Pining for the Fjords

As I’ve mentioned previously on the blog, there are quite a few new breweries that either have opened recently or are scheduled to open soon in our area.  While it’s not quite next door, we attended the grandopening of 8 Bit Aleworks a few months ago and were suitably impressed with their setup and the quality of their offerings.  When I read on Facebook that they’d be hosting a beer pairing dinner, we figured we couldn’t miss it! We’re ready to eat! 8 Bit is a production brewery with a tasting room, so they don’t have an attached kitchen; while this means they don’t serve their own food, they’re very cognizant of the need for solid noms, and they often bring food trucks to their location to feed the hungry masses.  For this dinner, 8 Bit paired up with the folks who run the Frites Street food truck, one of the delicious offerings in our mobile Phoenix food scene. Pic of the truck from the interwebs. I forgot to take my own. Thanks, Google! While Frit

As I’ve mentioned before on the blog, I’ve done a few short triathlons in the past, but they’re not really my bag (and I tend to injure myself while doing them).  While I was sitting in the office one day, it dawned on me that Coach (real name: Luis), who also happens to sit next to me at work, is a great swimmer (he’s a great athlete all around, but he’s a fantastic swimmer), and our boss Eric is a solid biker (both on road and on trail).  If we added their skills to my mediocre level running ability, we had ourselves a triathlon relay team!  We bounced the idea around and settled on the ½ iron distance relay option for the Mountain Man triathlon, calling ourselves “Team S.O.B.” for our roots in the School of Business at UoPX. Tri weekend started out with a bit of a nasty surprise for the Olsen household.  On Friday morning, Chris went for a pool swim with our buddy Jake and after just 50 yards or so, had to stop what he was doing due to severe back pain.  I received this s

Between using up airfare miles and random incentives at work, we subscribe to a good dozen or so magazines, including Esquire , Runners’ World , Real Simple , Wine Enthusiast , and Entertainment Weekly .  However, my hands-down favorite is Smithsonian ; it always focuses on fascinating topics, the articles are well-written, and I finish the magazine knowing far more than when I started it.  An added bonus to receiving the magazine itself is that subscribing makes us Smithsonian members; any time we visit Toni and head into DC, we get discounts on items in the museum gift shops and cafes (PS – eat at the American Indian Smithsonian Museum the next time you’re in DC – you won’t be disappointed).  So, I officially Taylor Swift-level “heart” Smithsonian.  However, it’s come to my attention recently that I may not exactly be their target market (see also:  CBS’ Sunday Morning tv program), and now that I’ve noticed this, I can see clear proof in the advertisements chosen to appear betw

He kind of looked like this a-hole. I think.  It happened quickly. Well, okay, I almost stepped on a live pigeon, but it was a near miss.  Last Sunday, I was out for a 14 mile training run, and around mile 13, I was heading north on 83 rd Avenue past our Albertson’s, about to turn right and run through the neighborhood across the street from us.  A pigeon was cooing around on the sidewalk just a foot to my left, and I started clapping my hands and firmly saying “hey!” at him, to get him out of the way. See, although I firmly believe pigeons are rats with wings, they’re still animals, and thus, they deserve to know when a disgustingly sweaty biped is hobbling slowly in their direction, on their turf, so they can fly away unmolested.  I’ve found that the clapping and “hey!”ing generally alerts most animals to my presence, particularly coyotes.  Since I’m out running before the sun comes up 3-4 days a week, I like to ensure I don’t surprise any potential predators; the c

It’s still slow goings around the Olsen house lately, so there’s not a ton to blog about in terms of trips or races or whatnot.  I figured since I recently shared some Weej stories , it was high time to give Bella the blog treatment as well. "It's about freaking time!" Bella’s birthday is late October, so in a few months, she’ll turn 14 years old.  That’s pretty far up there for a larger dog (the last time at the vet, she tipped the scales at a slightly chubby 80 pounds), but she doesn’t show signs of giving up the ghost anytime soon.  Although she loves us (we think), she’s really become a cranky old cuss in her golden years, and we’re becoming somewhat convinced that she may live forever on sheer doggedness (heh!  See what I did there?) alone. Don't let her adorableness fool you - that's the face of a monster. We first glimpsed our Bella as an 8 week old puppy living underneath the porch of a house in Jacksonville, Florida, where we resi