La Patrulla

Just shy of 2 hours from arriving to h-town (who? Mike Jones?). It's the inaugural Mexican road trip in La Tahoe, and we've shifted from jamming to la Que Buena, to Houston's Eagle. What better time to write as the mind wanders out to the vastness of agricultural lands. 

I'll be running the half marathon after a string of injuries this past year. At the moment I feel healthy physically, but there's definitely quite a bit of residue left from a rough 2025. As I watch my comrades stress eat, can't help but be aware of my own nervousness as well. The evaluation part of me feels like it wants to consume me into the black & white abyss. Whatever happens tomorrow, I'm grateful to be able to toe the line again. Maybe I'll find the answers in these 80s rock guitar solos Guero is playing for us.

El aventurero,

E

Odiame - Live

 Brain feels a little foggy this week. Not sure if it's because of the weather change or what, but the strength required to concentrate lately is a little concerning to me. As I live day-to-day, there's noticeable differences in my attention span compared to a few years ago. Could it be the 30s exacerbating certain conditions? Who knows! 

Running has taken an equally sharp decline this year as well since the Dallas marathon. I lost all motivation to train due to constant injuries in the spring. Summer felt like I was about to get back on my feet, but around June I ended up getting a knee injury that I can't seem to fight off. That's why in a couple of minutes, I'll be heading out for another 16 miles on the bike now that the rainstorm has passed. 

It feels good to write again. 

Lately, I'm not as expressive as I used to be. I'm not as creative as I used to be. I'm not as fit as I used to be. I'm not as patient as I used to be. I also don't feel as smart as I used to be (don't think I ever was, but the feeling is there). It's a weird feeling when you think about it. Regardless though, I know, I'll find my way back to myself. 

I'm about to pop on some Grupo Vanguardia while I go out for a spin. 

Too much life is mood,

Erik

The Way I Are

The idea of the future self is a quiet presence with an undeniably certainty to me. Who I'll become on my last day has been shaped by the ability to absorb, process, and express an infinite array of experiences. Writing provides this profound pleasure for me. 

As I was attending to my library, I came across a collection of notebooks containing the most unvarnished journal entries of my tempestuous self. Given my interest in natural language processing (NLP), these personal writings crystallized an interesting problem, as you know, I'm interesting in how a runner's training notes could reveal insights into their mental model development and performance narratives, potentially illuminating the relationship between their psychological framework and physical performance. 

But let's open up the parameters to embrace a more personal perspective. Below is an experiment using layered sequential prompting with Claude for temporal narrative mapping. The idea can be seen as a way of creating deeper understanding of individual growth and development, particularly for people like myself navigating complex cultural and personal identities as a way to understand the natural rhythm of who we are becoming. 

Initial Setup Prompt:

"I have personal writing samples spanning from 2016-2024. I'd like to conduct a comprehensive temporal analysis to understand my growth, writing evolution, and character development. Please analyze these entries chronologically, focusing on emotional states, writing style, recurring themes, and personal growth. I am a first-generation Mexican-American male looking to understand my journey."

Temporal Analysis Sequence:

First Analysis Pass:

"Examine these initial entries from [YEAR]. What immediate patterns, writing characteristics, and emotional states do you notice? Pay special attention to:

• Writing style and structure
• Emotional undertones
• Core themes and preoccupations
• Personal challenges and growth areas"

Comparative Analysis:

"Now looking at these entries from [LATER_YEAR], what significant changes do you notice in:

• Emotional processing
• Writing sophistication
• Theme complexity
• Self-awareness
• Problem-solving approaches"

Cultural/Personal Context:

"Given my background as [SPECIFIC_CONTEXT], what unique aspects of my development stand out? How does my cultural/personal background influence my writing evolution?"

Character Development Deep Dive:

"Based on all entries analyzed, create a detailed persona tracking my evolution. Focus on:

Core personality traits and their development

Emotional maturation

Intellectual growth

Writing style evolution

Relationship patterns

Cultural identity development" 

Pattern Recognition:

"What recurring themes, challenges, or growth patterns emerge across these years? How do they evolve or resolve over time?"

Growth Trajectory:

"Based on this temporal analysis:

• What potential growth trajectories do you see?
• What strengths have developed?
• What areas still show room for development?
• How has my approach to challenges evolved?"

Synthesis Request:

"Create a comprehensive narrative of my development from [START_YEAR] to [END_YEAR], integrating:

• Major growth transitions
• Writing style evolution
• Emotional development
• Cultural integration
• Key turning points
• Future potential"

Also, there is only one song appropriate to begin 2025 right now. This one!

生々流転,

El Mil Colores

SOUTH OF FRANCE

Now that my marathon training is over, I can dedicate a few hours to writing down the corners of my memories before they gather dust. 

Let's begin the details of la chinga de mi vida. 

The week of the marathon began with a kind of mortuary care preparations at the barber's chair. The only proper way toward a metaphorical kamikaze is to have the crispiest fade for the farewell, eh? With the year closing out, the only worthy direction of the conversation was, "How was your Spotify wrapped?" The theme of endings is at the forefront this month. 

Before I could even begin thinking back on my Wrapped, she cut, eagerly, "Man, I've been waiting for you to come in so I can show you something. Look at my top songs." She leaned her phone close, and all I saw was Future. Future, Future, Future.

"God damn! 😂 You really are a Future fan!" I laughed. 

Now, since my middle school days, I’ve learned something important: the more trap music your barber listens to, the more seamless the mid fade becomes. And with the discussion of Future’s albums pumping hood ambition straight into the air, I could feel my barber dialing into her swagger. And there I was, sitting receiving the secondhand end of it all for Sunday. 

Friday found me trudging through the rain, phone hanging on by a thread with only 10% battery, my senses alive with the buzz of the expo crowd. I made my way to claim my race bib—thin, yet carrying the weight of my identity for the next few hours. This randomly generated number, 1711, would define my ambitions for a fleeting moment. 

After the expo, I had that sinking realization—the marathon was gonna unfold under less-than-ideal conditions. Forecasts weren’t cutting me any slack—8am, 57 degrees with 80% humidity, climbing up to a sweaty 67 by the time I thought I’d be crossing that finish line.  Historical data also shows that I tend to run several negative deviations from normal in similar forecasts. But one of the beautiful things about data is that, in some cases, the point is to steer off the trends. 

And the fact is, I was dead-set on embracing these imperfections: to be calm and die like a lunatic!

My alarm rang at 5AM. No hesitation. No weather check. I splashed my face with cold water, followed my usual morning routine: ate a bowl of oatmeal, chugged electrolytes, gathered my pre-packed things, and headed out the door. This was one of the first races in almost 10 years that I didn't feel weight from my own words. I realized I had finally conquered a haunting human experience I've written several times about on here. 

As I drove through a barely visible road, I played one song. Una Raya Mas al Tigre by Julion Alvarez. My people have the ability to paint perseverance, self-determination, resilience, and the realities of dealing with criticism so beautifully. Singing along, I let the words pour into my tiger spirit:

"Esto no me tumba y le doy pa adelante

No cualquier batalla dobla a los gigantes

Una raya más al tigre, qué más da

No le doy

Para atrás

Puro para enfrente, como los aviones

Si el barco se hunde, salimos a flote

Me caí ciento una vez al caminar

Y ciento dos veces me volví a parar

No voy a rendirme"

With extra time, I decided to hang out and stretch in an empty convention center. Observe the meditative space above . It straight up reminded me of an Arctic Monkeys TBHC era music video.

But when a big objective approaches time dissipates quickly. Around 7AM, I walked with my comrades to the bag check area and perform a few dynamic stretches before the gun went off.

The city air felt like we were invaded by a dense, suffocating cloud. 

"¡Necesitan que le bajen a la humedad, rápido!" Chaparro joked, twisting an imaginary stove knob.

“"Y sí," Guero replied, his eyes scanning the crowd. 

I could tell by the way my mates' eyes were wandering around that they were nervous. Not much comprehension between our dialogue was happening. I was trying to figure out where I could piss for the third time in the morning and figure out where I could locate a water as I felt my lips drying out from just standing there. 

We dropped off our bags, pissed, and walked to Corral A. 

And so, as I toed the line, I muttered to myself silently, "Sí puedo, sí puedo, sí puedo, sí puedo."

When the airhorn blasted, I eased into my pace, refusing to let the crowd sweep me along with them. Young Street opened up before me, and the views of the city were wrapped in a morning haze. We looped a mile around the edge of downtown before climbing up Oak Lawn for the first uphill section. The cheers were propelling. I found this section to be my most mindful and relaxing. The 3:15 group was around 15 seconds in front of me and I opposed to push the pace not knowing plot twists could rise up in the later miles. 

After the marathon and half marathon split, we descended down Gaston into the lake. The slope of the downhill was steeper than I expected and found myself creeping closer to the 3:15 pace group without trying. Around this point, I knew there were still four more small but steep hills waiting for me before the half marathon, so my plan was to continue to coast until then.

But surprise! 

As we ran up the first hill on W. Lawther Dr. I felt my cadence lower more than I anticipated. And then again after the next hill, then again, and then again. My legs in a matter of minutes felt like bricks. The fog over the lake was thick thick. As runners passed me and vanished into the lake's road, many more appeared after experiencing a similar feeling to what I had just felt. Among them was my comrade, El Guero, walking around mile 11. 

"¿Qué te pasó, Guero?!" I gasped as I ran past him, trying to keep my breathing.

"¡Agh! Me siento muy gacho. Me duele el pecho," he muttered, defeated, as I sluggishly ran past him.

By the time I got to mile 13, the pace decrease was unmistakable. 

 

Mile 16 held a significance all on it's own.  Family resides in the marrow of moments for me and in the 12 years I've been running, there has never been a race where I had several of my loved ones united for me. To see a mere 10-second fragment of my mom, sisters, and nephews' flailing their arms around and voices ringing through the fatiguing air for me was everything I needed. 

"¡Vamos, Erik!" "¡Go, Tío!"

Ah, the immensity of words from people you love.

And what perfect timing, because at this point, the physical was no longer enough; it was the mind that had to carry me forward. 

As we made our way out of the lake, and back to downtown, the devil of all hills awaited. The Gaston hill. The air, thick and humid, clung to me, and the world felt heavy. The eternal challenge was on. I pressed forward. Never looking down. 

As I was climbing up, I saw my comrade Alex holding out a water bottle for me. I unwrapped my salt pill from the aluminum paper, he ran next to me and was like, "¿Cómo te sientes?"

"Ya voy bien jodido." chugging down the salt pill. But as I passed the liquid down, I realized it had a carbonated sweet taste?

"¿Qué es?!" I gasped.

"¡Cafeína, para que le des más recio!" Alex replied as he took the water bottle back. 

"Ah chingao 😂"

"¡Dale! ¡Dale!" Alex screamed as he fainted back with the cheering crowds. 

As I reached the top of Gaston, a numbness settled in my quads. 

"I've been here before." I reassured myself. "You can go faster."

I grabbed two cups from the water station and poured them over my head, exhaling in relief. 

The last 10k -- downhill, but no less excruciating-- demanded the deepest perseverance. My legs no longer felt like the fluidity they had before, Each step felt like a monumental effort. I clung to the simplicity of mantras to detach from the physical feeling like a madman. 

The mind is the last to break, and so I told myself, again and again: 

"Mas, mas, mas, mas, mas, mas, mas, mas, mas. ¡Quiero más!" I demanded.

I distorted my reality, bending it into something I forced myself to accept:

"I'm not suffering. I'm not suffering. I'm not suffering," I thought, seeking safety in the repetition.

And then, the final verdict:
"I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it," I vowed to myself. 

And all I felt in that moment was the freedom that only comes from the tension between the self and the world being finally, mercifully resolved.

Posted on Reiger,  

El mil colores

I Dream of You

It's now standard to feel blasted by madness on a somber Sunday. 

I spent the remaining hours of the evening reading over an old book about huichols acquired from a dusty bookstore years ago. I gathered notes on some terminology they used that I hope to research, wrote a few personal sentences about today, and now I'm writing some more here. 

Before that I had the sudden urge to plan out a classification & clustering model while eating leftover Halloween candy. Didn't go too far besides the action plan. 

And if we rewind further back, this morning I concluded my last long run before the Dallas marathon. Perhaps the taper is messing with my neuronal activity. But the world feels consumable! 

All has been done. Every resource inside of me will be used to its full extent. I have no option but to exert myself with all my might. I have visualized what I will say to myself as I walk to the start line. I must not forget my own words. This is the first time in a very long time where I feel I have made progress in my self-confidence outside of running and I will do my best to channel that inside the race. My spirit feels calm. Like I'm talking to the sea on an airless night. 

Hydrate well, 

E.T. 

Primo

It's November and most days feel like a dim chandelier now that the sun clocks out pretty much the same time I do. I spent Saturday morning deep cleaning and in a battle of absurd proportions with a militia of tiny winged invaders known as gnats. Then pretty much buried my face in the evening reading poetry and experimenting with prompt engineering.

Training hums a long steadily. I've been circling the lake in utter darkness lately. Sometimes the only glimpse of life I get out there are the commuters near Buckner and Garland. The loneliness makes me a little apathetic in its initial phases, but I always find a way to solidify my purpose. 

Wednesday's menu was good. 

6 miles easy +

6 x 1km w/ 3 min. rest + 

3.5 miles easy. 

Averaged around 6:11/mi for the km repeats which I haven't been able to do with my achillles issues for more than a year, so I'll note that as a win!

This morning I had my final big marathon workout:

3 miles easy +

6 miles @ MP +

1 mile easy +

6 miles @ MP +

2 miles easy +

Only a few weeks left! 

Onwards forever, 

Erik

Dicen que cambié, pero sigo siendo yo

 The world is my idea. 

That's easy to remember on a stormy night after dinner, but the quotidian pursuits we must engage in... well, maybe I'm simply forgetful. 

Training has been going well. On Sunday I'll be up at the ass crack of dawn hitting the elusive Japanese drills before my half marathon. The forecast seems unfavorable, but as the Hagakure goes, any chance to choose between life and death as a samurai, choose death. And when you've been 100% defeated, you still have time for one more move to die with honor. That's how I'll be starting the morning. 

A few hours ago, I had a striking feeling occur to me as I grilled my chicken. There is a deep conflicting feeling in me that I am not working smart in the way the national environment I happen to habit in has been programming in us to work. Hence the above statement. There are days when I feel like I am synthesizing a knowledge architecture of my own that can help me alter the current state of the environment I live in for the better. New ideas in training, community, and living, to say a few, but there are days when I realize, yo... I'm .FUCKING. stupid wey lol. 

The other day, I mentioned to a colleague that I'm amazed at how fast people can deconstruct a problem and come up with solutions. I, on the other hand, sometimes feel like a crockpot, the rate at which I am "cooking" is so slow. It's like my brain goes too damn far, to the point where it's like, I'm way the fuck out here?! Perhaps a gift and a curse in this society. 

Another night learning to be myself.

Building the confidence to pursue what I find a meaningful life with my own traits, even when it clashes with societal expectations, is still a challenge for me though. 

There's no turning back now. 

Dime si soy o no soy, 

Father Karras Jr.

Myke Towers - Poder Adquisitivo

Have I Lived to See The Milk And Honey Land

 Just finished watching An American Crime on Netflix and I feel disgusted. A group of people turning a blind eye has to be up there in things that will leave me baffled. The conformity, moral disengagement, lack of empathy, and desensitization, tanto pinche cerebro y nada. While this was an extreme situation, I see it so often in the small understated scenarios life presents us with. Most days I feel Confucian, pragmatic, and optimistic, but when I see shit like this, I often think, am I not living enough to know what's really possible? I remember grappling with this feeling in my early 20s; it faded between 27 and 29, but now, at 30, I feel this frustration coming back. 

When I would bring these thoughts in my runs, I remember using mantras to channel this feeling. The looping sounded something like:

"I want to represent something good. I want to represent something good. I want to represent something good."

Each time with more fury and intensity in my inner voice. 

"Pinche, Erik. No estás sufriendo. No estás sufriendo. No estás sufriendo. No estás sufriendo. No estás sufriendo."

Do the right thing, 

E

Visions - Stevie Wonder

Los mares de la realidad

Last night I had, for the first time, a Moroccan dinner at a tiny spot in Dallas called Baboush. Picture the joint adorned with tear-drop lanterns with filigree detailing, mil colores like, sandy beiges, and burgundy reds, heavy draped curtains, and a gentleman in the corner riffing a mandolin so mystically. I couldn't help but feel like I was in an infinite loop in that part in Por Un Segundo when Santos says:

"Y ahora por un segundo me ahogo en los mares de la realidad,

Por un segundo acepto mi derrota, te perdí de verdad"

Sheesh! A dawg really fucked with the place!

Much love to those with the neurons to savor taste at a euphoric level. This feels like a first for me. How else can you experience the soothing melody which makes the soul waltz in jubilation, soften like twilight, and liberate itself like a drunken dance? 

Anyway, today, I spent the meat of the day trying to develop a thematic function for text data using LLM APIs. About 2 hours of work and ended up hitting a wall with the Google API. Grr. More on this topic later because I'm really set on figuring it out. 

Here's the training menu:

Sunday 

Marathon Workout

2 miles E + 8 miles @ MP + 1 mile E + 3 miles @ MP + 2 miles E

The workout felt much easier from a couple of weeks ago despite the humidity and increase in stimuli. Went out a little too hard on the 8 mile section so I think next time I'll have to make better efforts to control myself psychologically. Left achilles hurt a bit on the 3 mile section, but overall felt decent. 

Monday

AM: 6.8 miles E

PM: 3 miles E

Today we celebrated our labor efforts so no alarm was set this morning. Wanted to see how it felt like to wake up whenever my body decided to and have to say that it was the most refreshing feeling ever. Stepped out the door around 9:30AM and ran on the Santa Fe without a care for time. Evening run was equally enjoyable through my neighborhood hills. 

Tuesday

PM: 5 miles easy + 6 x 100m

Picked up my mom from the bus station pretty early so missed the morning. Afternoon run with El Guero in the rain. Legs felt really heavy so cut it short to be ready for tomorrow's workout. 

Wednesday

Threshold Workout

6 miles easy + 3 x (2 miles @ T w/ 2 min. rest) + 2 x (1 mile @ T w/ 1 min. rest) + 1 mile easy

Thursday

E

Friday

AM: 6

PM: 3.3

Saturday

6 easy + 6 x 100m 

Speak soon, 

E.T.

Standing with the fury that they had in '66

The hourglass for the marathon was flipped this week. Sand stops for no one, so avoid keeping your eyes on it. 

If I had to choose a singlet design for race day, it would be inspired from something like this: 

And from this!

Anyway, 

Week 18-till began with brutality:

Sunday:
1 mile easy + 6 miles @ marathon pace + 1 mile easy + 5 x 2km with 2/min. rest + 1.5 mile easy. 

Total: 16 miles. 

First marathon workout of a 3-week cycle accompanied by El Chaparro & El Guero. To have people just excited for an ass-beating like you is a privilege. Lost contact with Guero around mile 5 of the workout so from there to the finish was solo effort. Properly fueled this time so I didn't crash like the week prior. Thankful for the cloudy weather. Overall felt good!

Monday:

AM: Easy 5

Legs were so sore. Through the Lakewood hills with Abigail.

PM: Strength workout

Tuesday:

7 miles + strides 

More Lakewood hills with Abigail.

Wednesday

AM: 5 miles

Dark humid morning. Abigail joined me on the latter part of the run. 

PM: 2 miles easy + 4 x 1 mile w/ 1 min. rest. + 1 mile easy

First time doing a workout with morning miles under the engine. Wasn't sure what to expect, but did notice legs were completely dead at the warm-up. Surprisingly, once I got the workout started it was just a matter of controlling the threshold effort to the finish. Originally planned for 5 x 1 mile, but had to cut it do 4 =(

Thursday

Rest

Friday

AM: 5.5 miles

Hilly route. 

PM: 3 miles + strides

Saturday

5 miles

Swangin', 

El Mil Colores

Thunder! lightning! enmascarao' te dejamo' en parking

 Good God! My quads are diminished today. Merely walking from my bedroom to the kitchen and onto my bar stool was unnecessarily difficult. Sitting here, my stomach is begging for lunch already, and from the looks of it, I may have to make a run to the grocer's. Yikes.

 About a week ago I phoned El Guero to discuss workout plans for Sunday (today) and the consensus was to introduce longer reps at marathon pace every 3 weeks, and thus, today's allocation was 14 miles with 6km @ marathon pace, 1km recovery and 5km @ marathon pace inside the distance.  

Not bad given that I was hovering around 10-12 miles on Sundays!

Starting on the 11th of August, I'll begin my official preparations for the marathon. Summer humidity is proving to be a significant opponent on top of the required training, so I'll be assessing quality week-by-week. 

Closing the laptop for now. Might hop back on for some playful Sunday data analytics. Or not. Today is one of the rare days where I have the chance to sit and watch some k-drama, so I may make bigger efforts to catch up on It's Okay to Not Be Okay. 

Been sturdy, 

E

Far From The Boldest // Hope You Don't Notice

Some Chicago rap
MFnMelo - Notice

The start of Day 2 began rather late. After falling sick a few weeks ago, and what I suspect might have been covid, my slumbers have strayed far from the norm. Brain activity doesn't seem to decline until 2-3AM and that night was no different. Not to mention, running in general lately feels like I'm running on 10/100 health points, despite the low intensity. So while I had the full intention of exploring the city further through a brisk promenade at an early morning, I sadly missed all 4 of my alarms.

With 20 weeks left until the marathon, my urgency to exceed expectations is low right now. 

Landing in a new geography offers the opportunity to lurk through literary rubble, an adventure made all the more enchanting by the company of my equally enthused sisters. We arrived at Damen station -possibly one of the most charming train stations I've ever encountered - and there, we arrived to this quaint bookstore. 

Adelante!

Books acquired:

Zadie Smith - Intimations

Alfredo Echenique - Guía triste de Paris

Maya Angelou - Wouldn't Take Nothing For My Journey Now

Asa Barber - Tranquility Base and other stories

 

Ramen during a thunderstorm was brilliantly suggested by my younger sister. What you see here is a bowl with a volume surely to put you in a food coma if you don't adequately measure yourself throughout the day. Fuck it!

Ha det,

Mil Colores

Haunting Mass Appeal

Took a trip up to Chicago with 2 ladies that happen to understand my absurdist humor the average Joe might find unusual or ridiculous. My sisters. 

Incubus - Drive

Aging seems to be creating distance from what we call home, and I can't help but rebel. I'm now 30. At the start of this blog, I was 19. My older sister was 22 (now 33) and my younger sister was 14 (now 25).  If you know me, you'll note the weight of importance I place on understanding my family at every phase of their life. Being in Chiraq with my sisters afforded me the opportunity to do precisely that.

The first day could not have unfolded any better for us. We landed in Chicago around 3ish, settled into our lodgings, and proceeded to embark upon the blue line, traveling eastward towards the pier. The afternoon was filled with character. Check the photos:

From the pier, we decided to take a boat taxi to Michigan Avenue for further perambulations and lurk for sweet post-dinner cravings. 

Every moment of this day was superb. The sight of my sisters laughing and reveling in the simple things this city had to offer is a memory I'll cherish forever. 

I love chocolate milkshakes, 

E.T.

Rosa Pastel

Ran for the first time since last Friday this afternoon. 

On Saturday morning, I was greeted by potent body aches I'd never experienced before. If I have, I can't presently recall them. Approximately 18 hours were spent rotting in bed, battling mucus from leaving my nostrils, and realizing how ungrateful I'd been for living a mostly healthy life so far. 

It's now Tuesday, and I surmise my average rate of recovery to be 20% per day. How'd I get that percentage? When you look at datasets often, one develops an intuitive sense for such matters. 

After assessing today's run, I don't think I'll do a workout tomorrow or Thursday, so I think I'll stick to easy runs until Sunday, but that could change. 

Sippin' on NyQuil with pinky down, 

ET

Me Meti En El Ruedo

Algo machín hoy.

Understanding training has been interesting to me before I even knew statistical software existed. The first time I ever input training data was with a V5 pen inside a composition notebook. 

Consider something I've been thinking through:

We are a blob of networks. 

Our self-efficacy, self-talk, nutrition, childhood interactions, parents, friends, taste in art, autobiographical memory biases, choice of music for the day, all of these relationships are constantly strengthening and influencing each other, and thus form a network within our selves. I then started to wonder, what would a network structure for an athlete look like? How does this network architecture of relationships change over time?

Achis? Y eso como, cabron?

Below is a completely fake and simple model built in R based off of variables like fatigue, confidence, stress, total quality distance ran, average pace, etc.

Let's say this is the network architecture modeled from 6 weeks (42 days) of training data. 

From an analyst perspective, understanding how these variables interact over time to understand my athletic performance from a holistic view could help me address issues and improve my performance. 

Since the above example is based off completely random mathematics, I will try to explain the parts that would make sense.

Node Centrality (Influencers)
In a network, I'm interesting in understanding what variable (node) is the most important/influential. Here, nodes like confidence, total quality distance, pain, nutrition, and sleep quality seem to be the most central nodes, which in theory would let me understand that these variables are critical to my overall structure. Which variables are they influencing? Is it good or bad? Is it strong or weak? Are these nodes resilient?

Edge Weights

Understanding the strength of the influence is another thing. Edge weights in a network represent the intensity or significance of the relationship between connected nodes. Thicker edges typically indicate stronger relationships, while thinner edges represent weaker connections. 

Peripheral Nodes 
Now, observe the weak relationship and isolation of the social support node. Theoretically, a lack of social support has a number of negative implications to an individual not only in athleticism, but in life in general, and would call for an intervention. 

Well, how do we improve a person's social support?

How would the overall network architecture change? 

Anyway, 

That's kinda what I'm thinking about lately. 

En una troca vieja, 

El de las Chanclas Deportivas

The One Dream in Your Life That Matters More

It seems like this week's gloomy weather has been offering us tints of dark blue and bright green. How can you not step outside and savor the petrichor?

A song for when you walk in cool disguise

Monday:

1 hour easy + 10 x 100m strides

Rainy afternoon. Did 3 miles on the treadmill playing with elevation. Then 10 x 100 playing with elevation as well.

Tuesday:

AM: 2E + 5 x (200m + 200m + 400m w/ equal recovery jog between reps) + 2 E

PM: Strength session

AM* Woke up a little later than usual. Was greeted by rain on my first rep & continued on the whole session. 

Set 1: 39.6, 39.4, 1:22

Set 2: 39.6, 41.1, 1:26

Set 3: 41.5, 43.5, 1:32

Set 4: 45.7, 46.3, 1:32

Set 5: 41.1, 42.5, 1:21

PM* Gym session after work. 25 minutes on the bike then:
3 x 10 hip dips

3 x 10 single leg glute bridges with 20lb ball

3 x 8 split squats w/ 20lb ball

4 x 20 calf raises 

3 x 10 chest flies w/ 50lbs

3 x 10 lateral deltoid raises w/ 40lbs

3 x 10 bicep curls w/ 30 lbs

Wednesday:

1:30-1:40 easy + 8 x 100m strides

Thursday

Rest

Friday

2E + 4 x 1 mile w/ 1 minutes rest + 2E

Decided to do these on the treadmill for more control. Splits were 6:32, 6:31, 6:31, 6:29

Added 4 x 200s all at 40 seconds with equal recovery.

Saturday

45 minutes easy + 8 x 60m uphill sprints

Sunday

1 mile easy + 9 miles @ marathon pace + 6 x 100m

Humidity was insane this morning. H

 take a water break around the 5 mile mark. Legs felt a little heavy towards the end but aerobically capable. 

Splits: 6:58, 6:41, 6:49, 7:03, 6:59, 7:00, 7:15, 7:28, 7:26, 

Mi brillo aquí y una chispa allá

Sippin' on some moringa tea right now to conclude the day. Forecasts seem to indicate a thunderstorm tomorrow, so I might have to move the session until after work. 

This song will be my inspo for data analysis all week:

Excelsa

Here's the training menu. 

Monday

 6 miles + 10 x 100m strides

The morning humidity was suffocating. Ran with El Guero & El Chaparro --mostly discussing what it means to be self. Achilles pain wasn't as bad during the strides. 

Tuesday

AM: 2 miles + 4 x 400m w/ 400m jog + 1 easy + 4 x 400m w/ 400m jog + 2 miles

PM: strength training

Workout at the lake in the afternoon. Splits were 1:23, 1:33, 1:20, 1:25, 1:27, 1:23, 1:21, 1:22

After the 400s I decided to add 4 x 60m uphill sprints for speed development

Wednesday

9-10 miles + 8 x 100m strides
3 miles in the morning. 6 in the afternoon + 6 strides. Achilles pain some what more intense today.

Thursday

5-6 miles

*Rest

Friday

AM: 2 miles + 4 x 200m w/ 200m recovery + 3 mile tempo + 4 x 200m w/200m recovery + 2 miles

PM: Strength training

*Switching Friday & Saturday 

Went out for an easy 4 miles with strides on the soccer field. Felt surprisingly great! 

Saturday

2 miles + 4 x 200m w/ 200m recovery + 3 mile tempo + 4 x 200m w/200m recovery + 2 miles

Felt like shit. Likely from the round delight we call pizza I consumed the night before. Legs died after the first set of 200s and tempo was basically a nightmare. 

200s: 39.6, 38.6, 39.1, 37.6
Tempo: 6:35, 7:11. 7:21 *Note: done on an extremely hilly route

200s: 40.4, 42.6, 38.2, 40.0

Sunday

12 miles

Cloudy day with the Aztecs. Achilles wasn't as bad from yesterday, but a little painful. 

10:04 PM. Just in time, 

Tristan

Goes and it goes and it goes

Good morning from East Dallas. 

It's currently 9:57AM and the temporary threshold shift from yesterday's concert has me typing in silence to start off the day. 

I'm hoping the energy from this concerts lasts me until tomorrow's race because these England blokes knew how to orchestrate the crowd's feelings. 

Let me explain.

The set started off with two tracks: IDEA 01 & Colossus.

Putting these two tracks together was like creating a thunderstorm. The eerie bass drum and piano sprinkles in IDEA 01 reminded me of taking small sips of C4 under a cloud build-up. Almost meditative and preparatory. The transition into Colossus was like the growing itch in your face from beta-alanine and feeling the droplets touch your skin. The rim shots, grimy whole note bass, assertive vocals against toxic masculinity, desperate guitar riffs, and eventually the full use of the drum set. It was a roaring downpour.

Experiencing this made realize something:

Outward aggressiveness has never come naturally to me. My approach to a goal or problem, especially with running, has usually been done with the spirit of Carl Rogers in my chest. I am aggressive in my preparation, but sometimes I feel like I am missing that explosiveness in my performance. In fact, 10 years ago, when I started this blog and competed frequently, I remember coming across this exact problem, so I would  have to journal the night before races, writing phrases that would put me in a headspace ready to "die an honorable death." Sometimes it would work; sometimes it wouldn’t. Hell, even some of the posts before my marathon were written in a Mishima-esque style.

After hearing IDLES perform live, it brought back feelings of always wanting to run the way they sounded. 

Lately, I've been approaching life with a strong sense of self. While I'm aware that the self is constantly changing, I'm confident that I can use what I have now to engineer my experiences into a unique form of self that is true to me. 

Anyway, perhaps that's the level of force I want to take from yesterday. G2G to the restroom from all the water I've been taking for tomorrow!

生々流転,

千の色

Eres

My staycation from work started on Saturday with a rare family gathering. Remember when I talked about the soda pop sentimiento? Behold, a photographic marvel. Plotted across this tableu is my dad, mom, sister, and brother-in-law sipping on a few beers, and me? a coca-cola. 

1 hour before this shot was taken, we diligently worked on the foundation bed with the aerator and auger.

5 hours before that, I awkwardly introduced myself to a gal I found admirable while out for an easy 9-miler. Something never attempted in my existence. The interaction filled the air with hilarity and seemed fitting for another Café Tacuba song —or perhaps a Ogden Nash poem. Additionally, I fought the naco urge to say: 

"Y que? Tienes un vato o que?!"

Kidding. I would never. 

Sunday was marked by an easy 10.5-mile jog with the Mexicas, followed by a lax 4 miles at the lake on Monday, accompanied by some light reading on Canova.

And then on Tuesday, after a night of sweating and shivering (food poisoning?), I began my morning to this workout:

2 miles easy

4 x 200m with 200m recovery jog

    41.6, 41.5 40.3, 40.3

4 x 400m with 400m recovery jog

    1:25, 1:22, 1:23, 1:21

2 x 200m with 200m recovery jog

    37.5, 38.3

1 mile easy

And now, the Ennis Polkafest 5k this Saturday.

Go all the way,

Erik

Me Pongo Belikon

A few months ago, for my chamba, I was asked to take a strengths assessment developed by the grandfather of positive psychology, Don Clifton. The assessment is designed to rank your top strengths out of 34 possible strengths, helping you understand what you naturally do best. Now, my first thought was, ¿qué son estas Sorting Hat mamadas? But after going one-on-one with the assessment and getting the results, my psychometric brain was like... oh shit! Feels like something off of the jujutsu kaisen world.   

Listos? Ponganse pilas

Observe my formidable quintet along with a screenshot of the full findings.

1. Learner

2. Empathy

3. Intellection

4. Individualization

5. Connectedness

Nombre… la mera neta, I feel like I just discovered glasses with convex lenses for hyperopia. 

In a technological contemporary society, screens tell you what your strengths should be. Not the other way around. Ponder that and never ever doubt yourself again. 

Desde Morro

If you were to visit my childhood home today, you'd find along the living room window a stack of my mom's collection of interior design magazines like Architectural Digest, House & Garden, Dallas Style & Design, and many more. When I was a kid in the 2000s, I remember seeing my mom in our lemon yellow-kitchen in the evenings looking through those magazines, collecting and placing Home Deport color cards next to each other, and asking my sisters and me, "¿Cuáles colores se miran mejor juntos?"

As my mom built the aesthetic nature of our house and developed an obsession with interior design, I realize now I was learning what process looked like.

The collection

The resourcefulness

The playfulness

The family influence

The patience

The execution 

Growing up, I knew I always wanted to represent my family in this form of ambitious learning. 

Asa youngsta' from the ages of 12-16 this meant: 

Learning music

    Studying DJs like N-Verse, Ralphy Ralph, Moreno, & Panik

    Software like FL Studio & Sony Acid Pro

Learning dance  

    Breakin' 2, Tutting, B-Boying, Choreo Cookies & Mr. Wiggles

For what purpose?

To understand my taste. 

Because that's how you unconsciously learn to eventually invent something new away from that learning environment. Do you see the cycle?

Anyway,

Each day only gets more cutting-edge for you, 

E.T