The newest thing I've learned: how to do rollovers. Point your mouse to those
airplanes at the top of this page. Cool, huh? I do need to edit the artwork a
little further, though.
A while ago, I came up with the idea that
Rudder and I should use the crossed-oars-and-prop symbol as our logo. After all,
monograms are difficult when you have different last names, and this is more
descriptive anyway. Whenever we get to design and build our dream house, I'd like
to have that design painted on the mail box and done in stained glass over the
front door. What you see here is the initial public debut of the symbol. Those oar
blades, with the Arizona flag painted on them, are the very ones with which I
rowed 10683 meters this morning. (Well, the ones pictured are probably Rudder's,
since I snagged the image out of a photo of him and T2, but the three of us all
have the same blade design. Close enough.)
And speaking of those 10
km I rowed, here's something I don't understand. I was in a single. There were
also three eights, a four, and a double out this morning. (Rudder is in Europe on
business and T2 stopped because his knees were having problems, so they don't
figure into this.) Boats with more people in them have much more power; thus, an
eight should be way faster than a single. (Presuming equal strength and skills. I
saw T2 zoom right past an eight just two days ago.) And yet none of those boats
passed me in two laps around the lake. We all started at different times, but I'd
expect the eights, at least, to be able to lap me. It's certainly not because I'm
fast; I have a little Speedcoach, much like a bike computer, that tells me
otherwise. It may just be that in a single, there's no need to stop and wait for
anyone else; I stop for a swig of water than get back to it, without having to
have a coach catch up or wait for other people to be ready. I don't know. All I
know is, whatever all those other people, it can't be rowing hard the whole time.