Concerto 21

IMG_20141210_184743 (1)

On the radio the other day they played Mozart’s Piano Concerto 21 and mentioned that there was a study done somewhere (Sweden? Switzerland? I couldn’t find it) that concluded that women who listened to this specific concerto during lamaze classes and while in labor had a much more pleasant experience giving birth (how they prove this I have no idea).  But interesting concept.

So today, I decided to give it a try.  Not having a baby, but since I was struggling to produce any meaningful work, I thought listening to Concerto 21 might help me birth out some good results.

So far: not working.  But you did get this post.  You can thank Mozart and KUSC for that.

On Racing


A few months after my harrowing near death experience (not really), this came in the mail.

I usually hate the hardware they hand out at races.  Medals are nice, but what are you supposed to do with them?  Hand out a bag or a mug or something with some utility.

So this past weekend I was cleaning out some old boxes and tossed some perfectly good medals from a very fun races right into the recycling bin (though to this day I still don’t know if they are actually recyclable.)

Except this.  I’m keeping this one.

Once upon a time I raced with purpose.  For a team.  Not anymore.

Races are great because they give structure to my exercise routine, give me something to work towards, and I usually go somewhere interesting and do them with friends.  In the past 15 years, I haven’t once looked at the psych sheet.  These days I race for fun.

in hawaii with friends and one of (3!!!!!) complimentary beers. the best part of the race.

And yet when I find myself standing at the start, amidst the nervous chatter the few minutes before the gun goes off, those old feelings come back.  Those feelings from high school and college.  Like: Oh no, I have to take a dump.  And I feel kind of sick.  And WHY am I doing this voluntarily.  And maybe I shouldn’t have had that egg sandwich for breakfast.

I can’t help it.  Some subconscious monster kicks back into gear.  Part of me wants to race.  And win.

I don’t know if this competitive nature is something that has been ingrained in me over many many years of playing sports, or if it’s just an inherent part of who I am.  But on some level I find it really embarrassing.  Do I really need to prove anything to anyone?  Why do I still feel this pressure to perform?

And it feeds into a horrible circular conflict I have with myself every race.

manhattan beach pier

Invariably, every race, I hit a certain point and this conversation happens in my head:

“Why puke? Look around! Enjoy! This is beautiful and…you are 34! Get over it!”


“You are loafing and you know it.  Stop using excuses about enjoying yourself not to suffer.  This is a race.”

post tahoe relay, 2014. not suffering.

I don’t like being uncomfortable and will go to great lengths to avoid it. But at the same time, hitting a time you didn’t think you could hit, or just out-touching a competitor, is just so. satisfying.

But that that is not why I race.

…and here comes the circle.

So back to the medal.  Normally, it’d get recycled.  But I’m keeping this one.

I’m keeping this one because it was my first race after having my first baby.  It was my first ocean swim after coming back to California, which is and always will be my home.  And, of course, my tête-à-tête with Jaws.  All of these things carry so much more weight than the numbers on the clock when I crossed the timing pad.  If I had gotten DFL, I would still keep it.

…but the blue ribbon doesn’t hurt.


Bluck Blucka Bluck MUCKA BLUCKA!

Music Mondays! (I just made that up, I think this is the first time I’ve ever posted anything musical on a Monday).  Either way, this song/video is  someone’s current favorite.


Paul plays it to calm her down.   (You can tell she was angry before, because when she gets upset she pulls her hair/grabs her ears.  She still has one hand on her head gripping her hair, which means she’s still deciding whether or not she’s pissed.)

It is also a song that will be stuck in your head the rest of the day.  You’re welcome.

Jam Sesh

A The Roots / Carly Rae Jepsen jam session with preschool instruments.  What more do you need on a Monday.  The rainbow xylophone is clutch.

Per one of the comments, Questlove (bottom left) tries to play the recorder upsidedown around 2:32.  Hilarious.


OK, this song’s been out for 8 months…hence the 81 million views on the video…so obviously I’m a little late on the uptake.  The guy is Belgian/Australian and he’s old news down under, but I just found him and the whole album is great and I can’t stop listening to it.

Thanks to Paul for introducing me to him.

Update: I just came across this.  Love.  PS22 also covers Adele, Passion Pit, Gym Class Heroes…pretty much everything.  Double love.

Better than I ever even knew

New week, new song obsession.

Last week it was Robyn (I know, she’s weird). This week it’s Lana Del Rey. There’s a good chance you’ve already seen this video, it has almost 7 million views on YouTube, but I’m just discovering her and I am hooked.

I’m not sure what’s happening with her upper lip in the video, but her voice…  Amazing. I was poking around and found a few of her other songs (here and here and here) and I can kind of listen to them all day long.   That last song might be my favorite.