It is official: Pluto is no longer a planet. I've been following this discussion to some degree over the past week. The best alternative resolution I heard was from Michael Brown, who discovered UB313 (a larger piece of ice out past Pluto), in an NPR Science Friday podcast. He interestingly compares this whole "what is a planet" debate to what we call continents. There really is no scientifically "pure" definition of a continent. Why is Europe a continent but India not? Why is Greenland not its own continent? It is somewhat arbitrary and based on culture.
But science doesn't like arbitrary things. Brown suggests we accept the cultural definition of the 9 planets and leave it at that. The term planet means "wanderer" and ancient astronomers called them that because their paths differed from the rest of the stars. Now they have to be round and have their own paths around the Earth or something like that.
I guess the decision makes sense and stops the squabbling over whether other small objects should be planets. Now everyone can now move on. Even Pluto. Just because it is not a planet, doesn't mean it no longer orbits the Sun.
The Planet Pluto, may you rest in peace (1930-2006).
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Sunday, August 20, 2006
10 miles of sand
I recently completed the Captain Bill Gallagher Island Run, a 10 mile run on the beach in Sea Isle City, NJ.
I am not much of a runner. I've toyed with running in the past here and there, but this was the first year I really tried to keep at it. I started in late Spring purely for exercise but when I saw this beach run coincided with my family's vacation, I figured I'd go for it.
My expectations were not high. For this run, my first official run, I had three goals:
As I said, I never ran in an "official" race before...
When we cross the bridge into Sea Isle, I go to pick up the number. The piece of paper has my number, 538, and some info on the bottom with a perforation in between. On the bottom of the paper, it says "do not pin." Well, how am I supposed to attach this to me? My wife and I discuss it some.
Me: Hmm..that's odd. How do you think I get it to stay on me?
Wife: I don't know. Maybe you can use some string.
Me: I'm just going to pin it.
Wife: You can't do that! It says "do not pin" That's breaking the rules.
Fortunately my wife has some string (she is teaching our daughters to make those friendship bracelets) and ties the number onto my shirt somehow. Of course, as I walk up to the start of the race, everyone has it pinned to their shirts. Duh. You are not supposed to pin the perforated part - the part I later realize they tear off at the end of the race. Ok, I am an amatuer, and not too bright of one at that.
The run actually starts on Sea Isle's boardwalk, which is not very wide. So the 1200 people in the race fill up a block and a half. I go towards the end.
The race starts. Well, it starts for some. It takes a while for the mob to move forward. And then when it finally does, it moves slowly. Very slowly. Finally, probably a minute or more into it, we pick up our pace.
About one mile into it I hear "Go Ed!" I think to myself, "Must be some guy named Ed near me." But then I see it is my wife's uncle and his family. I instinctly raise my hand to say hello and almost smack the person beside me.
For the first 6 miles or so, I am running about a 10 1/2 minute mile. I feel pretty good. The race starts in the middle, heads north on the the island, all the way back down to the southern end and then back to the middle. As I approach the mid way point, mile 5, I hear the winner is approaching the finish.
I still feel pretty good. Until somewhere after mile 6. Then it hits me. My legs feel like jelly and I move very slooowww the rest of the way. Running on the beach really is not that much harder than running on asphalt. But running on the beach behind 1000 other people who trample through the sand and leave it a choppy, muddy mess is hard. At least for me. At this point, many others start to pass me. It gets demoralizing. A small boy no older than 12 passes me. A group of 3 women chatting away trot by. An elderly gray-haired gentleman leaves me in his dust. At one point, I think a heavy set woman with one leg carrying a bag of cement might have passed me. I'm not sure.
My own kids, as well as a (large) number of nieces and nephews cheer me on at around 7 1/2 miles (and again a little past 7 1/2 - we are at the end of the island). Although I feel horrible, my wife later says I looked good, just slow. Very slow. But it is great to see the kids and pass out high fives as they cheer "Go Uncle Ed!"
But I finished. And I met my three goals (the bonus goal alluded me by 15 seconds/mile, but that is ok).
Here are the complete results of the race. You'll see me towards the end. I came in 1144 out of 1207 finishers and 77 out of 80 in my age group. But I ran 10 miles. In the sand.
I am not much of a runner. I've toyed with running in the past here and there, but this was the first year I really tried to keep at it. I started in late Spring purely for exercise but when I saw this beach run coincided with my family's vacation, I figured I'd go for it.
My expectations were not high. For this run, my first official run, I had three goals:
- Finish
- Don't stop (keep running...)
- Finish under 2 hours
As I said, I never ran in an "official" race before...
When we cross the bridge into Sea Isle, I go to pick up the number. The piece of paper has my number, 538, and some info on the bottom with a perforation in between. On the bottom of the paper, it says "do not pin." Well, how am I supposed to attach this to me? My wife and I discuss it some.
Me: Hmm..that's odd. How do you think I get it to stay on me?
Wife: I don't know. Maybe you can use some string.
Me: I'm just going to pin it.
Wife: You can't do that! It says "do not pin" That's breaking the rules.
Fortunately my wife has some string (she is teaching our daughters to make those friendship bracelets) and ties the number onto my shirt somehow. Of course, as I walk up to the start of the race, everyone has it pinned to their shirts. Duh. You are not supposed to pin the perforated part - the part I later realize they tear off at the end of the race. Ok, I am an amatuer, and not too bright of one at that.
The run actually starts on Sea Isle's boardwalk, which is not very wide. So the 1200 people in the race fill up a block and a half. I go towards the end.
The race starts. Well, it starts for some. It takes a while for the mob to move forward. And then when it finally does, it moves slowly. Very slowly. Finally, probably a minute or more into it, we pick up our pace.
About one mile into it I hear "Go Ed!" I think to myself, "Must be some guy named Ed near me." But then I see it is my wife's uncle and his family. I instinctly raise my hand to say hello and almost smack the person beside me.
For the first 6 miles or so, I am running about a 10 1/2 minute mile. I feel pretty good. The race starts in the middle, heads north on the the island, all the way back down to the southern end and then back to the middle. As I approach the mid way point, mile 5, I hear the winner is approaching the finish.
I still feel pretty good. Until somewhere after mile 6. Then it hits me. My legs feel like jelly and I move very slooowww the rest of the way. Running on the beach really is not that much harder than running on asphalt. But running on the beach behind 1000 other people who trample through the sand and leave it a choppy, muddy mess is hard. At least for me. At this point, many others start to pass me. It gets demoralizing. A small boy no older than 12 passes me. A group of 3 women chatting away trot by. An elderly gray-haired gentleman leaves me in his dust. At one point, I think a heavy set woman with one leg carrying a bag of cement might have passed me. I'm not sure.
My own kids, as well as a (large) number of nieces and nephews cheer me on at around 7 1/2 miles (and again a little past 7 1/2 - we are at the end of the island). Although I feel horrible, my wife later says I looked good, just slow. Very slow. But it is great to see the kids and pass out high fives as they cheer "Go Uncle Ed!"
But I finished. And I met my three goals (the bonus goal alluded me by 15 seconds/mile, but that is ok).
Here are the complete results of the race. You'll see me towards the end. I came in 1144 out of 1207 finishers and 77 out of 80 in my age group. But I ran 10 miles. In the sand.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)