Whom amongst the least of us hasn’t wondered what it would be like to be able to throw a fireball?

Yesterday, April and I were out preparing for our 5k race (scheduled for Saturday, Feb. 20, in San Leandro, Calif.) with a practice run through our neighborhood. She’s usually far ahead of me when we do those practices so we’ve resigned ourselves to the fact that we can blast the music on our iPods and just enjoy the beautiful scenery along the South Shore of Alameda. On this particular run, it was unbelievably foggy in the middle of the afternoon so there wasn’t much to look at. The mist from the Bay made for a refreshing breath of air though; literally.

As I was heading south on Shoreline Drive, I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift away for a couple of seconds. The fresh air was something else to take in. It’s moments like that during which I feel as if things slow down. By that, I mean that I could feel my lungs taking in the air and converting it into energy to use for my run. I know that sounds silly, but I’m reminded of a Toyota commercial that features Bob Harper, one of the trainers from the NBC reality show The Biggest Loser. In it, you see him running through the forest as his voice comes over the top to explain how much he enjoys running because he is literally drawing energy from the earth. It’s sort of new-age in thinking, but the whole idea that energy is far more real and tangible than we allow ourselves to believe from moment to moment is what I’m trying to explain; probably with very little success.

In any case, as I was thinking something deep about the air I was breathing, I started thinking about how our bodies are like machines. In our most recent quest to maintain good health, April and I have begun watching what we eat from day-to-day and have been getting out to exercise nearly four or five days a week. One thing someone brought up to me during that time, as a word of encouragement, was that it’s funny how people will make time to take the utmost care of something like their cars or their homes, but won’t put an extra ounce of effort into taking care of their bodies. Sadly, if your car is stolen or completely breaks down or if heaven forbid, your house should burn down, you can go and buy a new car or house. You only have the one body to work with–and once it’s broken down, there isn’t much we can do about it.

While I enjoy knowing that I’m working towards good health, by no means do I enjoy the physical pain that comes with running. I was complaining to myself when the thought about throwing fireballs came into my head. When I was growing up, I used to play a lot of video games. My favorites were role-playing games like Phantasy Star II or Final Fantasy II and III. If you’re not familiar with those types of games, in them, you control one or more characters and you go through a fictitious world, fighting monsters, fiends or what-have-you.

One of the most important things about those games is gaining experience. Often, you’ll begin the game at a particular level; probably zero. From there, the more you fight and the more you win, the more experience you gain. That experience is measured in something real and tangible; well, points. Every time you gain a certain amount of points, you gain a level. Sometimes, the advancement in level awards you with more hit points, which means your character can sustain more damage from enemy attacks. Sometimes, you might gain magic points or spell points, which allow your character to use more of its magic spells. In certain games, you also learn abilities as your levels go up. In Phantasy Star II, there was an ability that certain characters had, which allowed them to throw fireballs, called Foi.

In the game, I used to walk my character around aimlessly and force it to fight so that it could gain experience points. That way, when I felt like I was ready to go on in the game, I would be prepared to fight the stronger enemies. Eventually, I remember topping out at level 99 (I guess the game didn’t go to three digits) and I pretty much walked through fights with ease.

Stay with me here. There is a point.

So, as I was running on Shoreline Drive, I realized that I was having an easier time than I did the day before; and the day before that. It’s not a surprise that I’m getting stronger and being able to run longer or faster as I get more practice in, but in that moment of slow-motion, I could really feel it. There’s a point on most of my runs at which I feel as if I can’t go any further. That’s when I push just a little harder and once I pass that point, the rest of the way is easy. I would liken those moments to a tough fight in a role-playing game. I’m literally gaining experience in running and hopefully, by the time my 5k race comes around in five days, I’ll be throwing fireballs with great ease.

I have no idea what I weight right now. I do know that I’m not eating as strictly as I had been for the past year but I certainly am not eating as loosely as I used to prior to losing all the weight I lost. I’m probably maintaining or more likely, gaining slowly. Either way, I’ve been too afraid to weight myself mostly because I haven’t been able to get any sort of regular exercise or exercise at all. I’ll probably put myself on the scale whenever I can get in a good week’s worth of workouts. Until then, I will wait.

Although I’m not feeling well today, I dragged myself to work mostly because I sat in bed thinking about all of the work that would be piling up here if I didn’t come in. Of course, on my way to work, I kept wondering what it was exactly that I would need to be doing. Needless to say, I was having a hard time organizing my thoughts in any sort of coherent manner. The only thing I knew was that I wanted to post a blog entry about how I couldn’t even figure out what I needed to go to work to do; even though I felt compelled to come in because there was work to be done at all. Low and behold, I arrived here and didn’t even remember that I wanted to blog until now. Granted, I was asleep in the car underneath the RSF for about two hours before coming up to the office.

I’m not a hypochondriac but I think I might be coming down with Mononucleosis. I allowed myself to sleep out of sheer exhaustion on four separate occasions in the last 15 hours. Sometimes, I’m able to fall asleep because I’m tired but I don’t often allow myself to. Of course, this could all just be because I’ve been overworked and a little more tired than usual.

I fell asleep with my head on my desk (door closed) at Haas Pavilion from 4:45 p.m. – 6 p.m. or so. Then I came home and worked on a story that I’m writing while April made dinner. After dinner, I worked some more before becoming unbearably tired, at which point, I threw myself onto the bed and feel asleep from 11 p.m. to 12:30 a.m. I woke up and forced myself to shower in a serious malaise. I was dizzy half the time is what it felt like. I worked some more and got too tired to think by 4 a.m. at which point, I went back to sleep and woke up again at 8 a.m.

Now, of course, I’m not getting good sleep at all. But coupled with all this exhaustion I’m feeling is a cough, headaches, muscle soreness, and nasal congestion. I’m at home writing this. Hopefully, I can get this story done and head out to work but I’m not making any promises. Either way, I want to get better soon. Not only because, of course, no one enjoys being sick, but because I’m headed to Las Vegas for the first time in almost two years to hang out with the guys and the last thing I want to be while I’m there is sick.

It appears the whole world is in some sort of meltdown over this morning’s Twitter server issues. Apparently, there was a deliberate attack on the service to create what users are referring to as a “Denial of Service”. From what I’ve read, this is an orchestrated attempt by someone or some organization to overload the site with so much information or use so much bandwidth that it is rendered useless to regular users. I’m not sure how you organize something like that but it’s not like Twitter has never had problems before. I noticed it wasn’t working when I got to work this morning when I was trying to tweet an update to the CalVolleyball Twitter. It didn’t work so I stopped worrying. Apparently, portions of the site are up and running and still people are inundating the system with “what happened?” or “what was that all about?” or “up yours Twitter!” posts. It’s unbelievable how petty people can be. It’s a free service to begin with and it’s not like that is your lifeline. Calm down! Even the LA Times is monitoring the progress of Twitter through an updated blog of its own that you can see by clicking here: Twitter Paralyzed by Denial of Service Attack.

It’s a different world up here in the Bay Area. I wrote about terribly inattentive drivers yesterday but I could probably go on for days about the Los Angeles/Southern California hate that permeates the residents of the Bay. Natives detest the schools down south; namely USC and UCLA (USC a whole lot more); hate the Dodgers; and absolutely loathe the Lakers.

I had a co-worker who shall remain nameless for the time being who was a from one week to another, cheering for the Utah Jazz; then giving it up for the Houston Rockets; and then wearing his Denver Nugget colors on his sleeve. He gave up when the Lakers made it to the finals and decided to be smart or trendy and picked the Lakers to beat Orlando. This is but a sample of what I have to deal with. Never mind when Cal needs to play USC in some sort of athletic event. You can throw all caution to the wind when USC is in the paper or on the television for something negative. I’ve learned to take the attacks and the ridicule in stride; much like I feel my Alma Mater has as well.

The reason all this popped into my mind yet again this morning was because as I drove eastbound on Durant Ave., I saw a nerdy-looking Asian boy with what appeared to be official collegiate athletic gear. It wasn’t a Cal pullover or anything though. It was cardinal and gold and had the words “USC Trojans” stitched into the chest. It was beautiful. I wanted to roll down the window and yell “Go Trojans!” but I wasn’t sure that would have worked out so well in case someone I knew was nearby.

I wonder sometimes if people notice the USC license plate frame on the back of my Toyota Camry. In fact, the first month during which I was working here, I removed the license plate frame entirely. I haven’t had any troubles at all actually. There are other athletic department employees with plate frames from other Pac-10 schools; mostly Oregon and Arizona State here for some reason. The only other person here who is even USC alum is assistant baseball coach, Dan Hubbs–but a couple of people have at least worked there before. It’s become a funny situation a couple of times when I park for a match or a game and walk out of my car with Cal gear on. Someone actually asked me on the way to a football game once, what team I actually cheer for. I told him I work at Cal and walked faster.

Overall, it hasn’t been a terrible experience having to fend off the USC/Southern California haters here. I get the jokes, the rolling of the eyes, the “I hate you now” from people who didn’t know I was there until I mentioned it. But I think I’m able to get that stuff to slide off and change the subject with ease. Those who knew me while I was at USC know that I wore school clothing often. I still have a couple of USC articles of clothing–although much of it is stowed away in a box back at home because I no longer fit in it. My closet is more blue than ever, even though I only wear office gear to work. Limited as it may be, whenever I get a chance, I still don my Trojan wear.