric stress and exacerbated the side-stitch. Better keep away from any more drinking.
Running through stretches of white sand was not fun, but it again was overshadowed by a pain far more severe. With less than three miles to go, I begin to feel a burning sensation in my heels. Must be that the shoes are chafing my feet, I thought with some resentment. I paused to see if I can do anything to ease the situation, but a layer of skin is already gone from my right heel. This must be the worst running experience yet, I thought. Make sure that I do something about the shoes next time, I thought with a hint of regret.
Passing the five mile mark, I knew that I can keep running to the finish line. The thought itself became a source of energy and pushed me through the finish line. One step closer to the Ubermensch.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Results:
- Overall: 35/120
- Age Group: 3/??
- Swim Split: 32:33
- T1: 3:48
- Bike Split: 1:07:25
- T2: 4:05
- Run Split: 51:24
Total Time: 2:31:22
Bothered by the occasional inaccuracies in my heart rate monitor, I sought for ways to fix the problem. A google search brought up many discussions suggesting interference from cars and high-voltage electric lines is probably to blame. Many also pointed to electrode gel as a possible solution. So, I naturally shopped around and found a decent deal on none other than Amazon.com. The seller is a Amazon Marketplace Store. A “Special Offer Available” caught my attention. Turns out the company is offering free shipping on orders over $75.
So I browsed some of the items on sale. A gel flask caught my attention, but it was too pricey. Then some supplement called “SportsLeg” caught my attention. It supposedly reduces (possibly even eliminates) soreness from intense exercise. I was a bit skeptical but I was also quite open-minded when it comes to such things. More google searches did not yield any conclusive findings on the effectiveness of the product. Considering the recent huge expenditure, I decided against spending ten bucks to give that a go.
Then something else caught my attention. Apparently some clever inventor in England came up with a piece of equipment for training breathing strength. For ninety some bucks, this “PowerLung” supposedly will enhance your aerobic capacity (CO2Max). Again I began to ponder. A natural sense of precaution led me to yet another search for reviews on the product. There is hardly any. Many people who considered the product remain skeptical.
In the end, I adhered to the advice offered from another triathlete. “Nothing can replace the improvement one gains from hard work.” I wholeheartedly agree. Life takes no shortcuts. Luck is a factor in one’s success, but it is of little use if it is not accompanied by hard work. I should let go of the natural yet misleading urge to find ways around actual work.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
I worked on the brake calipers on my road bike today. I wrapped the right arm of the front brake in a piece of towel and used a pair of pliers to straighten it. This, however, proved futile. The cold-forged aluminum (I suppose it is aluminum) brake arm will not budge no matter how hard I tried. Soon I gave up, finally accepting the fact that the brake caliper is beyond salvage.
For a perfectionist like I, it is hard to shake away the psychological stress from this not-so-minor blemish on my beloved bike. It made me bitter. Soon enough I was looking on EBay for replacement brakes. Despite the raving reviews on Shimano Dura-Ace and Campagnolo Centaur brake sets, as well as their fairly reasonable prices, I found myself prejudiced against them. I did not like the fact that they are heavier than the SRAM Force brakes that I have been using. It is only a matter of around fifty grams, but I was unable to step out of the narrow-mindedness that I am steeped in.
For a moment, I even pondered on getting a whole new component groupo (I made an offered on a new set of SRAM Red). Fortunately I had enough senses to not empty my pockets. It was such a rash decision, I would have surely regretted it had it been made.
The question that bugs me is: how did I become a weight weenie? I guess it is a combination of stress from moving to New Jersey and my personality for perfection. I care a lot about my road bike, and in turn want to make it better and faster. The weight of the bicycle is a simple and easily adjustable measure of its quality, so it is natural for me to be so obsessed over the weight. I believe this may be a common syndrome of many hardcore road cyclists and triathletes.
The pursuit of perfection is not wrong. But one also must factor in his or her personal ability and the reality of the situation. Single-mindedly pursuing one course of action without evaluating the progress is as idiotic as trying to pass through a door by ramming your head against it. It just won’t do you any good.
And the brakes? Oh yeah, I decided to replace them by the Crane Creek SLs. Only 259g!
Friday, August 29, 2008
Living in a new environment is a lot like wearing a new pair of shoes. It takes some time and some pain before one becomes at ease with the surroundings.
For me, I am still going through that stage of pain and discomfort. This is manifested vividly in my biking experience around here. Coming from a relatively cyclist-friend city like Ann Arbor, I was a bit pampered into having high expectations for my biking practices. Yet for twice in a row, the rides have been disappointing. Lack of familiarity with the area and some seeming inevitable heavy traffic sections added much anxiety to my biking rides. The fact that I am using a new set of Shimano Dura Ace road pedals and my new Louis Garneau triathlon shoes made the matter all the worse. Of course, the misalignment in my front brake calipers did not help the situation neither.
In summary, it was a miserable ride. I spent much time riding on a busy highway, looking for the right exit. Yet it never appeared. The pain from churning the cranks together with the frustration of feeling lost made me completely mad. I lost all my sense of trepidation and vigilance, all I care was to pedal harder and go faster. Looking back, it was a reckless and immature response to pressure. I lost my cool and let my emotions took over my rationality. Not a wise thing to do considering there are constantly cars zooming pass me at over 50 mph.
Now lying exhausted on my bed, I am thankful that I was not injured. I can blame the poor city planning of the nearby towns, but I know in the end it is just the natural discomfort from moving to a new city. Soon enough I will find myself a sweet training route to ride on.
I will break into this new life.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
