But seriously...why run?

Today I'm suffering from post-race pains. I feel sort of like my legs are made of extremely painful jello...or since we're in Russia, kholodets (meat jello, it tastes exactly as good as it sounds). What, you ask, caused this great pain to come about? For the past few months I've been dealing with minor foot injuries, and haven't been able to consistently train. Two weeks ago, I decided that two weeks is plenty of time to prep for a half marathon, and signed up for the Весенний Гром (Spring Thunder). After all, it's only half of a marathon, how bad could it be?

This must be one of those cases of temporary insanity, because no matter how you count it, 21.something kilometers didn't feel like half of anything. In fact, it felt like a whole lot of something. The race started out like most, and I ran out like I was doing a 5k, but around 8k I realized that something was horribly wrong. Like a ton of neatly stacked, well placed bricks, I hit it...THE WALL. The wall is a mental and physical realization that you are, in fact, a moron. It's your body's way of telling you, "Oh, you think you're in great shape huh? Wehehell, I've got some bad news for you tubby, you still have 13k to go." At this realization, I significantly slowed my pace just hoping to finish the race.

This general feeling of wishing death upon the past version of myself that signed up for the race (and actually PAID for this!) continued for quite some time. Luckily, I guess, 21k is a long time, and it gives you the time to have many ups and downs during the race. That's an hour+ time for thinking, and re-thinking. When I had about 4k to go I was finally able to convince myself to run faster, and try to catch some of the guys who had passed me in my pitiful state. I ended up taking 9th place, and feeling pretty crumby about my time, but it all goes into the large, overstuffed folder in my brain of 'lessons learned the hard way.' I know now that I need to prepare for half marathons a bit more than I do for 5ks. A lesson that should really be simple, but for the overconfident Bryce, nothing in life comes easy.

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...Emerson

Last week consisted of me running all over Moscow, and hence, constantly riding the metro. The Moscow metro is a terrible place to spend one's days - the grime of millions of zombie-people has been building up for decades. The instant you step into the tunnels you stop being human. All of your senses are overwhelmed, so you simply turn them off. Too much motion is confusing, so you stop looking in people's eyes, and when you accidentally catch someone's passing glance, a strange sense of shame fills both parties. The beasts of the underbelly of this enormous city roar through their tunnels, screeching as they go. To drown the creaking and screaming of the wagons, you listen to music, podcasts, or just wear the headphones to block out sound.

Anyway, to survive travelling on the metro, I have to do something that takes my attention away from it. For the past two months I've been reading War and Peace, and on Thursday night, while an oh-so-Moscow rainstorm drenched the above world, I was hurtling through the underground as I finished the novel. There was more than one time in my reading of the book that I just wanted to turn to the person next to me and say something like, 'I can't believe it, ____ is dead!' 

I especially loved the reoccurring theme of finding regeneration, or re-finding meaning in life. Here's one of my favorite parts of the book:

...он ничего не видал. Над ним не было ничего уже, кроме неба, — высокого неба, не ясного, но все-таки неизмеримо высокого, с тихо ползущими по нем серыми облаками. «Как тихо, спокойно и торжественно, совсем не так, как я бежал, — подумал князь Андрей, — не так, как мы бежали, кричали и дрались; совсем не так, как с озлобленными и испуганными лицами тащили друг у друга банник француз и артиллерист, — совсем не так ползут облака по этому высокому бесконечному небу. Как же я не видал прежде этого высокого неба? И как я счастлив, что узнал его наконец. Да! все пустое, все обман, кроме этого бесконечного неба. Ничего, ничего нет, кроме его. Но и того даже нет, ничего нет, кроме тишины, успокоения. И слава Богу!..» (if you don't speak Russian, this is from book 1, part 3, chapter 16, the last few paragraphs).

Isn't that just so incredibly beautiful? I couldn't stop thinking of this theme on my latest trip to the countryside of Russia. Last year I made this same trip with my rock-climbing friends to Dernovo, a tiny town a few hundred km south of Moscow. Picture rolling fields of soft grass blowing in the warm spring wind backed by a bubbling brook, and of course, cliffs! Got the image? Great, now let's see how accurate your imagination is compared with the real thing.

 The running here was absolutely fantastic. Kilometers and kilometers of soft green grass covering rolling hills is just amazing to run on. I've never found another place where I can run so far barefoot.

 The trip was meant to be a rock climbing trip, so I got some of that in as well. I'm really in terrible shape for climbing right now, but the only other two guys on the trip are rock climbing instructors, and they really pushed me to do better than I have in a long time. They kept telling me to take a step into the unknown, and just trust that there will be something to grab once I get there. These two photos are at the top of a climb that I was sure I wouldn't be able to do at all, but ended up climbing it on-site (on-site is climbing it the first time without having seen it done before, and without falling).

The trip to Dernovo acted as sort of a reset button for me last year, and this year didn't upset. The camping, running, and climbing were all just so great to get me excited about life again. I know this sounds super corny, but I really can't get over how many beautiful things there are in life. So many wonderful books to read, hills to run, cliffs to climb, and unknowns to be stepped into.

Almost Famous

Here's a fun little article about me from the newspaper Moscow News. They just ask me about how I ended up in Moscow, and what my impressions of the city are. The photo's sort of scary, but they can only use photoshop so much.


Sorry if you don't speak Russian. Just imagine my always clever banter, and you'll get the gist of it.

...
The old link stopped working, so as promised, here's the article on the site: http://www.mn.ru/society_edu/20130408/342770642.html

The Less-Than-Perfect Approach to Curing Headaches

There are several sounds that just send a chill down my spine and draw out every bit of hatred stored up inside my very being-my alarm happens to be one of those sounds. This morning's alarm elicited a bit more hatred than usual, waking up with a headache helps you reach down inside and learn more about what you're capable of. In this case, I was much more capable of hating than I ever dreamed possible.

It seems that everyone has their own cure for the headache, whether it's massaging some mystical pressure point, hair of the dog solution (fun fact, there's a verb in Russian for that: опохмелиться), or simply taking an advil. Those might work for you, but I took a different approach...fill that throbbing head with as much as possible; econometrics, museum, and opera marathon to be specific. Let's not talk about econometrics now though, I think everyone can agree on that. I think if we just pretend like we talked about it we'll all leave happier.

So yeah, after that I went to the Tretyakov Gallery to soak in that oh-so-Russian bit of culture. Last year around this time I visited this gallery, and one painting called the Thaw really spoke to me. It is sort of a grim, dirty, in your face look at the change from winter to spring here, and I wasn't super positive about things at the time I guess.

Well, this year on my return I walked into the display room for the Thaw, and to my surprise the painting has since become silent. I still remember why it made sense, but that's part of the mystery and beauty of great art I guess. It can speak to you at different times, or remain silent. This time around I really loved the painting Странник (The Pilgrim) by Perov. You can read into that as much or as little as you want.

When I saw the painting of Tolstoy I got a little giddy. It was then that I realized that I'm a bit of a nerd, and not in a good way. Still, I had to get a picture with the old guy.

See how those eyes just pierce your very soul, begging you to question everything you think you know about life, love, and god? Tolstoy's eyes are pretty striking too.

Next on the agenda was the marathon opera-Strauss' Der Rosenkavelier. It was a 4 hour presentation, and we opted for the student seats, which are extremely uncomfortable. In fact...

...they were so uncomfortable the ticket itself says неудобное место (inconvenient seat) right on it, just so you don't get any false hopes. My brief, and humble opinion of the opera is such: rough at first with the singers really struggling, but really picked up to an incredible, albeit very strange third act. By this time, my head was not alone in bodyparts that were suffering; my back, legs, and neck were burning, but I sojourned as a soldier of culture! Also, my friends peer pressured me into staying. My pain was not unrewarded though, because the finale of the opera was magnificent, and I came home with the sweet taste of opera in my mouth (actually, it was the sweet taste of mickey d's, cause I had it my way home, MC World!).

Note: any reference to enjoying McDonalds is purely satirical, and should not be taken seriously.
Note 2: Late night fast food could very well be the cause of headaches like this.

'(Russia) is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an inigma' -Winston Churchill

I may have said this before, but one of my professors here has lived all over the world, and when people ask him why he came back to live in Moscow he just says that it's because it's a funny place. Just when I think I start to understand this city, it throws me some curveballs. Today I had the absolutely most banal errands to run, but they ended up being one tiny surprise after another...

The first surprise was when I woke up and it was sunny (it's been such a long winter). Then nothing happened for a while...but then I randomly ran into my friend Olya in a totally random corner of Moscow. It's crazy, but we run into each other all the time, and it would creep me out if it wasn't such a pleasant surprise. In a city of 15 million people, we see each other all over the place.

Next I went to the post-office, saw the line of 5 people and was overjoyed, a Russian post-office that's not overcrowded? A miracle. After 45 minutes of waiting though, the line didn't move at all. Just when I was about to abandon hope, it turned out everyone else was in the wrong line except me. Do you realize what that means?! I, an American, finally figured out the bureaucracy better than even the Russians! Plus, the normally frightening middle-aged woman at the counter was super nice. 

Finally I went to the store to pick up some dinner and found some odd products. 

For some reason there are a bunch of Ice Age products in Russia - what does Ice Age have to do with chips? I think Russians just really identify with the characters in the movie, apparently particularly the rabid squirrel.

My friend Yulia tricked me into getting this one. She promised it was just a health bar for kids. It looked innocent enough, sort of chocolatey. After I tried it she mentioned that it's made out of blood! How creepy is that? Especially with the scary child on the wrapper...cheeks are not naturally that rosy. I really feel like there are just so many jokes for this one...please just take a moment to think about them, and let your imagination take you there.

'All I want in life is a lowrider and a good woman' -anonymous schoolmate, 1996

Today is Women's day, and you know what that means - that's right, tons of women drunk on love...and alcohol, mostly alcohol. Make no mistake, this is a big deal here. Yesterday the stores were packed with men frantically looking for some token to show their special lady just how much she means to him. 

Needless to say, the chocolate isle at the store was completely barren. This poor fellow's left with the mere scraps of the metaphorical, chocolate carcass... already picked clean. Moscow's a wild city folks.

I did a little research to understand just how passionate Russians are about women, and it turns out that on the whole, women in Russia are worth about 7 billion dollars in gifts today. That number is likely to go down significantly tomorrow, but today Russian women are king...or rather, queen.

Here's a little something for all the women out there. Happy March 8th!

Russia vs. Adam Smith, Karl Marx, and Thomas Paine

'All that glitters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life has sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold'

What is value? It's clearly not from the usefulness of an item, otherwise water would be much more expensive than diamonds. Karl Marx claimed that value stemmed from the 'only thing common' to all commodities-the labor that goes into producing them. Adam Smith claimed that value stemmed from whatever people demanded of that commodity (scarcity). The latter theory is currently winning in most economist's minds as the more likely source of value. Yet, here in Moscow, there are price discrepancies that seem to defy either of those claims.

Diary of a Madman...a different madman. this one's about Gogol.

On Saturday I went to my first Russian play (I've been to a few in Ukraine), appropriately it was written by Gogol (a Ukrainian). If you've never read anything of Gogol, you really ought to. His stuff is very bizarre, but in an absolutely delightful way. The story of the play is that of the slow descent into madness of a low ranking official in St. Petersburg after he falls for a girl who barely knows he exists. The only way he is able to find greatness in life is through his delusional fantasies of becoming the king of Spain. I certainly can't relate to that even a little bit (quiet Drinky, you'll spoil everything! (that was an inside joke, if you're lucky, someday I'll let you in on it).

The television, that insidious beast, that Medusa which freezes a billion people to stone every night, staring fixedly, that Siren which called and sang and promised so much and gave, after all, so little. -Ray Bradbury

I was raised by two loving parents and an equally loving glowing box. It's not that my parents loved the idea of us watching a lot of tv, they just didn't have a chance. Picture the average night at the Carr residence: We've just arrived home from school, and Dad doesn't get home for another few hours. No matter how wily mom is, she's lost the fight already. We've got numbers on our side, and we know it. She might be able to keep a few of us in line doing homework, cleaning whatever crazy mess we've made around the house, maybe even fit in a tender parenting moment or two. But that leaves the rest of us little rapscallions free to wallow in the warm embrace of the television...teacher, mother, secret lover (The Simpsons). Don't get me wrong, I don't really watch all that much tv, maybe a couple of hours a week, but if you add that up over 52 weeks in a year and 26 years...well, you get the picture.

Ты неси меня река...

Another soundtrack post: 

The train creeps along the frozen Russian steppe. Peering through the window glistening with frost, I see a thick fog creeping at the base of the snow covered trees. I've gotten in the habit of picking a new book for each of my little trips and trying to finish it before the time is up. This time I was in a hurry and grabbed the first book on the 100 ruble shelf at Biblio Globus (a GIANT bookstore here that I love perusing)...this time it's the book Кому на руси жить хорошо (who lives well in Rus) by Nekrasov. Well, I think I bit off more than I can chew this time, it's poetry from the 19th century about the Russian peasantry. After about 100 pages I gave up, and started a conversation with the elderly gentleman sitting next to me, who ended up being much more interesting. Having moved to Siberia in the early 70's, Vladimir is a classic Russian muzhik with a barrel chest (and gut), gold teeth, and a handshake that tells of strength that was once there. This is his first trip outside of what is now Russia, so I help him fill out his border papers. 

Sick Day

Almost like clockwork. It’s mid-winter, and I’ve caught a bad cold. It’s as if my body looks outside through the frostbitten windowpane and says, ‘you’re not going out there, not today my friend.’ My body and I have always been at odds when it comes to winter activities. I say, ‘ooo, cross country skiing!’ and my body says, ‘yeah, how about you sleep in till the sun comes up?’ It should come as no surprise that my body usually wins - after all, it is MY body…

In the end the bear dies, but at a time, I wanted it to be the woman behind the glass

Often it seems as though everyone in your immediate path collaborate to just screw with you - nothing serious, just mess with your day. This hasn’t been the absolute best week I can remember, though it’s not the worst. This week’s combination took the form of falling throughs, no Ukraine, cancelations, bureaucracy, and screaming middle-aged women. But don’t worry - this particular week has a happy ending, in a very manly way.

As an illustration of my week, today I had a 45 minute heated argument trying to leap the bureaucratic hurdles that pop up oh so often here. In my defense the woman behind the glass started yelling at me right away. I will draw upon the 'she started it' excuse to weasel my way out of guilt on this one. Anyway, the newest Russian skill I’ve acquired – yelling. Honestly, Russians often won’t take you seriously unless you’re yelling at them, which is really hard for me. I’m not perfect at it yet, so I came home from today's skirmish defeated. Lightly spoken, I was a bit flustered with Russia in general, particularly the venal state of its organizational bodies.

To add to all my woes, when I got home to make dinner, I realized I had forgotten to pick up any meat. However, this is where the paths of choosing, and letting life choose for you diverged. A voice inside me said, ‘No, I’m gonna kill the bear.’

…my friends, I killed that bear. 

I got the bear meat almost a year ago in Estonia, and totally forgot about it. But then life threatened to destroy me, or make me hungry during class tonight, and under the intense heat of the fire of life - I became magnificent…

 You may be thinking, ‘Wow, Bryce really is pretty magnificent.’ Good point. You also may be thinking, ‘Wow, that meat looks terrible.’ Another very valid point. I decided there may be a reason people don’t usually eat canned bear.

It’s nice when something as small as bear meat can completely change the outcome of the day, even when it tastes pretty terrible. 

On Russian Hospitality and Hospitality in Russia

New Year's Day has come and gone, but the celebrations continue in Russia. On New Year's, I was invited to the house of my friends Vasya, Alyona, and Denis along with about 10 other people. I was in Russia last year, so I knew roughly what to expect...tons of fireworks, tons of food, and a euphoric atmosphere that just won't quit. It ended up being a 24 hour long Russian culture lesson. That's right, an entire day was dedicated to this party. I arrived at 6 pm on New Year's Eve (about an hour late) and got home at 6 pm on New Year's day. In the middle of all this, I fell asleep on their floor for a few hours, but for the most part was drunk on sleep exhaustion by the end of it. I was totally blown away at how much salad was there (and the whole time people were complaining there wasn't enough).

The uhhh, the Nutcracker

 Yesterday I went to the ballet Щелкунчик (The Nutcracker) by Tchaikovsky at the Bolshoi Theater. It was absolutely magnificent, and especially festive. The set, dancers, and especially orchestra were just so incredible...it's no wonder they're the best in the world. Now, some of the readers may wonder, 'How is Bryce able to go so such spectacular things on his modest budget?' Well, there are two answers to that. One, the ticket cost me 100 rubles, or three dollars since I'm a student. Two, life can get pretty manageable when you're only looking after yourself. So the answer to financial stability is maintaining a miserly attitude folks.

And here I am wallowing in my miserly gluttony. It's beautiful isn't it?

The real story though was how we got the tickets. We woke up at 5 am to make it to the theater just as it opened so we could sign a random 'student ticket' notebook that in no way was official, but is enforced by those who sign it. Throughout the day we were supposed to check in to ensure the notebook's safety from others who came later. On the metro ride to the theater, I was fortunate enough to have a very drunk, and very fragrant man sit next to me. We had such an emotionally berserk discussion. First he explained that he really liked me, we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. At another point his drunk eyes found the curious ability to give me a death stare, and he threatened to hit me in the most unpleasant of places. I told him, 'Sasha, I don't believe you would do that. We've gotten along so well thus far, and I don't think you want to hit me in the яички.' His eyes softened, and began their drunken wander again as he admitted that I was right. He was drunk, not angry, he just got a little confused. In the end, we became fast friends. I think my time in Ukraine really polished my ability to talk to angry drunks, if nothing else.

Whose woods these are I think I know

It's minus 25 Celsius outside on Christmas Eve, what am I going to do? Go running of course. Last year during the winter I often found myself staying inside my apartment to hide from the cold. Well, it turns out that's really boring! So this year I've made a concerted effort to do things no matter what...and it's turned out so great! I went ice skating with new friends, midnight strolls through glittering snowstorms, running in new forests, and there's only 5 more months of these types of activities. Today (Christmas Eve) I went for a run in my forest, Troporyovo, and I had to think of how lucky I am to live in a winter wonderland (even though I've always hated the cold, this time of year it just seems to fit).

Quiet Moscow Night

At the request of several people, I will start a series of small moments of everyday life for me. I have told a few people this, but sometimes when I'm bored, I like to narrate whatever's going on at the moment...the weird part is that it's usually in the voice of Jim Dale , or David Attenborough. Keep in mind, these short blips are naturally quite boring, but maybe a boring post is better than none at all?

Why run?

Running has played a huge part in my life. Since I was in seventh grade, it has taken the role of my major hobby, and has taken varying levels of meaning for me. Without getting into previous meanings it has been for me, I'll focus on the recent transformations of the significance of running for me. This summer, I came to the realization that as I grow older, it will be harder to find time to really train. So, to take advantage of the free time I have now, I began training for a marathon. I've known that I could run a marathon for a while now, I just wanted to do it right, and haven't had the time to train for it.

Пикник Афиши

Recently in Moscow, there was an event of silly proportions. It's called Afisha Picnic, and it's an open air concert, with artists from all around (but mostly Britain). Franz Ferdinand, Mika, Lauren Hill, Mos Def, и Аквариум were among the bands that performed. My friend Olya turned me onto going, and it was such a blast. Honestly, I was pretty skeptical...it just doesn't seem like my sort of thing. But in the end, I'm so glad I went, and here's why...

The weather was super fun, actually. It rained for about half an hour (out of a ten hour event, that's not too bad), and it just made things more fun. We all huddled under umbrellas, trying to stay  dry and dance at the same time. 

Skittlebrau at Peterhof is Wunderbar

After an entire day indoors, we needed a change. So we hopped on a bus and rode to Peterhof, a quaint little palace on the Baltic Seashore.

 Yulia foolishly gave away her only escape from the fountain (it's an umbrella)

 Sometimes it's hard being so sexually attractive

 Don't stop till you get enough...

The temple Savior on the Blood is incredible, constructed in the classic Russian style of colorful, and magnificent onion domes.

The frescos were some of the most impressive I've ever seen. The entire interior is covered in them.

The entire city is covered in historic sites. I loved seeing the incredible architecture.

 

I love going to new cities and just exploring. I always find new friends. I shared a romantic stroll on the beach of the Neva with this one.

One of my favorite things was visiting the Crime and Punishment sites. This one is Raskolnikov's house, but thanks to my friend Shine's sleuthing, we got to visit Dostoevsky's house, a pub he frequented, the old pawn broker's house, Sofie's house, and the bridge Raskolnikov contemplated suicide on. Needless to say, I was giddy as a schoolgirl...a very nerdy schoolgirl.

The Hermitage was the most impressive museum I've ever been to. Side note, this picture was taken at 11:30 at night...white nights--they're incredible.

The winter palace is a fantastic structure with elegant architecture, and gold covered everything that I thought was filled with chocolate. I was pretty disappointed to find it was only filled with cheese.

This is pretty much what I looked like the whole time, just stunned by what was around me.

So this isn't my favorite picture I saw, nor my favorite artist. I do love impressionist art though. Some new favorites are Pissarro and Vuillard. Check them out, I think you'll like what you see.

After a day packed full of visual culture, I was ready for a change. What does a single, 25 year old do when he's lookin for a party? He goes to the Marinski Opera House to watch the Marriage of Fiagaro. I was absolutely blown away, it had been far too long since I've seen an opera, and I really enjoyed it...you'd better be okay with that!

Coming up next...Peterhof