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    Why do I feel as though I have no real right to speak up? Do I actually have anything to say?

    After all, I didn’t know him, really. I read what he wrote. I thought when he wrote. My little world expanded when he wrote. Over the past year and a half, his writing introduced me to political and social issues I may never have heard of otherwise, much less pondered. He introduced me to Ani DiFranco’s music. He was quick to respond to my e-mailed request for (socio)linguistics authors to start fanning my blooming curiosity about the field. His passion for recognizing and pointing out social injustices piqued my interest and helped me step out of my computer-geek-bookworm-anti-social box into a more world-conscious box. I never met him in person.…

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    It’s about damn time

    “Physical Activity Better Predictor of Heart Disease Risk Than Obesity Is“. I’m very much of the opinion that it’s good for these things to become more popular knowledge. It might kill some of the prejudice hanging around that weight is the only (or most important) indicator of health, that skinny people won’t have heart attacks, etc. One thing that’s interesting is that the study uses self-reported values of activity, meaning that, more than likely, those are somewhat inflated. The correlation still exists, of course, but we all know people tend not to want to be seen as completely sedentary in our “health-conscious” (for all that gets us) society…

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    "Wow, Lissa, it’d be wonderful if you got that HPLC working…"

    It feels like the only way to get more than the bare minimum done is to do it all myself. Is it bad that I’m already planning to take a pillow and blanket into the Thorn office and sleep all day Saturday after my run, damning all work that needs to be done? I’m not stressed, and I’m not really sleep deprived, but I’m damn tired anyway. I’m having trouble doing fun things, like programming more of the Thorn ad manager system that I agreed to do. Or finishing the fourth Harry Potter book. (It’s Tuesday, and I’m already whining. Ugh.)

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    An hour down, and four days to go.

    I ran something shy of five miles (4.5 – 4.7 mi, by pace) in about 58 minutes this morning. The run wasn’t difficult, really. It felt long, but not difficult. I may start focusing on picking up the pace more in the first half, since I have a tendency to go slow on the way out and haul ass to get back home. I’m not even going to repeat the fact that I’m tired. I suspect this will endure for the remainder of the quarter.

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    Lack of food and sleep do not a good run make

    I only made it about 46 minutes this morning before my body simply quit on me: light-headedness, light headache, feet not wanting to leave the ground, aching neck, shoulders, and arms. The problem with Sunday and Monday morning runs is that [more than likely] I won’t have eaten since lunch the previous day, since the cafeteria on campus is closed. This makes sustaining energy a little difficult. Combine this with a strong desire to simply sleep for one morning without an alarm, and this can make runs into interesting exercises in willpower. Morning runs are still best, though. Most of the bugs are still sleeping (or whatever bugs do when…