Throwing myself into a black hole of love, work, living 'Aloha', and limitless travel, I find myself sitting on a plane (I am riding first class....up in the sky...) thinking about the wild ride that this job provides. There are pictures below that share the end of my adventures in Hawaii; Feel free to take a peak, check them out and the fun that is clearly visible.
Today, this wonderful Monday, July 25th, we year round workers must sit and saddle jealousy of educators for their blissful 12 week 'vacation'. Coming from a family of educators, I am quickly reminded of this fact. But, then again, it is well deserved and I hold nothing but the highest respect for each and every teacher, school administrator, and member of public/private education out there.
Well, shucks, more happened in these past 9 weeks than I could ever imagine. Heck, it's enough to fill a year of excitement. Let's try and recap with a VERY long list.
Hawaii (round 2 with the parents), Jared and Erin Sieling visited Hawaii (amazing), K-Miss and Man (Kristina and I) ventured over to Lanai for a perfect stay, vacation in Hawaii, buh bye to the Watermark, see yah later Kaiser, hello Tucson, WELCOME NORA ANNE BODURTHA (probably the world's cutest baby...and this is said without Bias), Luke Nelson Wedding (congrats), bachelorette party? really?, cabin weekend/4th of july with K-Miss and K-Man's families, Lien/Heidi Engaged, Tommy/Kaley engaged, golf weekend with Phil in Tucson (desert golf is painful), old man golf trip, shout out to my boy Harry Potter (yes, I did go see this, can you blame me?), skypin with the gf (a constant), babysitting Nora (thanks Jared and Erin for the help), Kramer Wedding weekend (Congrats David and Stacy...a fun, fun wedding)....and last of all, plenty quality time with the family. Am I missing anything, probably, but heck, I missed bloggin for the past 3 months. What can I say, life is pretty hectic?
I am not going to preach today or provide any crazy stories; once the consistency, flow and routine are visible, there will be plenty of time to share the antics of this day by day adventure we call life. But, before i unveil the end of Hawaii slideshow, I want to give you a heads up to the next 6 weeks (yes, stories to come for a lot of these):
1. LA weekend (watch out Hollywood)
2. Twins Game / Nick Greve Memorial Golf Tournament / Visiting Cousins
3. Andrew Walker Wedding
4. Golf Event / Cabin Weekend? Hmm....I sure hope so
5. Justin Hahn Wedding (going to be chaotic) / BP Trip home / Fantasy Draft???? Yes please. Bringing home the title this year. Kenny Britt for MVP?
6. Vegas Weekend - Will be spectacular
7. K-Gal Weekend
8. K-Gal Weekend - yep, that is 3 in a row :)
Enjoy the slide show. Miss you all.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Airport Interactions
I love meeting and seeing people in the airport. Well, I love meeting seeing people in general, friends at home, Kristina in Honolulu (or wherever we go), and family, but there is something about people lurking in the airports and on planes.
Today I the President of a Company called Connect point. He was by far one of the most humble, personable presidents that I have ever met. Kraig, have you met many presidents of companies before? Well, to be honest, I do not know what ‘many’ constitutes, but there have been others. Each one contains his/her own background, pursuit to greatness, but this last guy put me in awe.
A psychology major, this guy’s current company is a roof diagramming software company that utilizes satellites and drones to take easy and accurate roof measurements for insurance companies. The goal: minimize the number of insurance related injuries to claims adjusters (and make a couple of $$$ doing it). No, the individuals are not losing jobs..yet, because the satellites can’t perform damage assessments.
Isn’t that something? Satellites, roof measurements, drones, detailed diagrams. Absolutely incredible where things are going. Pretty soon satellites are going to be used to cut hair. The other day, I used a pen and paper to write a part of a story. Now we have million dollar satellites and drones for insurance bids. In-frickin-credible.
The best part about this guy is that we looked over, saw what I was reading, “Everyone Communicates, Few Connect,” by John Maxwell and started talking to me. From here we talked about other great books (gladwell, pink) and his company. We didn’t overdue it; you have to have space. Intermittent conversations in First Class are interesting; they need to be well timed otherwise it is awkward and uncomfortable. For the rest of the flight I watched 60 minute episodes (depressing) because they talked about “the winter of our hardship” when DHL in willmingham?, ohio went under. Talk about a perspective shake up.
After exchanging business cards, I didn’t inquire about positions, but more about what he thinks about “Blink” by Gladwell. I hope he writes. The last guy I talked to wrote a bit which was neat.
With one interaction there is bound to be more, and the next one was more from a lurking perspective. In Atlanta travelling from the T concourse to the E concourse (for those of you that haven’t been to Atlanta airport, this is from one end of the airport to the other and Atlanta is an international airport; it’s huge), I spotted a unique looking lady. Yes, unique. I could have used a combo of the clichés, gothic, rebel, liberal, contemporary, you name it, all of those fall into her description. 3 earrings on her lip, a half dozen in her ears, nose, eyebrow, some type of dyed hair, skinny jeans, baggie shirt, vest, sour/confused attitude (well, this is what her face displayed), and numerous bands. My favorite part: She wore two bands on the right wrist that said, “F*&U! You” and “F&%$! Off.” Guys, for those of you that know me, you might get a chuckle out of this, but every part of me was desperately itching to talk to her. I wanted to SO frickin bad, but I couldn’t think of the appropriate clichéd comment to say. “Why do you hate the word?” “Hmm, am I to take that literally.” “How was your childhood?” “I love your artwork.” Perhaps, I could have gone this route, “Where are you travelling to? Portland?” All in all I lurched forward, climbed closer in the rising escalator, but ran out of real estate and missed a golden opportunity. Ah, failure. One successful interaction followed by an unsuccessful one. To be honest, I put partial blame on myself, but also partial blame on when Kristina makes fun of me. She is key in preventing me from making abnormally awkward interactions, and this certainly could have been one. Next time you meet her, or get a chance to interact with her, ask about impressions of me attempting to talk to someone. You will laugh out loud.
Overall though, gang. I am taking off for Honolulu as we speak. There are a couple of individuals that are left to take their seats, but I am off. The picture below awaits me....in 9 hours and 19 minutes.
Shoot me a message, give me a call. I hope all of you are doing well and thinking of the beautiful summer that awaits Minnesota and/or the city that you currently live in.
Love, Kraig
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Blinked and Woke Up in March; Where oh Where did the time go?
Gang, I hit a dryspell. It took me 4 months to come up with new material, and this material is a bit of a cop out. No nifty stories, no funny anecdotes, just pure facts and photos. You may be asking yourself, "Well Kraig, why the change, why the delay?" I would like to blame it on someone other than myself, but frankly, the last 4 months brought me on a hiatus to become one with myself. Well, to be honest, that lines is full of (fill in blank here). I look back and think of the different areas of blame, but ultimately, numero uno points back to mua.
Because the writing has been minimal, non existent, doesn’t necessarily mean that I haven’t been busy. You factor in weddings, interisland trips, visitors 3-4x per month, trips back to Minnesota, a demanding job/client, another longer run (no, not another marathon), and you find yourself in the midst of a whirlwind and time warp. So, what have we / I been doing, in detail? Here is a bit of a breakdown:
· Kristin Married / Kari Announces Pregnancy
· Viking outdoor football game / Favre’s last performance
· Kristina’s Birthday / Christmas with K-Gals Family
· Maui
· Maui
· Date Night (Less impressive than Carrell and Fey’s, but fun nonetheless)
· North Shore Ginormous Waves
· ProBowl
· Visitors
o Stockampers Galore
o Ms. Waterman
o Mike and Carly
o K-Gal Family / Kaui
o Kaley / Tommy / Sam / Malia
o Vince and Tyler (Beasts)
o Janelle, Chris, Phil
· Great Aloha Run (8.2 miles)
· Tsunami
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| Metrodome collapsed and so did Brett Favre. Old Man River made it through the first part of the first quarter, but had a heart attack putting the lid on our Pandora's Box of a season. |
Sunday, January 23, 2011
26.2 Miles..Guys, seriously..it isn't that bad
The next line is going to come as a bit of a surprise to some of you, or may be viewed with skepticism, but trust that it did happen; there is proof.
I ran a marathon.
A lot of factors went into this decision, but at the time of make it I had just finished running 10 miles at a “Turkey Trot”, thoroughly enjoyed Pumpkin spiced pancakes with a delicious caramel topping, and my parents were visiting me in Hawaii. I feel timelines are important, so I want to give you the full preparation prior to taking my first step at the 26.2.
11/25-Ran 10 miles (Turkey Trot), Overjoyed, Silly enough to verbally commit to a marathon
11/30-Parents leave Hawaii; Run 6 miles
12/1-Run a couple of miles
12/2-Fly to Oregon for the Civil War
12/5-No running in Oregon; Fly back to Hawaii
12/6-Run for 2 hours and 15 minutes
12/8-Light jog for about a mile
12/11-Officially Register for Marathon
12/12-Marathon Day
Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm sounded at an inconvenient 3:15am, but I really didn’t need the alarm; I probably woke up every half an hour from 1am, nervous, excited, and terrified for the hours to come. My pre-race ritual was still TBD, so I decided to start the morning off with a nice shower. Post shower brought the Vasoline; I am just going to leave it at that, but I did use roughly 75% of the jar…No bloody nipples for this guy. Following the Vasoline was the band aids to cover them; Like I said, every precaution to take regarding nipple chafing was taken.
My race uniform consisted of Eddie’s running shorts, a tank top like running shirt, some type of running socks, and of course, the shoes. Sorry Eddie, but I openly admit that I kept a certain amount of freedom and refrained from using spandex. For a pre-race breakfast I had piece of peanut butter toast with honey and a 5 hr energy drink. Hip, Hup, Hip, Let’s go. Grabbing my iPod and the 4 energy gel packets, I left my apartment and walked towards the starting line (fortunate enough for me, the starting line was just around the corner).
They said, in terms of number of racers, that it was a down year for the Honolulu Marathon; I couldn’t tell. As soon as I approached a half a mile from the starting line, the floods of people overwhelmed me, and I stood out like a sore thumb. To my left I witnessed Japanese pre-race cheers; To my right I noticed Hawaiian running clubs; and in the middle stood me, a 6’4” howlie…what a goofball?!
For what little strategy I had going into the race, I felt that it was a solid one, however. Hashing through my plan while stretching, getting loose, jumping up and down with the typical pre-activity calisthenics, the firework start shook my concentration. The Race officially started.
Awesome Blossoms reading this blog, compare them to the BP 4th of July finale, multiple by 10, add 2, and divide by .47 and that is the magnitude and longevity of the firework display. And, these were just for a marathon. I nearly ran over 3 grandmas (I don’t know how they were in front of me), 2 kids (why were kids running this), and tripped a Korean gentlemen who seemed unenthused by my presence. 2 minutes after the gun, #10607 crossed the starting line and was off into the abyss.
The first mile seemed like a fast paced walk; crowded people jockeying for position, elbows flying, smiles ear to ear, naïve 6’4, Caucasians who decide to run a marathon two weeks prior were all crammed into a elongated rectangle. By the time mile two came around (geez, mile two already), I looked down at my stopwatch on my iTouch to realize, “Kraig, what the hell are you doing? You are starting off at a 10:32 pace!!” don’t worry gang, I understood that it was slow. Between miles 1 and 2, something inspired me. No, I did not turn on the playlist heard round the world. Nope, no siree. Instead, it was the guy off the beaten path, left leg lightly raised, peeing. I almost cried laughing, but rounding the corner, the lights off of the Irish pub blinded me back into reality. Perhaps this was the moment where the great white hope (me), kicked it into gear. It was.
Playlist. Begin.
“The smell of your skin…the taste of your…” What? Wrong song? Thanks though for the effort Lonestar. The actual beat got me going though; it was Citizen Cope, The Son’s Gonna Rise. Yep, the sun did rise…at mile 13.
I prayed for it to go back down.
By the time mile 13 came around, it was a ‘pinch-me’ moment to determine where, but most importantly, when, it was (that is a partial LOST reference). Things were feeling good though, legs fresh, people handed me pretzels, a banana, and the make shift garage band jammed out to Carry on My Wayward Son; Yes, please carry me!!!!
When everything was looking down and out, running up a gradual incline, sun blazing at a chart topping 78, I was blessed to have two people show up in my corner, Eddie (roommate) and Kristina. The joy in having somebody specifically call you out and cheer on your name is an instant adrenaline boost. When we were at the Ironman shouting at everyone to ‘keep trucking’, it didn’t sink in. To me, those were your basic every day words of encouragement, but to be on the receiving end adds perspective and most importantly, appreciation. So, prior to seeing Eddie and Kristina, I was starting to get emotional. Not because I was in pain, but rather because I was thinking about the relief upon crossing the finish line. Sure the pain was starting to arrive (no chaffing), but legs were tight, numb, and feet, hell, they burned.
Here we are, itching closer to the finish line when these two beaming faces surprised me. Their presence and support was a blessing, but they brought snacks! 5 hr energy, pretzels, and bananas, what else could you ask for?! Oh my, but there was more. Eddie proceeded to run the next 6.5 miles with me! Are you kidding me? That man is a saint, simply incredible. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but Eddie sensed that and offered endless words of encouragement. “Kraig, you are doing a great job!” “Kraig, keep up the good work; you are on a great pace.” Perhaps Eddie’s biggest contribution is that he forced me to enter into unknown competitions with other runners.
Up until mile 20, I was jockeying for position with a shirtless guy wearing a Swedish flag and Viking horns; I did actually help the guy out at one point by throwing him extra iced sponges that I had snagged at one point. Back to the story now. Eddie was quick to say, “Kraig, you are not losing to that Viking. You need to beat him.” I did win, but the victory was in doubt. The last two miles of the race were downhill and it wasn’t until mile 25 that I was able to pass the Swede for the last time; He stopped, but this guy kept going. For the last stretch, Eddie had to take off, but I was able to find additional motivation to finish, another competition. This time, no swede. This time, a petite lady in her upper 50-60s was 100 yards in front of me. Facing exhaustion, complete soreness, I sprinted. I sprinted and took her down with 50 yards remaining. Oh man, what was I thinking?!.
Dizzy, light headed, too exhausted to even shed another drop of sweat, I reached the finish line at 4:11 and some change.
Guys, with the length of the blog nearing 2.5 pages already, I am going to cap it off here. Many, many thanks to Kristina, Eddie, Maggie, Thomas Risse and others that cheered me along the way. What an incredible experience; it is most certainly one that I will always hold near and dear.
Pictures to come, more blogs to post. If you want more exciting stories about the race, feel free to shoot me an email. Am I going to do more marathons? Yeah, definitely. But, let’s get a little variety. Triathalon? Hmm…Might need a couple months of training for that.
I ran a marathon.
A lot of factors went into this decision, but at the time of make it I had just finished running 10 miles at a “Turkey Trot”, thoroughly enjoyed Pumpkin spiced pancakes with a delicious caramel topping, and my parents were visiting me in Hawaii. I feel timelines are important, so I want to give you the full preparation prior to taking my first step at the 26.2.
11/25-Ran 10 miles (Turkey Trot), Overjoyed, Silly enough to verbally commit to a marathon
11/30-Parents leave Hawaii; Run 6 miles
12/1-Run a couple of miles
12/2-Fly to Oregon for the Civil War
12/5-No running in Oregon; Fly back to Hawaii
12/6-Run for 2 hours and 15 minutes
12/8-Light jog for about a mile
12/11-Officially Register for Marathon
12/12-Marathon Day
Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm sounded at an inconvenient 3:15am, but I really didn’t need the alarm; I probably woke up every half an hour from 1am, nervous, excited, and terrified for the hours to come. My pre-race ritual was still TBD, so I decided to start the morning off with a nice shower. Post shower brought the Vasoline; I am just going to leave it at that, but I did use roughly 75% of the jar…No bloody nipples for this guy. Following the Vasoline was the band aids to cover them; Like I said, every precaution to take regarding nipple chafing was taken.
My race uniform consisted of Eddie’s running shorts, a tank top like running shirt, some type of running socks, and of course, the shoes. Sorry Eddie, but I openly admit that I kept a certain amount of freedom and refrained from using spandex. For a pre-race breakfast I had piece of peanut butter toast with honey and a 5 hr energy drink. Hip, Hup, Hip, Let’s go. Grabbing my iPod and the 4 energy gel packets, I left my apartment and walked towards the starting line (fortunate enough for me, the starting line was just around the corner).
They said, in terms of number of racers, that it was a down year for the Honolulu Marathon; I couldn’t tell. As soon as I approached a half a mile from the starting line, the floods of people overwhelmed me, and I stood out like a sore thumb. To my left I witnessed Japanese pre-race cheers; To my right I noticed Hawaiian running clubs; and in the middle stood me, a 6’4” howlie…what a goofball?!
For what little strategy I had going into the race, I felt that it was a solid one, however. Hashing through my plan while stretching, getting loose, jumping up and down with the typical pre-activity calisthenics, the firework start shook my concentration. The Race officially started.
Awesome Blossoms reading this blog, compare them to the BP 4th of July finale, multiple by 10, add 2, and divide by .47 and that is the magnitude and longevity of the firework display. And, these were just for a marathon. I nearly ran over 3 grandmas (I don’t know how they were in front of me), 2 kids (why were kids running this), and tripped a Korean gentlemen who seemed unenthused by my presence. 2 minutes after the gun, #10607 crossed the starting line and was off into the abyss.
The first mile seemed like a fast paced walk; crowded people jockeying for position, elbows flying, smiles ear to ear, naïve 6’4, Caucasians who decide to run a marathon two weeks prior were all crammed into a elongated rectangle. By the time mile two came around (geez, mile two already), I looked down at my stopwatch on my iTouch to realize, “Kraig, what the hell are you doing? You are starting off at a 10:32 pace!!” don’t worry gang, I understood that it was slow. Between miles 1 and 2, something inspired me. No, I did not turn on the playlist heard round the world. Nope, no siree. Instead, it was the guy off the beaten path, left leg lightly raised, peeing. I almost cried laughing, but rounding the corner, the lights off of the Irish pub blinded me back into reality. Perhaps this was the moment where the great white hope (me), kicked it into gear. It was.
Playlist. Begin.
“The smell of your skin…the taste of your…” What? Wrong song? Thanks though for the effort Lonestar. The actual beat got me going though; it was Citizen Cope, The Son’s Gonna Rise. Yep, the sun did rise…at mile 13.
I prayed for it to go back down.
By the time mile 13 came around, it was a ‘pinch-me’ moment to determine where, but most importantly, when, it was (that is a partial LOST reference). Things were feeling good though, legs fresh, people handed me pretzels, a banana, and the make shift garage band jammed out to Carry on My Wayward Son; Yes, please carry me!!!!
When everything was looking down and out, running up a gradual incline, sun blazing at a chart topping 78, I was blessed to have two people show up in my corner, Eddie (roommate) and Kristina. The joy in having somebody specifically call you out and cheer on your name is an instant adrenaline boost. When we were at the Ironman shouting at everyone to ‘keep trucking’, it didn’t sink in. To me, those were your basic every day words of encouragement, but to be on the receiving end adds perspective and most importantly, appreciation. So, prior to seeing Eddie and Kristina, I was starting to get emotional. Not because I was in pain, but rather because I was thinking about the relief upon crossing the finish line. Sure the pain was starting to arrive (no chaffing), but legs were tight, numb, and feet, hell, they burned.
Here we are, itching closer to the finish line when these two beaming faces surprised me. Their presence and support was a blessing, but they brought snacks! 5 hr energy, pretzels, and bananas, what else could you ask for?! Oh my, but there was more. Eddie proceeded to run the next 6.5 miles with me! Are you kidding me? That man is a saint, simply incredible. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but Eddie sensed that and offered endless words of encouragement. “Kraig, you are doing a great job!” “Kraig, keep up the good work; you are on a great pace.” Perhaps Eddie’s biggest contribution is that he forced me to enter into unknown competitions with other runners.
Up until mile 20, I was jockeying for position with a shirtless guy wearing a Swedish flag and Viking horns; I did actually help the guy out at one point by throwing him extra iced sponges that I had snagged at one point. Back to the story now. Eddie was quick to say, “Kraig, you are not losing to that Viking. You need to beat him.” I did win, but the victory was in doubt. The last two miles of the race were downhill and it wasn’t until mile 25 that I was able to pass the Swede for the last time; He stopped, but this guy kept going. For the last stretch, Eddie had to take off, but I was able to find additional motivation to finish, another competition. This time, no swede. This time, a petite lady in her upper 50-60s was 100 yards in front of me. Facing exhaustion, complete soreness, I sprinted. I sprinted and took her down with 50 yards remaining. Oh man, what was I thinking?!.
Dizzy, light headed, too exhausted to even shed another drop of sweat, I reached the finish line at 4:11 and some change.
Guys, with the length of the blog nearing 2.5 pages already, I am going to cap it off here. Many, many thanks to Kristina, Eddie, Maggie, Thomas Risse and others that cheered me along the way. What an incredible experience; it is most certainly one that I will always hold near and dear.
Pictures to come, more blogs to post. If you want more exciting stories about the race, feel free to shoot me an email. Am I going to do more marathons? Yeah, definitely. But, let’s get a little variety. Triathalon? Hmm…Might need a couple months of training for that.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Imposters at the Civil War
The month of December is and has been nothing short of spectacular. Personally, professionally, socially, and even spiritually, it is one to remember. Planning a month and packing this much entertainment into 31 days is seemingly impossible, but through sleepless nights, double shots of coffee, and Inception (watching it right now for the umpteenth time), feats become manageable. Interesting enough, the month is only half over.
Where, oh where do we begin?
Patrick Riordan and I planned to visit a mutual friend in Oregon the first weekend in December. Timing it up perfectly, the Oregon Ducks football team (#2 in the country) was scheduled to play Oregon State (not ranked) for one of the nation’s oldest and finest rivalries. Heck, a game of this magnitude with Pat and I in the same state, ha, there was no stopping us. Arriving into Portland around 8am the guys (Pat and Tommy) picked me up from the airport. Unfortunately, the last time I saw Mr. Nordling was late September/early October; the weeks and months are starting to blur together as we continue to travel at this incredible rate. And, for more information about the quality of person Tommy is, venture down on the webpage to check out earlier blogs.
The weekend was an important one on several accounts: First, to have a quality weekend, and, of course, see the Civil War (nickname of this in-state rivalry); Second, to meet Tommy’s significant other Kaley (more to come); and Third, to spend time meeting new friends in a city/state that I have grown to love. 12 months ago to date, at this specific time, I find myself staring out over the Pearl District from my apartment in Portland, Oregon, itching anxiously towards a Christmas back in Minnesota. Stress-filled from countless Work Go-Live, my hand reaches for the window. What I find is not the city of Portland staring back at me, but instead, the fruitless, snow filled trees behind our New Brighton condo. It is good to be home.
So where were we? Ah, right, Oregon. About Kaley, what a beautiful person?! A quick note: one of the highlights from the weekend (there were several), was watching Tommy and Kaley interact. Boy are they a well fit match. You know people are a perfect fit by watching the smiles and the looks; Tommy and Kaley have that look. Some people call it a sparkle when they see it, but it’s not, it’s something more. As an observer trying to put my finger on it, it almost seems as if that person, staring at their match, is overcome with so much positive energy from a glance, a gesture, even a brush of the hair that they lose themselves in this moment of purity, the moment of pure happiness. And, oh, what a feeling it is to be lost, right Tommy?
After a hard fought night of tipping back countless beers, jamming out at the local hot spot in WestLinn (sp), and a nap at the bar (pointing fingers at no one but myself), we woke up early Saturday morning with headaches, cotton mouth, and a mission laid out in front of us. Throwing on Oregon Ducks gear (Thanks or “Un” thanks Tommy for the Joey Harrington jersey), we made our way to Corvalis, home of Oregon State; I felt as though we were Frodo and the group venturing into the heart of Mordor. Yes, folks, I am a movie nerd, enjoyed Lord of the Rings, and will admit that I own several versions of the movie. Back to reality.
The town of Corvalis is in the middle of nowhere. We all felt comfortable because Pat and Tommy grew up in Virginia, MN and I grew up in Blooming Prairie, MN (if you have to ask, it is in the middle of nowhere). But, in the middle of Corvalis is an immaculate stadium, perhaps one of the neatest stadiums that I have visited.
Stopping by a bar to get a couple of hangover beers, pick up the tickets, and snag a bite to eat, we were abruptly greeted by a strange comment at a corvalis bar. “Hey what’s up you Joey Harrington looking Mother Trucker” (this is a pg 13 blog). Laughing uncrontollobly, we slowly weaseled ourselves in a booth. By the time we left the bar, the Miller Lite sponsor girls emptied out their entire collection of giveaway materials, Pat had several necklaces on, we owned new shirts, and Tommy managed to set a new record for fastest eating of a burger (2.4s, what a beast?!).
The game itself was entertaining; the sites, the chants, the rivalry, the cold, fall weather in the upper northwest, and of course, the energy of a college football city. Standing up the entire time, three specs of green in a sea of orange, we couldn’t have felt more out of place. But, we used this to our advantage, and by the time the clock struck 0 at the end of the game, we were holding up #1s and chanting like the rest of the small percentage of Duck fans. Oh, there’s more.
Pat wanted to a closer view of the field and after running down the 15 rows to get to field level, he noticed Oregon fans pushing past security and charging the field. Glancing back at Tommy, Pat’s ears wiggled, a grin spread over his entire face, and we knew the next step; Pat hopped the fence. With the field turf beneath our toes, the victory and thrill seemed to energize us. Running around like bubbly cheerleaders, we high-fived players, pointed at the goofy security that surrounded the goal posts, and joined in chants. At one point, buzzing with laughter and excitement (they don’t serve alcohol at the stadium so this is excitement alone), I stopped to look at Pat and screamed, “What do we do now?!”
“I don’t know!!!” he screamed and we continued to run around on the field.
Keeping it short and sweet, this weekend was a blast, an action packed weekend crammed into 36 hours. And, with every positive weekend, there is a lull, the longing to stay, a long reality check walking through security.
The intercom to the airplane chimes in. “We are now making our decent to Honolulu…”
Was this a dream?
Where, oh where do we begin?
Patrick Riordan and I planned to visit a mutual friend in Oregon the first weekend in December. Timing it up perfectly, the Oregon Ducks football team (#2 in the country) was scheduled to play Oregon State (not ranked) for one of the nation’s oldest and finest rivalries. Heck, a game of this magnitude with Pat and I in the same state, ha, there was no stopping us. Arriving into Portland around 8am the guys (Pat and Tommy) picked me up from the airport. Unfortunately, the last time I saw Mr. Nordling was late September/early October; the weeks and months are starting to blur together as we continue to travel at this incredible rate. And, for more information about the quality of person Tommy is, venture down on the webpage to check out earlier blogs.
The weekend was an important one on several accounts: First, to have a quality weekend, and, of course, see the Civil War (nickname of this in-state rivalry); Second, to meet Tommy’s significant other Kaley (more to come); and Third, to spend time meeting new friends in a city/state that I have grown to love. 12 months ago to date, at this specific time, I find myself staring out over the Pearl District from my apartment in Portland, Oregon, itching anxiously towards a Christmas back in Minnesota. Stress-filled from countless Work Go-Live, my hand reaches for the window. What I find is not the city of Portland staring back at me, but instead, the fruitless, snow filled trees behind our New Brighton condo. It is good to be home.
So where were we? Ah, right, Oregon. About Kaley, what a beautiful person?! A quick note: one of the highlights from the weekend (there were several), was watching Tommy and Kaley interact. Boy are they a well fit match. You know people are a perfect fit by watching the smiles and the looks; Tommy and Kaley have that look. Some people call it a sparkle when they see it, but it’s not, it’s something more. As an observer trying to put my finger on it, it almost seems as if that person, staring at their match, is overcome with so much positive energy from a glance, a gesture, even a brush of the hair that they lose themselves in this moment of purity, the moment of pure happiness. And, oh, what a feeling it is to be lost, right Tommy?
After a hard fought night of tipping back countless beers, jamming out at the local hot spot in WestLinn (sp), and a nap at the bar (pointing fingers at no one but myself), we woke up early Saturday morning with headaches, cotton mouth, and a mission laid out in front of us. Throwing on Oregon Ducks gear (Thanks or “Un” thanks Tommy for the Joey Harrington jersey), we made our way to Corvalis, home of Oregon State; I felt as though we were Frodo and the group venturing into the heart of Mordor. Yes, folks, I am a movie nerd, enjoyed Lord of the Rings, and will admit that I own several versions of the movie. Back to reality.
The town of Corvalis is in the middle of nowhere. We all felt comfortable because Pat and Tommy grew up in Virginia, MN and I grew up in Blooming Prairie, MN (if you have to ask, it is in the middle of nowhere). But, in the middle of Corvalis is an immaculate stadium, perhaps one of the neatest stadiums that I have visited.
Stopping by a bar to get a couple of hangover beers, pick up the tickets, and snag a bite to eat, we were abruptly greeted by a strange comment at a corvalis bar. “Hey what’s up you Joey Harrington looking Mother Trucker” (this is a pg 13 blog). Laughing uncrontollobly, we slowly weaseled ourselves in a booth. By the time we left the bar, the Miller Lite sponsor girls emptied out their entire collection of giveaway materials, Pat had several necklaces on, we owned new shirts, and Tommy managed to set a new record for fastest eating of a burger (2.4s, what a beast?!).
The game itself was entertaining; the sites, the chants, the rivalry, the cold, fall weather in the upper northwest, and of course, the energy of a college football city. Standing up the entire time, three specs of green in a sea of orange, we couldn’t have felt more out of place. But, we used this to our advantage, and by the time the clock struck 0 at the end of the game, we were holding up #1s and chanting like the rest of the small percentage of Duck fans. Oh, there’s more.
Pat wanted to a closer view of the field and after running down the 15 rows to get to field level, he noticed Oregon fans pushing past security and charging the field. Glancing back at Tommy, Pat’s ears wiggled, a grin spread over his entire face, and we knew the next step; Pat hopped the fence. With the field turf beneath our toes, the victory and thrill seemed to energize us. Running around like bubbly cheerleaders, we high-fived players, pointed at the goofy security that surrounded the goal posts, and joined in chants. At one point, buzzing with laughter and excitement (they don’t serve alcohol at the stadium so this is excitement alone), I stopped to look at Pat and screamed, “What do we do now?!”
“I don’t know!!!” he screamed and we continued to run around on the field.
Keeping it short and sweet, this weekend was a blast, an action packed weekend crammed into 36 hours. And, with every positive weekend, there is a lull, the longing to stay, a long reality check walking through security.
The intercom to the airplane chimes in. “We are now making our decent to Honolulu…”
Was this a dream?
Monday, December 6, 2010
…And I’m Leaving, On a Jet Plane, Don’t Know When I’ll Be Back Again
Let me preface this blog by saying that things might get a little sentimental (it could be because I am listening to Brian Adams, sitting on a flight back to Hawaii, and sure enough, Glee is playing on TV. Too much info? Perhaps), please proceed with caution.
I flew home for a night in the middle of November. My flight schedule consisted of this: Red eye to Minneapolis Wednesday night, arrived in Minny at Noon, flew down to Chicago around 3pm, training in Chicago Friday morning/afternoon, returned to Minny early evening, taxi to dinner on Friday night (night of the first big snowstorm), spent the evening at my sister’s place in New Brighton, and then flew back to Hawaii on Saturday morning. What the heck was I thinking?!
During all that travel, training, and experiences, there is one 4 hour span that I want to talk about. Knowing that I have yet to have the opportunity to connect with as many people as I would like to upon my return, we tried setting up a dinner for a small group of us Friday night. Arriving back in Minneapolis Friday night, I took a cab directly to a family owned Italian restaurant in St. Paul. Showing up an hour early, my eyes directed me to the bar where a cozy stool awaited. The restaurant name evades me as I write this, but it was nice, quaint, and ‘family owned’ is the best way to describe it. Prices were more than fair, the owners are pleasant, friendly, and proud of their restaurant. After all, it IS the oldest Italian family owned restaurant in the nation (didn’t realize this was a measurement).
Slowly, the group began to venture in. First, Tyler Kramer, part of Hayfield’s finest family. Shortly, after him, the largest group, Aaron (my brother in law), Kari (my sister), Erin and Jared (two of my best friends), and Patrick Riordan (diddo). Yarusso Brothers!! Just thought of it, what a breakthrough. I was fortunate enough to strike a wonderful relationship with the Yarusso owners and they were more than complimentary to me and the entire group.
After sitting down, our oddly mixed group brought together to have a good time simply lost ourselves in conversation, embarrassing stories, current happenings, silly things, and of course my sister’s big announcement. Kari, you out there? Do you care if it is on the blog now? (I guess time will tell). Just as we were to yell out the ‘congratulations,’ none other than Jon Lien and the beautiful Heidi showed up. Ah, two more fantastic people. This was it, they rounded out the group pleasantly: 9 brilliant individuals, good times.
The rest of the night consisted of drinks, going to a ‘police bar’ in St. Paul, and continuing to catch up with one another. Enjoying the connection, regaining laughs with the group, jibes and jokes, it was more than I could have asked for. It wasn’t until boarding the plane, alone in the airplane, that I realized how fortunate one can be to associate with these quality of people (with the exception of my brother in law, ha!)…kidding Aaron. We live in an age where connection is at our doorstep, the click of a finger, or even the switch of an online camera (almost creepy at times), yet there is still one problem with travelling; you can’t put a price to physical distance. We take this for granted every day, being physically close to the ones we love and those we cherish. I don’t have any wise words, but this is my blog and heck, I am reflecting J. The second reason that this blog took on a reflective nature is because my parents just visited me for 5.5 days in Honolulu.
I, and hopefully they agree, enjoyed a near perfect vacation. Site-seeing, time on the beach, introductions and new relationships, peace, quite, and space, what more could you ask for? Exhausted from the previous week, I again took for granted the distance my parents took to come to visit and the shortness of time. Sure enough, Sunday evening arrived and we were saying goodbye at the airport, arms in arms, reluctant to let go. Let’s rewind, what had we done:
1. Pearl Harbor
2. Turkey Trot
3. Thanksgiving in Ko’Olina / Lagoons
4. Pali Lookout / Manoa Falls / Watched Matt Zellmer and Luther play basketball (matt is an awesome blossom, great kid, and it was nice to have another ‘blooming onion’ in Hawaii)
5. Island Tour: Tantalus Road, H3 (beautiful drive), King Kamahamaha Highway (sp), North Shore, Haliewa, Shrimp Shacks, Hard Rock Waikiki
6.Brunch at Dukes, beach time, Airport. Early Sunday morning as I lay on the couch, staring at my computer, my mom walked over and said, “Kraig, I got teary eyed thinking about leaving.” Well, Mom, diddo as I write this blog.
Prior to the airport, we stopped by Barnes and Nobles to grab a couple of books, ate at Bubba Gump Shrimp, and then made our way to the airport. My parents said good bye to Kristina with heartfelt hugs, a gift exchange (they say thanks Kristina, and I believe my mom hugged the card after she read the message), and ‘see yah in Decembers.’ Each mile to the airport felt as though it were an inch. Have any of you ever felt this? The more you want to hold onto something, the faster time speeds up and before you know it, time passes. I even tried driving particular slow, but the brief traffic jam that I caused prompted me to speed up. Einstein talked about the theory of relativity from a certain perspective, and so did LL Cool J in Deep Blue Sea (Terrible movie, and this is my attempt to bring humor to this discussion). He simply said, “Put your hands on a hot stove and seconds feel like hours; put your hands on a hot girl and hours feel like seconds.” Different situation, similar concept.
Losing myself in conversation with friends and family, connecting with them, laughing, loving, those hours passed by as quickly as it takes to ‘see yah later.’ Losing myself in closeness with family, friends in Hawaii, days passed by as quickly as it takes to unravel ones arms from a hug.
Pulling up to the curb, we all seemed to operate in slow motion, still disinclined to step out of the car. Some of you may be blaming this slow motion on old age, but my parents are not that old.
Popping the trunk and stepping out of the car, it was funny to see my dad unfold himself out of the back of the convertible (just rented for the 4 days, relax guys). Grabbing the luggage, passing it over, we knew the moment had arrived. First, my dad, expecting the handshake and a partial hug, I hesitated for a second when he leaned forward with both arms for the real thing, a full hug; for as long as I can remember, I do not recall the last full hug between the two of us, but more important, I will always remember this one. The feeling of security when your dad wraps his arms around you is overwhelming, an escape from any worry that one might have. It happened here; I was blown away.
Next, mom. Mothers' hugs and are sappy, it is expected, but even though it is expected, there is no denying or even describing a mother’s love and the feelings that are shared when you hug your mom. It isn’t security or protection; oh no, to me it’s vulnerability, genuine emotion found in an action as simple as a hug.
Time, relativity, family, friends, connections, distance, tears. Goodbyes are difficult, but just as the sun continues to set and the plane ascends we must look forward to the last lines, the ‘see you laters’, the phone calls, the blogs, the instant messages and texts…For just around the corner, two weeks, two months away is a plane descending, a “Welcome Home,” giving us the opportunity to lose ourselves in conversation, love, and laughs once again.
A Turkey Trot and a Very Hau’oli La Ho’omakika’I (Happy Thanksgiving)
Before I describe my wonderful Thanksgiving experience out here in Hawai’I, I first want to wish each of you reading this a fabulous Black Friday, and I hope that all of you were able to enjoy the time this weekend with family and friends.
My Thanksgiving consisted of a 10 mile Turkey Trot, Thanksgiving buffet at Ko’Olina with a dozens of friends and family, and, fittingly enough, beach time with cocktails at the beautiful lagoons.
On Tuesday my parents bravely ventured out to visit me in Hawaii, and the time spent has been nothing short of spectacular. After a decent night’s sleep Tuesday night, we set about experiencing HI in typical tourist fashion; Number one on our agenda was Pearl Harbor. I do not need to justify why we went to Pearl Harbor, but there are several aspects of it that I want to touch upon. First, the rich history and trying to transport oneself back into that time period is impossible. The only American’s that I believe can relate to this tragedy would be those in the buildings or even standing outside of the World Trade Centers on 9/11. This is not downplaying the hard fighting soldiers in Afghanistan and the Middle East, but the point is that, in terms of sheer pandemonium and ‘dastardly attacks’, these two are incomparable.
The other considerations that need to be addressed are: size, power, respect, and resilience. Standing atop the Battleship Missouri (yep, THE exact spot where the Second World War II ended), you can’t help but wonder what type of power it would take to bring this type of ship down. The ship spans roughly 3 football fields, and although I like to think that I can throw a football over those mountains in the distance, it would be difficult to even toss a ball the width of the ship. As we left the Missouri to test the Arizona memorial, a different feeling consumed me. When I was about to board the little boat shuttle over to the actual memorial, I felt as though I were going to yet another site seeing opportunity. It wasn’t until the boat guide refocused my thoughts to the memorial itself, the Arizona Memorial is a tomb, a final resting place for over 1,000 individuals who lost their lives on that morning. That power, that simple message, reshifted my focus, and regained my perspective. As oil still bubbles out of the ship, we were given a clear day to see the massive ship. Sure the battleship is small scale relative to today’s aircraft carriers, but in the 1940’s it was a massive expansion of steal and ingenuity. Over 1,000 individuals-many prayers and thanks to the family of those individuals.
After the memorial, we drove back to the watermark for a couple of hours of fun in the sun. The biggest news (other than the spectacular visit to Pearl Harbor) is that I introduced my parents to an amazing person, Miss Kristina. Talk about nerve wracking!! Sure my parents had heard about this lovely lady in passing, but to put a face and a personality to my feeble descriptions is an entirely different experience. To say they were blown away is an understatement; the meeting went smoothly and I am grateful for the opportunity to introduce such a special individual to my parents (a bit much? Nah, not quite).
Kraig, stop stalling, what is the Turkey Trot? Well gang, my co-worker Maggie (an incredible person who ran 2 marathons within a month!!) put a gun to my head and forced me to sign up for the Turkey Trot a 10.4 mile run in the Diamond Head area on Thanksgiving morning. What can you do when life and death is on the line? Before the run, the most I have ever run was 6 miles, so who on earth knew what was going to happen. Well, a challenge is a challenge. Let’s do it.
Without going into detail, the run was exhilarating! I am addicted. We finished the run in roughly in an hour and a half and the entire experience was such a thrill. Hundreds and hundreds of people participated, individuals donated their time to passing out water at certain mile markers, and people cheered along the way. Where do we go from here? Sure 10 miles is something, but I decided to take the giant leap and in 2 weeks I will be running a marathon. Haha. If you can run 10 miles, you can run 26.2, right? If you have room for me in your prayers, please wish that I do not break anything during this spontaneous adventure. Hip, hup, 26.2. Let’s do it.
After the run, the group of us, Kristina, myself, my parents, and Maggie, drove out to Ko Olina for a Thanksgiving potluck next to the pool. For visual reference, the pool area has a small cascading waterfall, weather temperature beamed a sunny 75, and the wind blew in from the East (not sure about this, but it fits in) at a vicious 15-20mph. From Minnesotans, Target employees, to my coworkers, family, young and old, this was such a nice experience and I am thankful for the Radtkes (Colleen and Jon) for hosting. These two are remarkable, caring people who seem to focus all of their efforts on others.
That’s all I have for now, more to come shortly. But all in all, I must say, Thanksgiving on O’ahu, not a bad idea!
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