Running Response

My sister, Johanna, wrote a post about running on her blog last week. The post inspired me to write a rather lengthy comment, which was subsequently destroyed due to an unpublished word-length maximum for comments. I wrote a second comment, promising to rewrite my first comment on my own blog, so here it is (Disclaimer: my comment was meant as a bit of a joke, so it might be best if you read Johanna's post first):

I've discovered the trick to running regularly.

To begin with, a goal is important. In my case, I've signed up for a sprint length triathalon in May. Not having run much in the last couple years, I knew I had to get on it if I expected to seriously compete. I decided that I would start running to and from work, twice weekly. This works pretty well and I've (mostly) been keeping to my schedule.

My run to work takes me about 20 - 25 minutes. Normally, I bike to work and that takes me about 15 - 20 minutes; or at least, the biking part does. When I bike to work, I also have to put on all my biking gear, get into my apartment building's chock-full, difficult-to-maneuver-in bike room, unlock my bike and get it on the road. Then I have to do it all in reverse once I arrive at work. All told, these extra steps take on the order of 5 - 10 minutes, making the total time 'traveled' by foot or bike pretty much the same.

There is a hidden benefit to running to work: When I run to work, I don't have a shower at home (because who would want to have a shower and then go for a run?), nor do I eat breakfast at home; I do both at work instead. In fact, getting ready to go to work when running takes on the order of 15 minutes, while getting ready to go to work when biking takes on the order of 40 minutes. Therefore, I can stay in bed later when I run to work, which is a very easy thing to do since at that time of day I tend to subscribe wholeheartedly to Newton's first law of motion.

Now here's the trick: It's easy to go to bed with the intent of getting up 'late' on the nights before a run since the pre-run anxiety hasn't had a chance to set in. Once I've convinced myself that I can get up 'late', I'm usually pretty successful in deferring any efforts towards getting out of bed until I absolutely have to. Of course, in my sleep-addled state I usually forget that means I'm going running. By the time I'm fully awake and up it's already well past the time I would have to be on the move if I expect to get to work by bike. Therefore, I'm pretty much forced to run to work if I expect to make it on time.

I'm telling you, it's a fantastic system. The only problem is that once I've run almost entirely downhill to work in the morning, I still have to run back home almost entirely uphill.

Olympic spirit

It's rare for Canadians to demonstrate fierce national loyalty, especially in comparison to the rampant nationalism in the US; Canada Day is a meek affair compared with the Independence Day of our neighbours to the south. The 2010 Winter Olympics, however, turned everything upside down. Canada showed just how proud and excited it could be under the right circumstances. I guess many would say that we let our hair down and abandoned our usual, staid outward personas.

For two weeks, everyone in Vancouver was wearing red. People carried Canadian flags everywhere and wore temporary maple leaf tattoos on their faces. Random recitals of "O Canada" happened all over the city. Passing someone on the street resulted in a high five more often than not - especially after a big medal win. And it seems like it was justified: Canada won more gold medals at the 2010 Winter Olympics than any other country has every won at any Winter Olympic event - that's a big accomplishment.

Yet it wasn't all roses. The Olympic Spirit extends only so far it seems; in this case, as far as our nearest border. I can't say that I witnessed myriad instances of Canadians haranguing Americans, but I saw enough to make me feel uncomfortable.

Most of this harassment seemed to be focused on the preliminary round match-up and the somewhat surprising gold medal match-up between the Canadian and American hockey teams. To some extent, I can understand that there is a certain amount of bitterness to be expected from Canadians towards Americans when it comes to hockey; hockey is unquestionably Canada's game, yet our most talented athletes are exported to the more numerous and successful teams south of the border. Yet this doesn't warrant the vitriolic comments made by some [over-] proud Canadians.

It's a sad thing that such rivalries can't be joked about by everyone. After all, the modern olympics games were founded on the principles of good sportsmanship and peace amongst diverse nations. It's too bad that there are a small number - and I do believe it is small - of people who aren't willing to see past their own narrow preconceptions.

Player change

I've been having some ongoing discussions with some friends lately about narrative in games. 'Narrative' in itself is a vague term when it comes to games; I find that there is a considerable variety of ideas as to the exact nature of narrative in games. When I speak of game narrative I'm referring to anything that can act as a story vehicle: it could be dialogue; environmental objects including buildings or outdoor terrain; or it could be gameplay structure. Game narrative to me means anything that can be used to help draw the player into the game-fiction.

In game development, film tends to be the first place we look to provide guidance in writing compelling stories, due primarily to the visual nature of both games and film. I don't think there is inherently anything wrong with this, but it is important to remember that games are a very different medium from film. For example, in film (and most other storytelling media) we talk about the need for character development and growth (this is sometimes abridged to the statement 'the character must undergo a change'). The character 'undergoing a change' doesn't necessarily have to be the protagonist, but in many cases it is. In games, this concept becomes complicated due to the fact that conventional game development wisdom states the protagonist should be somewhat of a blank slate; an empty vessel that the player can mold as he or she sees fit.

In games where the player and the character are so closely intertwined, perhaps the goal of the narrative should be to force a change in the player, rather than the character. Then the question becomes: How do you qualify a 'change' in someone as a direct result of a playing a video game? (I don't think behavioural changes, such as those induced by the addictive qualities of games like World of Warcraft are sufficient, by the way). Due to the nature of my employment I haven't spent much time lately playing games outside of the mainstream, but I would guess that there are likely many serious and persuasive games out there that purport to change the player in some way. Have you ever been changed by such a game?

Muscle Memory

For the last six months I've been riding my 'commuter' bike (a somewhat hacked together used bike with straight, horizontal handlebars and an upright geometry) to and from work. I got on my road bike today (a more aggressive beast with a high seat-post, low drop handlebars, and somewhere around half the weight of my commuter bike) for the first time since last summer. It was a very interesting experience: First off, I nearly fell off as soon as my feet were in the pedals. Then I could hardly keep my front wheel pointed straight. Near the end of my ride, I tried peddling with my hands off the handlebars (something I can do with ease on my commuter bike) and the bike wobbled back and forth like I was on a slalom course.

I've gone long stretches without riding my road bike before, but never while riding another bike in the interim. Balance was sometimes an issue those other times, but not like it was today. Today was an excellent example of the body's ability to remember. All the time I spent practicing and riding on my road bike last summer has been undone by six months of riding twice a day, to and from work for 20 minutes each way. It won't take long to get more comfortable on my road bike; a few weeks of consistent riding will solve that issue. I wonder though if riding both bikes regularly means that I'll never be completely comfortable on either bike.

Yet even when I do get back to my form from last summer, when I was at the peak (or more accurately, a local maximum) of my riding abilities, I'm still a long shot away from the control exhibited by professional road bike racers. There is a whole other level of balance and muscle memory that I don't think I'll ever be party to. It may sound crass, but I've seen professional riders stand in their peddles and urinate from on top of their bikes, all the while travelling downhill at speeds likely approaching 40 or 50 km/h. That kind of stunt takes an awful lot of trust in one's abilities and in the dependability of one's bike. Not something that you're going to catch me trying.

Refocus

I had a chance to 'refocus' to some degree recently. I realize in retrospect that it's not something I get to do very often; there are always 'things' to do, and rarely time just to chill and think. This past weekend I travelled to Washington with friends, and on Sunday, we went for a walk along a small, glacier-fed river through the middle of a beautiful rainforest. I often feel meditative in such serene natural settings and this weekend was no exception. It was a great opportunity to think about my current and future priorities - one of which was this blog.

I started this blog with the intent of developing my 'essay' writing skills. I say 'essay' because I wanted to try writing shorter pieces about interesting topics in a somewhat (this is where the quotes around 'essay' come in) argumentative style. I think I've done that to a degree, but I believe I've been failing on the qualifier 'short': I'm falling into a bit of a deadly spiral that results in not finding the time to write because I feel that I don't have sufficient time. Hence this compromise: I'm going to try to keep my blog writing to three paragraphs for a while, to see if that helps.

In other writing news, I've finally printed off my NaNoWriMo novel started reading it with an eye to revision. That's about a month or so later than I intended to begin this second phase of the novel, so no more promises on a readable draft by the spring. The extended break was good though - I'm excited about taking up the novel again. I just don't entirely know when I'm going to find the time to work on it. :)

Game Jammin'

I spent a couple hours yesterday at the Vancouver site of the Global Game Jam. This is the third game jam that I've been a part of, either as a participant or an organizer, and it definitely won't be the last. There is a fantastic energy that permeates a game jam, precipitated by what seems an impossible task: Develop a fully functioning and playable video game within 48 hours. There is enthusiasm, creativity, laughter, mistake and missteps, and an inevitable scramble to the deadline, yet the is both empowering and exhausting. If you have any interest at all in making games, I wholeheartedly endorse the experience.

This time around I wasn't participating; but being among the thirty or so odd game jammers I couldn't help but become somewhat nostalgic for a time less than a year ago when myself and five other students at my school were working on an experimental gameplay project. For three months straight all we did was develop (mostly) Flash and ActionScript3 based experimental video games. Each game was built by two or three people, ranging from 3 days to 2 weeks to complete; by the end of the project we had developed a total of 18 games. You can play some of them here.

Making games so quickly necessitates some sacrifices. Sometimes the 'polish' that a game needs to make a true 'experience' goes out the window; things like extra levels and bonus game play are not generally an option. The upside is that the sacrifices demand a focus on core mechanics - the fundamental actions the player performs to win the game. Since video games are first and foremost meant to be fun it follows that the core mechanic must be fun. This is not an easy problem to solve; fun is most often proved through iteration on the game's design and near-constant tweaks to gameplay - generally not a quick process.

When development is focused exclusively on making a single core mechanic fun, there is a certain purity in the work that I feel is lacking from commercial video game development. (Not to say that commercial video game development is inferior - it's just a different set of challenges.) This purity of focus means that the final product is a game that has no pretensions and no demands on the player other than to enjoy the gameplay; that evident enjoyment is the true reward of game development.

A village of atheletes

The 2010 Olympics are getting much, much closer. So close, I keep forgetting that they haven't already started, if that makes any sense. It's just over two weeks to the opening ceremonies, when everybody will be watching Vancouver.

This would be the place where I say something like: "The excitement is palpable; the air is tingling with anticipation!" but I can't. Those things could be happening... somewhere, but I haven't seen it. Admittedly, no one would really accuse me of having my fingers on the pulse of the city, so I could be missing something.

There is evidence that the Olympics are near though - don't get me wrong. There are lots of temporary structures, road closures, extra transit lines and routes all pointing to 'an event of significant proportions' which is poised to descend on Vancouver.

The clearest and most notable evidence - from my perspective - is the activity around the Olympic Village. My office happens to be a stone's throw from the swanky new development located at the end of False Creek, south of the downtown core. (By the way, it truly is - or will be a village - once the Olympics are over and done with. There are at least seven or so brand new condo buildings and enough living space for some couple thousand people. The future development plans for the immediate vicinity include: a community recreation centre, complete with outdoor fields; a new primary or elementary school; small shopping centres; banking; etc. There will be more amenities and people living there than can be found in the village I grew up in.)

Up to three or four weeks ago, it was still possible to walk along the scenic pedestrian pathway that travels all the way around False Creek and past the Olympic Village. However, with the road closures came tall fences, checkpoints, and a dearth of security guards, all surrounding the Olympic Village. What that means - I expect - is it'll basically be off limits until the athletes have won or lost and have returned to their homes.

I can see why they need to do it. No one would want anyone slightly off their rocker mingling with the athletes. And the athletes themselves will need their privacy during the events - although I suspect that the Village will house a near constant party as the medals start pouring in. I still feel a little disappointed though. It wasn't really until yesterday that I realized the whole Village would be cordoned off - I was looking forward to walking past on my way to and from work, just to see how much the place would be buzzing with the excitement and anticipation of the world's most talented (mostly) amateur athletes. I guess it's not to be, though.