I have recently begun a fitness regime in an attempt to “streamline operations” and get in some sort of shape other than round. Seeking an activity I can do while travelling, with a minimum of equipment, I turned to running and found the appropriately named “Couch to 5K” nine week program on a running website. The appeal was instant, as I met the initial barrier to entry, being a bit of a fan of the couch, and 5K (3 miles) seemed like a lofty yet attainable goal for this reforming couch jockey.

As you read this, I am huffing and puffing my way into the final week of the program, although after watching several weeks of the Olympics, it is clear that the activity I engage in looks more like awkward trudging than what one could legitimately call running. I’ve also signed up for my first athletic competition since my days as a lackluster college athlete, a 5K appropriately named the “Hog Jog.”

Despite my less than athletic appearance, I have begun to feel a difference and was growing more confident in my fitness prowess until we purchased a Wii Fit, essentially a video game connected to a balance board/scale that purports to improve your fitness. I strode to the machine with a swagger, happy with the ten pounds our bathroom scale informed me I had lost, and stepped on the balance board. The animated representation of me in the game promptly ballooned as the machine told me, in no uncertain terms: “You’re Obese!” Adding insult to injury, a lengthy balance test ended in the machine asking if I “trip over my own feet” or “have difficulty walking.”

So, if you seen an obese gentleman trudging along the side of the road, tripping over his own feet and clearly experiencing trouble, resist the urge to veer your automobile to the side of the road and put him out of his misery!

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I’m making this posting from Paradise Island, in the Bahamas, where I have been for the last several days for a work conference. Unfortunately it is raining and the beaches and pools are abandoned, but there is good high-speed interest for catching up with work and email.

Yesterday I joined a trio of colleagues at the resort’s water park. One slide rose approximately five stories, embedded in the face of a building in the shape of a Mayan temple providing a commanding view of the waters around Paradise Island. The dull rush of waves was punctuated by the occasional scream from the ride itself, chillingly titled: “The Leap of Faith.”

A high wall at the top of the pyramid prevented a direct view of the slide itself, and one sat at the entrance to the tubular slide, with water flowing from one’s back. The tube extended a few feet, so again one could not see what lay in front or below the slider, save for the metallic tube of the slide. The slider would assume “the position,” crossing their arms and legs, laying down, and letting the water push them over the brink.

With my heart picking up its pace, I could not help but think of the obvious metaphor for life itself. From the dramatic to the utterly mundane act of getting out of bed each morning, we are never certain what lies ahead, and nearly every act takes some minor leap of faith. In the case of the slide, I felt my feet hit open air, then a sudden flash of light, acceleration, noise and water inundated my senses before I was thrust into a pool to decelerate and gather my bearings. Like life, I the experience involved an element of fear and the unknown, but was vastly more enjoyable than sitting on the sidelines watching others take a leap of faith of their own.

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I’ve done some “interesting” things on overcast Saturdays, but I can’t say I’ve ever had plans to attend a birthday party, preceded by a protest at the United Nations. I must confess that I am a complete virgin when it comes to the art of protesting, preferring to confine my political leanings to writing or the occasional rant to the local drunk at whatever pub I happen to be visiting (for a glass of milk of course). This will mark my first foray into public protest, although the chances of water cannons and tear gas at this particular rally are quite remote.

Today I’m more of a witness than an actual participant in the goings on. To keep consulting from taking up too much of my brain, I’m involved with a non-profit organization I helped found several years ago. Our latest project is to begin capturing a “people’s history,” where we interview regular folks, and create a searchable library of these interviews. Rather than presenting a documentary, where the author has a defined objective and bias, we’re trying to present the raw first-person perspectives on historical events, to allow the reader to make their own conclusions.

We’re in the process of building the first prototype, and need some content for the “library” that would prove interesting to potential volunteers and donors. We originally were targeting the “greatest generation,” yet to our surprise much of the 70+ crowd is very camera shy! One of the cofounders of this organization is also involved with civil society in Zimbabwe, and is gathering Zimbabweans from all over to make their views known at the UN summit this weekend. I confess a fair amount of ignorance when it comes to Zimbabwean politics, but it should present a perfect opportunity to gather the stories of folks who don’t often get a chance to have their views heard.

I’ll post some pictures following the event, and some updates about our project in the near future. Until then, protest away!

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After an amazing wedding, we cleared out of the Murray Hill Inn with the rest of the troupe around 11AM and made our way back to our apartment. A quick session of packing, last minute bill paying and closing down the house, and we were off to the St. Regis in Manhattan for an evening with the “finer folks.”

The alarm rang all too early at 3:45am for our trip to JFK, and a flight to Puerto Rico. This installment of the PR left us with enough time to sample lunch at Subway, and spend a joyous hour with the world’s slowest TSA gang. A short turboprop flight later, and we arrived in Anguilla, known by the native tourist organization as “Tranquility Wrapped in Blue.”

The airport here brings new meaning to the phrase “one horse town,” and it was the first international flight I’ve ever had where it was less than 100 feet from my seat to customs. The island has about 12,000 inhabitants, all of whom seem to know each other. A quick cab ride and we arrived at our new home, the CuisinArt Resort. The resort hypes up its on-location greenhouse, beach and gardens, and for once everything in the colorful brochure was accurate. We were greeted with a huge spread of cheeses, treats and champagne, and our room overlooks the blue waters and in the distance, the island of St. Marten.

Thus far, we’ve managed to eat, drink, and sleep, with not much else on the agenda. This afternoon’s mission is to find a local dive operator, and perhaps see if I can dust off my sailing skills and challenge the local waters in a Sunfish. We’ll try and post some updates, if we can fit it in between our busy schedule of umbrella drinks and naps on the beach!

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Nasty business in London right now. I was in a meeting when I heard the news of the bombings downtown. Unfortunately the Londoners are going through much the same activities of folks in the US back in 2001: crowds around televisions checking the news, BBC and CNN on most computer monitors, and battles with congested mobile phone networks to contact family. I am staying outside the city near Heathrow, so I am well away from the area where the explosions took place, but I wish all those with friends and family downtown a safe return.

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The TL and I rolled out for our last Stamford to Exton, PA. run on this dreary
Monday morning, marking the final countdown to moving day. I exorcised the
final demons of a week-long sickness (courtesy of my coworkers) with a final
blowout "night on the town" with Meghan and her friend Jessica, and now there
are a few more boxes to be packed, a truck to be loaded, and we’re off to NY on
Saturday morning!

Other than my childhood home in MA, my two years in Stamford is my longest stay
in any particular place. I feel a certain fondness for "the Stamf," but with
my job once again not tied to a particular area, there’s no reason to stay. I
am rather troubled that I’ll be forced to carry a NY drivers license, and pay
state taxes to the [Evil] Empire State, but at least we’ll be officially
outside of NYC borders so hopefully I won’t have to admit to being a New
Yawker. If you do see me with "goofy glasses," a "distressed" haircut,
messenger bag and permantly-affixed iPod, please feel free to punch me in the
face. I’ll thank you later.

Meghan and I did some re-con on our new place over the weekend, and although the
area seems far quieter than our current digs, we did manage to sniff out a
couple of bars and some local eateries. For whatever reason, there is an
abundance of Japanese places (restaurants, schools, groceries), bakeries and
dry cleaners, leading us to believe we’ll meet many very clean Japanese folks,
who really like cake!

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After a 4am wake up call to catch my first flight of the day, I’m sitting in Cincinnati waiting for my connection back to JFK, along with several thousand of my closest friends. It’s somewhat amusing watching thos who rarely travel negotiate airport queues with nervous looks and mouths agape. One of the more amusing aspects of these ?infrequent flyers? is that they actually take the ?arrive many hours before your flight? advice to heart. This morning I saw a lonely and sleepyly looking family station at their gate for a 9:30 departure. It was 5:37.

The other thing I find amusing is that these folks stock up on food, magazines, etc as if they were going to Siberia via dogsled. There were hundreds of folks waiting at McDonalds, both at 5am in Chicago and now in Cincinnati. The last thing I want to see after 5 hours of sleep is some Greaseball McFatty from the golden arches!

I have one more flight, a 40 mile drive back two Stamford, and then a couple more hours rest before Meghan gets back from work. THEN it’s a 300 mile drive up to NH. I hope my Dad has the bourbon waiting… I’m going to need it!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!

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Today is the final day at our villa in Tuscany. We leave tomorrow morning for an airport hotel in Florence in preparation for an early departure on Sunday morning. The villa has a wonderful view of vineyards and olive groves, and the sounds of the city are replaced by the whistling of workers picking grapes, and the buzzing of flies grown fat from the richness of the land.

(image removed in preparation for new gallery software)

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Today marks my return to Florence for the second time this year, and oddly enough we parked right across the street from where Meghan and I stayed when we were here about 2 months ago. This was the hotel we stayed in right before I "popped the question" in the town of Asolo. Walking by brought back lots of memories!

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I’m enjoying my first full day in the Tuscany region with my parents and sister. Thus far, the weather (and the Italian wine) have been perfect! We’re staying in a small villa in the heart of Tuscany. I’ll post the name of the town later, since I’ll offend any real Italians in the audience with my Gringo version of the spelling. We’re surrounded by vineyards, olive groves and plate after plate of delicious food.

This evening brought a beautiful red sky, and I’ll have several pictures to post upon my return. It has been great to get reacquanted with my family, and clear my head from my previous job. I’ll be more than ready to crank things up at the new gig upon my return.
Disclaimer: I am posting these updates via the 4mm keyboard on my Blackberry, so I apologize for any spelling errors!

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One last look at Barry Place, where I worked as a Pitney Bowes employee. After a great send off party, today is my last day!

(image removed in preparation for new gallery software)

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Our life is reminiscent of the David Bowie song “Changes” these days. I just signed an employment contract with a German consulting company called syskoplan, and bought a new car, all in the course of one week! I’ll be leaving Pitney Bowes after three great years, to try my hand back in the rough and tumble world of CRM consulting.

Meghan and I are “on the road” at the moment, attending a friend’s wedding, but I’ll provide more detailed updates on everything that’s happening when we return!

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