How it all began

25 years ago today, my parents packed up their brand-new house and, with a 10-month-old (me) in tow and another one (my sister) on the way, moved from Mexico City to San Diego, California.

Apparently, I wasn't very happy with that decision...

(In the Mexico City airport, looking very worried.)

Things in California didn't turn out the way they'd planned -- they never do, do they? -- and for a time it seemed their decision had been ill-advised indeed. They'd left a very good life, careers, friends and family behind, and suddenly their 'adventure' had left them stranded and alone. (Plus, if you'd asked me at the time I would have told you that Gerber baby food bottled in Mexico tasted a lot better than the American kind. Seriously.) To make matters worse, Mexico's then-president began playing havoc with the economy, so going back was no longer an attractive option.

Fortunately, life has a funny way of working out. It took a little while, but we set up a new life in Houston and surrounded ourselves with a kind of surrogate family, friends who were in many cases immigrants themselves. The United States has been very good to us -- but our roots and hearts still were, remain and will always be in Mexico.

(A happier me playing with my Abuelo.)

'Cualquier contacto con el pueblo mexicano, así sea fugaz, muestra que bajo las formas occidentales laten todavía las antiguas creencias y costumbres...'
--Octavio Paz, 'El Laberinto de la Soledad'

Ouch

Holy crap, am I sore. Calves, quads, shoulders, forearms -- everything hurts. Amazing how much stuff can come out of one tiny apartment...

Down two flights of stairs, up five, far too many times to count. 10 hours (with two breaks for food) and several back-and-forth trips of the U-Haul van later, we were moved into our new, much bigger home. Many thanks to our crew for doing it all with a smile (and for accepting payment in the form of pizza and beer). You'll be the first ones invited to our housewarming!

Needless to say, between this and Saturday's race I am NOT running again till tomorrow at least.

In other, somewhat-related news, our old apartment (still technically ours till the end of the month) has yet to find a new tenant and Sassouni Management has already dropped the price two times. This in spite of record low vacancy rates (sub-1%) among Manhattan apartments... Even better, prospective tenants will now find a mostly empty space (which makes it look even smaller) full of dust bunnies. Ah, karma is so sweet!

Team Championships

My advance apologies for the shortest race report ever... We're moving this weekend and I'm in desperate need of a nap before the craziness begins.

NYRR Team Championships today -- Unseasonably fantastic day for my favorite race of the year: 60 degrees, breezy, not a cloud in the sky, and less than a thousand runners in the field. Started strong and felt strong through the entire course. I wasn't sure how it would go because while my mileage has been solid, life (busy job, exploding steampipes, the usual) has gotten in the way of regular speed workouts. But with the exception of some creeping fatigue around mile 4, I felt like I was in control of the race.

Splits were even and right on target: [1] 6.57 [2] 6.48 [3] 6.53 [4] 7.01 up Cat Hill [5] 6.38. I rounded the bend at the transverse and passed the girl I'd been trailing just steps before the line (too late for her to pass me back, haha!) for a 34:17 finish (6:51/mi), which is a PR by almost a minute (from this race last year)! There were also a whole bunch of PR's among the rest of my team -- Yaay Dogs!

Thanks to the Reservoir Dog and NY Harriers men for cheering, and to my team for the yummy post-race picnic! Pictures and maybe even some NYRR videos to follow soon...

Two of my favorite things

Running and politics! Today was another muggy day in Central Park, another great speed workout with the Dogs -- and another sighting of our very own Governor Eliot Spitzer running up to the reservoir.

This is probably the third or fourth time I've seen him while waiting with the group, which is pretty cool (if you're a big nerd like me).

Just one thing though -- what's with the dumpy cotton gear, Mr. Governor? We might just have to send you your own bright red TRD technical tee... nothing like a pair of big paws on your shoulder to soften the ol' steamroller reputation :-)

From our friends at the MTA

Hat tip, East Village Idiot -- click through to read the full original post.

There are days

When living in this city drives me absolutely batty.

Today is one of those days.

(Oh, and sorry I've fallen off the earth... work and life have been crazy busy, and I just haven't felt inclined to write much in my few down moments.)

It has to do with the much-dreaded NYC apartment search. Fact is, our cute but tiny (sub-500sq foot) pad has gotten a bit too tight for comfort... that, and our management company sucks. Clearly I never expected to love them -- but these guys are without a doubt the most singularly, absurdly unprofessional people I have ever had to deal with, and I'm tired of forking over my hard-earned money to them every month.

So with my apologies to those of you who didn't come here to hear me rant, I'm going to test the powers of the internet in the hopes that an enterprising Googler will stumble upon this and save him/herself a good deal of headaches.

Sassouni Management is the most unpleasant, untrustworthy and lazy operation I have ever encountered. Every interaction with Ambi, the woman who works there, immediately turns into a fight -- even if all you're asking for is to have your lease renewal in writing. Of course, you have no other choice but to deal with her. So she lies to your face (refusing certain rights and obligations clearly spelled out in NYC housing law), hangs up on you and if you actually go to their offices she will walk out the door when you're in mid-sentence. She responds to requests only when you threaten legal action.

This attitude translates into the management of the building, of course. The super is lazy and unreliable. He doesn't keep appointments and flat-out refuses simple jobs. The renovations are shabby and the common areas are filthy; when the concrete entryway got dirty he put down a carpet instead of sweeping, and when that carpet got dirty he just flipped it over. He painted the basement/laundry room and just stopped about a foot above the floor. He leaves old appliances -- stoves, A/C units, cabinets -- sitting in the narrow hallway for weeks at a time, creating a very real fire hazard.

(I could go on... seriously, you can't make this stuff up.)

To top it all off, now that I'm moving Sassouni has enlisted brokers to show the apartment (they only thing they've ever moved quickly on -- I got the first call two days after I gave them notice that we were vacating). Of course I don't trust them in my apartment alone, so I asked them to hold an open house.

As of 1pm this afternoon, Ray of the Broadway Group has managed to make, and then break with less than 2-hours' notice, three open house appointments. He complained that his potential clients bail on him or that he can't them to return his calls. Well guess what, buddy -- that's not my problem! This is your job, not mine.

I'm so sick of it all, and apparently so are others. If you're looking for a place, stay far, far away.

Back to our regular (happier) scheduled programming soon, I hope...