After two days of knee pain I decided to take Wednesday off. Physically it was good to take the time off but mentally I felt strange not being in workout clothes all day long.
The day turned out to be pretty eventful.
On my way to getting a haircut I drove past the campaign office for the guy running for Congress in my district, Eric Massa.
When I walked in I immediately felt nostalgic-the campaign office was a dump and reminded me of all those days and nights I spent at the Westly campaign office. You gotta love political campaigns because they have a definite pulse that most corporate/run of the mill offices lack. Everyone is filled with their own self-importance(that was a low blow).
I signed up to volunteer for the campaign because he is a democrat running against a Republican incumbent. The problem is that this guy, Eric Massa, just changed his political affiliation after Karl Rove fired him a few years back for writing some negative things about the Bush administration. It's a long story-not very interesting to most but just goes to show that most dems on the East coast are Republicans in blue collar clothing.
Enough about my rant. The volunteer coordinator-a graduate from Rochester Institute of Technology and looking too smart to be there, told me that I should attend an event with the candidate to do some campaigning that evening. So, I grabbed my friend Ilana, went shopping with her during the afternoon, and then dragged her to the Brighton jazz concert to campaign for Eric Massa. I am trying to encourage her to complete her political science major at UPenn.
There was a HUGE Rochester turn out-about forty people showed up. Most of them were seniors who voted in a different district and most of the others were their grandchildren that weren't old enough to vote. The few that fit the criteria of old enough to vote and young enough to hear, didn't want us bothering them. At one point Mr. Massa was cursed at-he said that never usually happens. Either way, this was a big campaign miss. Sorry Eric, better luck tomorrow at your press conference.
It was fun to get out today and enjoy my other interests-haircuts, shopping, and political campaigns.
An interesting coincidence-I'm going to a political fundraiser on Friday for Congresswoman Louise Slaughter. She was the person that influenced me to get into politics-I want her seat when she retires in a few years. Too bad she isn't in my district anymore-dang gerrymandering!
All in all this was a great day! Thanks Ilana for hanging out with me at that Brighton Jazz festival. At least the band was good (the average age of the band members is 70) and we got free t-shirts that say "Vote for Eric Massa". How could a day off be any better than that?
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Happy Birthday to my big sis, Felicia Zimmermann. She is currently in Los Angeles-hard at work for Booze Allen Hamilton but her family in Rochester, NY is thinking of her. Wish you were home to celebrate!
Here's a little story about the Olympian sisters from Rochester, NY.
Felicia and I fenced together for nearly eighteen years and this is the first Olympic trials I am going through without her. Of course she is always there for love and support but I am going to miss her coaching and help during competitions. There have been so many big matches in my career that I couldn't have won without her advice. Mostly I think it was the fact that there was always someone unconditionally in my corner that made the biggest difference.
In 2000 we were the ultimate Olympic story. We composed two-thirds of the USA women's foil team. I don't know how Ann, our teammate, ever put up with our sibling shenanigans.
The best part of the whole experience in 2000 was walking into the Olympic stadium for opening ceremonies hand in hand with my sister. I can't really explain the feeling of that moment. How do you capture in words and explain what thousands of people sound like cheering for you while you are down on the stadium field (besides asking a football player)? How can you describe what it's like to be there with someone you are the closest to in your life? How can you describe the joy and pride we felt that we had accomplished this goal together? I guess one word-indescribable. Aren't I always full of these cliches?
During Olympic tryouts in 2004 our relationship took a different turn. Rather than being teammates we were competitors on a whole new level. We had always been competitive, but this time it was different. I was training with our old coach in New York City and Felicia, a year before the games, decided to make a comeback and moved back to Rochester to train for one last attempt. The difference was-only ONE women's foil fencer from the USA was going to Athens in 2004.
At this point she had two Olympics under her belt already and I was going for my second team. My father complained the whole year about not putting us in two different fencing weapons so we didn't have to compete against each other.
We fenced a few times at world cups and national competitions that year. I lost to her at a crucial world cup in Shanghai, China. In the end I didn't make the team by two points and beating her would have made a difference because I needed another result in the Asian competition zone. A lot of our competitors asked why she didn't forfeit the bout. At the time I really wish she did (it was a horrible year) but with time and perspective I realize she did the right thing and fenced me at her best. It was a hard pill to swallow because it felt as though she was no longer in my corner but I didn't realize she had never really left my side.
My relationship with my former coach had been deteriorating to the point that I felt alone and isolated in New York City. The city swallowed everything up including my ability to see that my sister was trying to help me the entire year despite what it seemed like in China. To make a long story short-things didn't go so well in the Big Apple so she tried to convince me to move back home and train with her to boost my morale and confidence.
There is no doubt that Felicia is my closest friend and biggest supporter in life. :)I could never dream as big if she wasn't there with every step.
Jai, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Camp Photos- Part III, the lost files
I think the one of me on the treadmill is scary. If I were my opponent I think I'd be afraid. :)
Motivation
It's not always easy training on my own. There is something to be said about participating in a team sport where your fellow teammates can provide a source of support and competitive motivation.
Today was one of those days where the motivation was definitely lacking-my mind and body decided to stay in bed. I warmed up on the stationary bike for about twenty minutes while watching a Tupac Shakur movie on my own personal tv, which was hooked up to the front of my bike. It's an amazing club with all sorts of amenities, but today I needed a change of pace.
After I got off the bike, stretched and did some exercises, I realized that I was yawning. It was such a nice day outside and here I am just sitting on a stationary bike. I knew I had to do a better workout than peddling in place and watching Tupac Shakur (although I found out he actually went to a performing arts school, is extremely religious, and his mother was a Black Panther-who knew?)
Twenty minutes later I'm outside on the East High School track across the street from the fencing club. I didn't expect anyone to be out at the track in the middle of the day, but low and behold there were about eight, ten to twelve year old kids suited up in full football gear doing some type of sit-up exercise while their pot-bellied coach was yelling at them.
I recently broke my iPod so I had to run around the track while listening to this coach yell things to these poor ten year olds-"WHAT NUMBER ARE YOU ON? I CAN'T HEAR YOU? WHAT? WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU?!!!" (May I suggest a hearing aid because I clearly heard that they were on number five.) So I made it around the track to complete a mile and decided to do some stairs after that. I spent a good forty-five minutes out there sweating in the sun, jumping and running up and down stairs, taking some turns on the track, and doing some plyometrics for good measure.
All the while I am listening to this coach yell at the kids-nothing too terrible but I thought, this reminds me of my old coach and how can these kids stand it anymore?
But then the revelation.
These kids were doing a stair run so I got a chance to see them up close. They were dressed in random football padding and clothes, some of the kids had no shoes on and the other's had shoes that were barely holding themselves together. I wish you could have seen these kids with their helmets on-I think they were running with their heads on their shoulders just to bear the weight of it all.
What stuck with me the most was the determination these kids had on their faces. Some of them didn't have helmets so I could see their faces clearly. The look in their eyes was sharp, focused, and a bit fierce. I remember that look.
Then right as they were finishing their last steps I saw three older kids-about fourteen come towards the track. These kids were the stereotypical "kids from the wrong side of the neighborhood". This group didn't have shirts on, pants were slung dangerously low, and they were smoking a blunt.
Being there was almost like watching the Tupac Shakur movie or some after school special where they talk about how good kids can go wrong. Does anyone remember the D.A.R.E. program?
I know this is ultimately going to be the biggest cliche, but even though this coach was yelling at them, even though they may not have had shoes on, even though they were wearing football pads in the middle of the summer heat, there was motivation to bound up the steps and do those sit-ups. The hope is that these kids will use sport as a tool to change their lives and motivate them to pursue something greater than their surroundings.
I really enjoyed training outside today and doing the exercises my friend calls the "raw sports shit". I'm humbled by my dose of reality and I wish to have half the fight and determination that these kids have.
Meanwhile on the job front. I've given up on the mayor. I've given up on trying to pursue anything political while training. I am contemplating getting a job at a coffee shop during the afternoons or substitute teaching when school starts. The bottomline, I need a job otherwise I can't afford to pay for any of my bills and that, my friends, is my take on the "raw sports shit".
Today was one of those days where the motivation was definitely lacking-my mind and body decided to stay in bed. I warmed up on the stationary bike for about twenty minutes while watching a Tupac Shakur movie on my own personal tv, which was hooked up to the front of my bike. It's an amazing club with all sorts of amenities, but today I needed a change of pace.
After I got off the bike, stretched and did some exercises, I realized that I was yawning. It was such a nice day outside and here I am just sitting on a stationary bike. I knew I had to do a better workout than peddling in place and watching Tupac Shakur (although I found out he actually went to a performing arts school, is extremely religious, and his mother was a Black Panther-who knew?)
Twenty minutes later I'm outside on the East High School track across the street from the fencing club. I didn't expect anyone to be out at the track in the middle of the day, but low and behold there were about eight, ten to twelve year old kids suited up in full football gear doing some type of sit-up exercise while their pot-bellied coach was yelling at them.
I recently broke my iPod so I had to run around the track while listening to this coach yell things to these poor ten year olds-"WHAT NUMBER ARE YOU ON? I CAN'T HEAR YOU? WHAT? WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU?!!!" (May I suggest a hearing aid because I clearly heard that they were on number five.) So I made it around the track to complete a mile and decided to do some stairs after that. I spent a good forty-five minutes out there sweating in the sun, jumping and running up and down stairs, taking some turns on the track, and doing some plyometrics for good measure.
All the while I am listening to this coach yell at the kids-nothing too terrible but I thought, this reminds me of my old coach and how can these kids stand it anymore?
But then the revelation.
These kids were doing a stair run so I got a chance to see them up close. They were dressed in random football padding and clothes, some of the kids had no shoes on and the other's had shoes that were barely holding themselves together. I wish you could have seen these kids with their helmets on-I think they were running with their heads on their shoulders just to bear the weight of it all.
What stuck with me the most was the determination these kids had on their faces. Some of them didn't have helmets so I could see their faces clearly. The look in their eyes was sharp, focused, and a bit fierce. I remember that look.
Then right as they were finishing their last steps I saw three older kids-about fourteen come towards the track. These kids were the stereotypical "kids from the wrong side of the neighborhood". This group didn't have shirts on, pants were slung dangerously low, and they were smoking a blunt.
Being there was almost like watching the Tupac Shakur movie or some after school special where they talk about how good kids can go wrong. Does anyone remember the D.A.R.E. program?
I know this is ultimately going to be the biggest cliche, but even though this coach was yelling at them, even though they may not have had shoes on, even though they were wearing football pads in the middle of the summer heat, there was motivation to bound up the steps and do those sit-ups. The hope is that these kids will use sport as a tool to change their lives and motivate them to pursue something greater than their surroundings.
I really enjoyed training outside today and doing the exercises my friend calls the "raw sports shit". I'm humbled by my dose of reality and I wish to have half the fight and determination that these kids have.
Meanwhile on the job front. I've given up on the mayor. I've given up on trying to pursue anything political while training. I am contemplating getting a job at a coffee shop during the afternoons or substitute teaching when school starts. The bottomline, I need a job otherwise I can't afford to pay for any of my bills and that, my friends, is my take on the "raw sports shit".
Camp Photos - Part II
Explanation of photos:
1. Hamming it up with Misha (fellow Rochester teammate and soon to be Harvard student) at the testing lab.
2. Pre-test
3. After-test. Notice that I am trying to concentrate on not passing out.
4. Girls just wanna have fun.
5. This is a photo of Misha on Thursday's aerobic test. It's so gatorade commercial-esque. I made it to all 12 minutes before tearing off the breathing tube. The craziest part is having your nostrils closed shut-it makes the breathing even harder. Apparently I did pretty well on the test but I won't know all the results for another week or so.
Hope you enjoyed the photos as much as I enjoyed camp!
Camp Photos - Part I
Explanation of photos:
1. Me
2.Photo of the entire camp. I'm the oldest of the bunch minus the two coaches, Nat on the left and Mike Pederson on the right.
3.This is another photo of Mike Pederson after the girls at the camp decided to dress him up while waiting to get tested on the first day. I had to add this one.
4.Third photos is of Nicole Ross-a member of the US Junior Team. She is on the bike getting ready for her anaerobic testing-30 grueling seconds at max speed.
5. Fourth photo is of fellow senior world team member, Hanna Thompson. She just graduated from Ohio State and she'll be training with me for Beijing. Funny story-she started fencing because her older sister was fencing and her older sister fenced because we were classmates and she took up fencing. Oh how small the world is.
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