Oh, Canada!

Canadians are people that say "ôt" for "out", "abôt" for "about" and, more importantly, if you bump into them, they will apologise. "How I met your mother" was indeed a good introductory course, the people here couldn't be any friendlier. I'll elaborate further. On my way from Toronto's airport to Waterloo, I boarded a bus which required exact change. I explained the driver I had just landed and had only a $20 bill on me. He waved me in, "say what, I'll let you get in, maybe you can find some change with another guest or, worst case, you get this changed at the end terminal". I had barely managed to get my luggage inside and settled into a seat, a passenger approaches me, asking "hey, I heard you need some change... can I help you with that? How much you need change for?".

A few days later, I took a shuttle from our Institute to the main campus (IQC is located quite far out, so either you drive, or take the complimentary university shuttle from the Research Park to the main central campus). I explained the girl driving where I wanted to go, a few blocks away from the shuttle's designated drop-off point. "If you want, I can drive you ôt, otherwise it's a long wôlk there". Wow, they really say that.
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The first week was filled with, well, first week chores. Registering, signing paperwork, getting acquainted with the group and its different research topics, and, mostly, scouting for a room, as my accommodations here are only temporary. I have some visits lined up for the coming days, keep your fingers crossed.

What else can I say? The Institute for Quantum Computing (IQC) is a top-notch research facility focused on both experimental and theoretical aspects of quantum information-relevant tasks. The atmosphere seems really nice; staff is friendly; and rumours have it, there's even a table tennis table somewhere :) . Unfortunately, the espresso machine broke down two days after I arrived (hmm.. is there a correlation?), and the regular coffee they offer is... americano, to put it in mild terms. There's also free food (!) three times a week during seminars/colloquia which are held at lunchtime, and numerous social events to foster contact between researchers.
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Precisely aiming to network with my fellow peers, I joined the weekly basketball game held Friday evenings in the court which is set in the Institute's parking lot. Sure, I hadn't played since high school, but figured I could at least run back and forth in the field and eventually have some fun. Our team took a beating, and I developed two huge blisters in both feet - apparently, if you're going to be running and jumping around for two hours, proper footwear is required. Duly noted for next week...

Whiskas Travelling Commentary

Besides the obviously different perspectives which one gains from visiting different cities, countries or continents, I typically take travelling as an opportunity to sync up with the newspapers, as the waiting time between flights or trains - combined with the typically unreasonable prices for Internet access found at airports (*) - is best spent with a good read. So why not take this as a chance to present the Grad Line's readers with Whiskas' own take on the events around the world (**) ?
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The headlines on virtually every major German periodic today discuss a change of Obama's opinion related to the construction of a Mosque somewhere close to the former site of the former World Trade Center in southern Manhattan, first supposedly supporting, now apparently denying it. Now, if we take the president's words precisely as the articles themselves put it, he did not put a case for any direction, and only spoke in name of the constitutional right to freedom of speech and religious choice. That the opposition takes anything which can be even vaguely framed as an opinion on the matter as material for a critic should not surprise anyone, but it highlights just how much the Americans are now distant from the ideals that once stood as paramount.

In contrast, one could say the "conservative" Europeans are the ones who are - to a certain extent - setting the example in not becoming religiously-motivated belligerent police States - with support from many discussions about what sort of moral behaviour I should expect were I to go for a States-side visit during my time in Canada. But the second set of headlines we read - on the immense levels of citizen-initiated protests against Google's plans of offering its Street View service - show that such a contrast is only relative, and Europeans still have conservative opinions of their own. Goethe's countrymen appear concerned about their house's façades, streets and parks being made available in digital format for the world to see. While the point could be well taken for the privacy of one's own home, what the perpetrators of such protests wish to protect that would otherwise not be accessible to an ordinary citizen walking and photographing (or painting, or writing, should the extra concerns relate to the digital media storage of such depictions) remains a mystery to me. I had a chance of using Street View when scouting for a place to stay in Waterloo, and, attesting to the usefulness of the service, I should thank all open-minded Canadians of Whatever Street that did not deny their neighbourhood being brought online. Cheers.

Germans can't agree if retirement should take place at 65, 67 or 70 years; and argue if a 50% tax on incomes above 80k a year, brutto, is fairer as a 35% on those over 50k/yr, brutto. They also discuss a new tax on nuclear fuel, which prompts power plant operators to consider shutting them off entirely as this would make them economically non-viable; ironically, were these reactors switched off, the necessary energy to balance the grid would be brought from foreign nuclear plants, from countries where such taxes are not in place, effectively just shifting the issue to a different location.

And more rain is forecast for the coming week, but this should not matter: not because I'll be long gone, but rather for everyone that had their chance to move out long ago (and still have!), but never did (and, as it seems, never will). Weather provides the perfect excuse to keep complaining, making the dark grey skies very fitting.
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The plane was delayed for almost two hours; besides a complimentary newspaper, not a single glass of water was offered for the waiting passengers. Still, we made it to the other side, and while the connections I had written down were then long departed, I managed to follow Nathan's public transport instructions and got to Waterloo just before 11 pm. But that's already another post.
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(*) "Air travel is a joke", reads a t-shirt which I am still to print. The premise that every traveller is a potential terrorist subjects everyone from young children to pregnant mothers and elder citizens to long inspections lines; moreover, commercial pressure allows airlines to deny passengers of not only leg room - already a given when flying Economy - but lately also any sort of snack or beverage. While the need for more profitable passenger-miles can be well understood in times of economic recession, decency should still allow for a regular-sized human to travel with moderate comfort, and any reasonable calculation can show that it is not the few cents saved by sparing a cup of coffee or a can of soda that is going to drive airlines out of the red numbers and into profitable margins.
And then there's the airports. While you can always get decent-priced food, coffee and hotels around any bus or train terminal - in fact, typically the cheapest ones in any given town - airports induce just the opposite, inducing all sorts of "convenience taxes" and what the hell else. I'm still all for paying ten euros or dollars more for a ticket every time I fly, but having access to reasonable-priced internet access, coffee, snacks. And a seat I'll fit, please.

(**) "Every home owner, or even every tenant nails his name plate on the door, like a coat of arms and studies the morning paper as if he were a world leader. (...) [There are] as many small states as there are individuals. And these small states are mobile. Everyone carries his own state with him..."
from Wim Wenders' Der Himmel über Berlin - a great movie, by the way.

Of koalas, taxis, and other Aussie stories

The almost thirteen-hour flight across up to five timezones, which I encounter whenever I fly to Brazil, are nothing in comparison. A total of 26 hours aboard airplanes, first from Frankfurt to Abu Dhabi, then to Singapore, and finally to Brisbane, crossing no less than eight time zones, were a whole new game. But with a bit of planning and appropriately-timed in-flight sleep, I managed to arrive in Brisbane well synchronized with the local time. There, I met my Institute colleagues Benoit and Kaisa at our booked university accommodation, and together we went out to explore the city of Brisbane and its surroundings, culminating with a wonderful swim in the Pacific. The only, barely noticeable manifestation of the dreaded jet lag was found in my early 20.30-ish bedtime. So far, so good.

The conference, which began on Monday, was a great opportunity to put faces to many of the names I had become quite familiar with through journal articles over the last year and a half. Some interesting discussions on all levels, ranging from experimental implementations to theoretical proposals to near-philosophical interpretations of the universe as one huge quantum computer. Found others working on similar topics as mine, exchanged some ideas, received some feedback on my poster's results, and left with a few ideas to work on. In fact, one person who asked a few questions about my poster also happened to be a certain famous taxi-driver-turned-physicist. As luck would have it, I also had a poster about Quantum Taxi Driving - what are the odds of that? :) - which I promptly brought out. After the proper explanations, Tim Ralph posed for a picture, and thus I won my bet with Peter Rohde, who had challenged me, two weeks earlier, to approach his former advisor and start a conversation about taxis. Except for the coffee, which was terrible - I soon resorted to a nearby coffee shop for my daily fix of quality espresso - QCMC was fantastic.

Oh, we also had a mid-conference tour of a Koala sanctuary, which was in fact a fully featured zoo with every possible Australian animal. Played a bit with guinea pigs, kangaroos and even cuddled a koala - but didn't pay the 15 dollar fee for my picture to be taken with them. Still, there are pictures aplenty in the usual place.

With the conference over, joined with Benoit in our plans of checking out the Whitsunday Islands, some 900km further up North. From the launching pad of Airlie Beach, we boarded the 75ft sailboat Habibi for a three-day, two-night cruise of the islands. Unfortunately, the weather gods didn't provide us with the blue-skied backdrop the travel brochures so marvelously depicted, but it doesn't matter. We had a great time sailing, snorkeling amidst the corals, walking the white sands of Whitehaven beach, and also playing card games and drinking cheap wine onboard :) . But the lack of postcard-perfect shots means I'll have to try my luck there sometime again in the future...

Boat trip over, we rushed to the airport for our flight to Sydney, where we arrived late Tuesday evening. We had some sushi in a small Asian eatery and made it back to our hostel, appropriately named "Wake Up!", for a basement rock'n'roll party. Wednesday greeted us with overcast skies and a constant drizzle, but we decided to soldier on and see as much as possible, given our limited time schedule. Again, the shots of the Opera House and its world-famous bridge background weren't nearly as impressive as I'd have liked, but were enough for an "I've been there" kind of proof. We were then guided by a fine gentleman named Arthur, who found us in the tourist shop inside the Opera and took some time to walk us through the main downtown district around Circular Quay, where, after parting ways, we took the ferry to Manly Beach - another wonderful journey which I should definitively undertake some other day in more favorable weather conditions. After dinner in a charming Argentinean tapas restaurant, we met a long-time family friend of mine, Juliano, who has been working in Sydney for over three years now. Now, even though we don't talk so often, there's just something about meeting people - former classmates, family members or long-lost friends - abroad, and finding so much in common to discuss. In spite of the price, which will be discussed in a forthcoming post, viajar é preciso - "traveling is a must".

Thursday presented us with slightly better conditions; we walked through Darling Harbour all the way to the Fish Market, before it was time for me to head back to the hostel to pick my stuff and head to the airport, while Benoit would still enjoy one more day before flying back on Friday.

The direct, westward flight from Sydney to Abu Dhabi didn't fit my sleep schedule so well as the inboud flight, but I still managed to wake up just before landing in Frankfurt, at around 6 am, local time. Suffered the train ride back, was greeted at the station by Monica, and had a pleasant surprise of finding some fresh supplies in my fridge provided by Benjamin. Home, sweet home. The rest of the day went on trying to keep awake, before collapsing around 8 pm and sleeping all the way to 2 am on Saturday (this got better as I woke up just past 4 am on Sunday, and was finally synchronized back to local time on Monday, when I woke up at 6 am).
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Now just one more week, and I'll be boarding again to yet another continent: another six time zones, a new apartment, a new office, and hopefully some new results. Buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, 'cause Erlangen is going bye-bye...

Transatlanticism

The Atlantic was born today and I'll tell you how...
The clouds above opened up and let it out
And thousands upon thousands made an ocean,
Making islands where no island should go.

Death Cab for Cutie sang "Transatlanticism" as I celebrated my 21st time across the Big Water Pond. There, and back again - once again. In fact, it was my 5th time over in less than two years of graduate studies in Germany. No, it's not a routine thing; see the Ausnahmezustand post from a few weeks back. And yet, yes, I have to accept that my life is now here, but I was born there. Just how does one live normally with that?
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That was early May, and I had just flown over to Brazil for my father's 60th birthday party. I flew on a Tuesday, and by Friday I was back home in Erlangen. We're now in July, and I'm about to begin a new series of trips abroad. First, Whiskas is going Down Under - I'll be presenting some results at the Tenth International Conference on Quantum Communication, Measurement and Computation (QCMC), in Brisbane, Austra-li-a. I'll extend my stay for a few days, hoping to get some snorkelling and backpacking before flying back. My time in Erlangen will be kept short, though, as after two weeks I'll be crossing the Atlantic again, this time to Canada, where the Institute for Quantum Computing in Waterloo will host me for a semester abroad. And I should still visit Brazil one more time while there, let's see how that will work out.
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For two days in a row this week, I arrived at the office with a desire for a night at the Mulligan pub with my old gang. No matter how many new friends I have made over here, some people are simply irreplaceable. However, the converse is also true. I've been enjoying great rides while training and racing in company of my teammates; the PhD enjoys favorable winds, and has thus far provided a unique experience allowing me to meet people from all over . In fact, I've recently made a count, and in the course of my PhD, I have made friends from no least than 19 different nationalities and virtually every continent. Yes, it'll be tough to get them all together someday, but maybe it's a small price to pay after all...

Asleep on a Sunbeam, em português

(Click here for the original English version)- - -
(Para a letra da música que intitula este relato, veja o original.)
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Enquanto os alemães celebram sua vitória por um a zero no Tal Negócio de Futebol, uma infinidade de buzinas tocam, uma gritaria generalizada. Mas eu, longe de estar assistindo a partida junto à hordas de tedescos bêbados, estava acompanhando pela rede um evento muito mais interessante: a partida na quadra 18 de Wimbledon entre John Isner e Nicolas Mahut, que, ainda naquele segundo dia, já fazia história como a disputa mais longa da história do tênis, com mais de nove horas de duração.

Naquela mesma tarde, havia treinado com meu colega francês Cédric. Ao longo do nosso trajeto pelos arredores de Erlangen, discutimos como os motoristas estavam particularmente impacientes com nosso pedalar lado-a-lado (a lei aqui ordena que ciclistas andem em fila, mas isto é tipicamente tolerado se não for feito em avenidas ou estradas muito movimentadas). Concluimos que todos estavam tão nervosos pois queriam chegar logo em casa para assistir ao jogo. Futebol - ou talvez o fanatismo a ele associado - arrastam qualquer cultura e civilização a um estado terceiro-mundista desolável. E ainda por cima, todas estas manifestações nacionalistas que, em qualquer outra ocasião, serviriam de pretexto para uma nova Grande Guerra. Aff.

Se estou a torcer pela Alemanha, é somente pois a loja onde comprei meu novo notebook oferece um prêmio/desconto significativo se a seleção nacional retornar vitoriosa - e eu posso, de fato, usar uns euros a mais no meu orçamento. Ainda assim: apesar do meu ódio pelo futebol, sou capaz de dissimular interesse, nesses tempos de copa do mundo, principalmente pela manutenção de interações sociais menos polêmicas. Fora isso, estou cagando e andando.
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Neste último fim-de-semana, conquistei minha primeira vitória em solo europeu. Cronometrei 25m02s no campeonato aberto de contra-relógio de Straubling, pequena cidade às margens do Danúbio, no leste do estado. Pedalei a uma média de 47.2km/h, que foi suficiente para ganhar na Elite - o segundo lugar, Alex Biewald, levou quase um minuto a mais no mesmo trajeto, com 25m58s - mas ainda assim, foi uma vitória com um gostinho amargo, dado que dois atletas da categoria Master fizeram tempos melhores - mesmo que só um punhado de segundos: Jürgen Fuchs, que aparece no ranking como um dos 5 melhores do estado, fez 24m55s, enquanto Karl Aichner (10° lugar no Estadual, quase dois minutos à minha frente naquela ocasião), marcou o melhor tempo do dia: 24m54s.

Mas a corrida mais importante ainda estava por vir. O campeonato regional de contra-relógio da Francônia realizava-se nessa terça-feira. Esperava melhorar meu 3° lugar do ano passado, mas as coisas tomaram outro caminho. A agradável tarde de verão, com temperaturas amenas e tempo seco - ano passado a prova se desenrolou embaixo de chuva - influenciou não só meu tempo, mas também a participação no evento, com quase 180 ciclistas completando o percurso de 15.3km em forma de T, ao sul de Nürnberg. Além das minhas habilidades deficitárias nas duas curvas de 180° do trajeto - derrapei na primeira, e abri demais na segunda, quase entrando calçada adentro - faltou um ritmo mais forte, especialmente no trecho de subida dos últimos quilômetros. Consegui alcançar três ciclistas que largaram na minha frente, e ainda baixei em 18s meu tempo do ano passado (de 21m14s para 20m56s), mas com isso só consegui o 4° lugar, ficando de fora do pódium por 9s. Michael Schultz da equipe de Aichach, que abriu fuga comigo na clássica de Schrobenhausen no início da temporada, levou as honras, com Markus Beck e meu colega de equipe, Christoph Schwedt, completando o top 3.

Nada menos que 76 corredores tiveram médias iguais ou superiores a 40km/h, o que, dado o percurso acidentado em que a prova foi disputada, mostra o calibre do pelotão em uma prova regional típica. Olhando por este lado, minhas performances ao longo das últimas semanas - lançando ataques nas últimas voltas, e seguidas vezes abrindo fugas - não são inteiramente insignificantes. Mas ainda assim, sinto que os resultados não tem correspondido da mesma forma. Ainda preciso melhorar meu posicionamento e minha confiança para andar no meio do pelotão, para só então os resultados ficarem de acordo com aquilo a que as pernas são capazes...
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Passei algum tempo nos últimos dias folheando o Lonely Planet em preparação para minha viagem para a Austrália, daqui a três semanas. Depois da conferência, fico ainda mais uma semana por lá, em companhia de Benoit, colega francês do Instituto. De mochila nas costas, queremos explorar o que for possível neste tempo, que já parece ser demasiado curto. É de qualquer forma muito pouco tempo para atravessar o continente pedalando, e com os custos e incomodações associados ao transporte da bicicleta, não justificaria levá-la somente para uma prova de circuito por lá. Pelo jeito, a bicicleta só vai conhecer a Oceania mais tarde...

Ainda no assunto de viagens inter/transcontinentais, meu projeto de pesquisa para um semestre em Waterloo, Canadá foi aceito no início desta semana. Igualmente, não pretendo levar a(s) bicicleta(s) para lá quando agosto chegar: poucas corridas, e o outono/inverno se aproximando fizeram-me desistir da idéia. Ao invés de pedalar, vou procurar uma academia para malhar durante o inverno - e complementar com outras atividades - um tour de caiaque e algumas longas caminhadas estão nos planos, se o clima permitir.

Para ambas viagens, ainda preciso de uma mochila nova, talvez lentes novas para minha câmera, e alguns outros acessórios. Tantos brinquedos, e só uma bolsa...
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Duas semanas trás, acreditava ter encontrado um argumento muito convincente extendendo uma prova de impossibilidade para uma classe muito maior de estados. Tudo que faltava eram meras formalidades matemáticas, fisicamente tudo parecia fazer perfeito sentido. Esta semana, todos os cálculos parecem sugerir que encontrei uma exceção, e assim esta impossibilidade - na qual todos acreditavam, era dada como fato por todos nas últimas reuniões do grupo - não é verdadeira. Ainda estou no processo de revisão formal para garantir que nada passou desapercebido, mas se o algoritmo que propûs de fato funcionar como imaginado, será uma virada de mesa bem interessante para toda a área de códigos de correção de erro gaussianos...

Com resultados ou não, todavia, ainda tenho a impressão que meu formalismo é raso: tenho novas idéias constantemente, mas não consigo expressá-las propriamente com afirmações matemáticas propriamente definidas - ou ao menos, não com a desenvoltura que eu gostaria. Um paralelo com a situação no ciclismo não é difícil de ser traçado.
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Morando no meu próprio canto, eu às vezes me divirto com a vida de solteiro, com roupas de ciclismo por todos os lados, louça de alguns dias empilhada na cozinha, e isotônicos e cervejas a torto e direito. Mas também me orgulho muito de quão aconchegante e arrumado consigo manter o apartamento quando assim o desejo (ou preciso...). Como é de se esperar, estes dois estados se alternam, em ciclos que ultimamente tem sido de alguns dias para cada um. Igualmente alterno períodos nos quais passo bastante tempo em casa lendo, escrevendo, navegando ou cozinhando - e outros nos quais "casa" é só um lugar para dormir ou trocar de roupas, numa rotina que me leva do treino para o Instituto e de lá para algum bar e fins-de-semana nos quais mal paro em casa, graças a agenda pontuada de corridas...
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A vida que eu tanto esperava, e há tanto planejava. Talvez eu até devesse aproveitá-la um pouco mais... mas a Solidão do Corredor de Meio Fundo é assunto para um outro post.

Asleep on a Sunbeam

(Aos leitores da língua de Saramago, informo que a este post seguir-se-á em breve sua tradução em português)
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Lying here asleep on a sunbeam
I wonder if you realise you fascinate me so

Think about a new destination
If you think you need inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a pin
I will follow every direction
Just lace up your shoes while I'm fetching a sleeping bag, a tent...

Another summer's passing by
All I need is somewhere I can feel the grass beneath my feet
A walk on sand, a fire I can warm my hands
My joy will be complete
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As the Germans celebrate their one-nill score in that Big Soccer Thing, horns abound. But, instead of joining hordes of drunk countrymen in watching the event, I was following live tickers from the much more interesting "Wimbledon Forever" match between Mahut and Isner, which had by then already made history with over nine hours of court time. That was sport.

That same evening, I had gone on a training ride with my French teammate Cédric; along our route through the outskirts of Erlangen, we discussed how the drivers were impatient with our two-abreast riding, and concluded: "everyone is so nervous because they feel they must get home before the match begins". Soccer - or rather the fanaticism associated with it - drags any culture down to the lowest standard possible. And don't get me started on these "nationalist feelings". Phew.

If I am cheering for Germany, is only because the shop from which I bought my new notebook is offering a significant cash-back should the Germans return victorious - and I could really use some extra euros in my budget. In spite of my soccer hatred, I'm able to fake interest pretty well for the sake of social interaction in these World Cup times, but otherwise, I couldn't care less.
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I scored my first victory in European soil this past weekend, stopping the clock at 25m02s in Straubling's open time trial championships. The resulting 47.2km/h average was enough for the first place in the man's Elite class - with second placed Alex Biewald almost a minute behind at 25m58s, but still a bittersweet win as two Masters' riders could better my time - even if only for a handful of seconds: Jürgen Fuchs, a top 5 rider in the state 40+ rankings, managed a 24m55s, while Karl Aichner, who placed 10th and beat me by almost two minutes in the Bavarian Championships, clocked the best time of the day: 24m54s.

The more important race for me was still to come, however: Franconia's time trial championships took place this Tuesday evening. I was looking forward to improving from my 3rd place last year, but it was not to be. The dry, mild early summer weather - compared to last year's rainy 15-ish degrees - had a noticeable influence not only on the times, but also on the turnout, with almost 180 starters for the T-shaped 15.3km course. In addition to my poor handling in the curves - skidding in the first, and overshooting the second 180° turn, I lacked a stronger rhythm in the uphill leg. I did overtake three cyclists which started before me, and still managed to shave 18s over last year's 21m14, but this year a 20m56 was only good for 4th place, missing the podium for 9s. Michael Schultz from Aichach, who I knew from a long breakaway in the Schrobenhausen spring classic, took the honors, with Markus Beck and my teammate Christoph Schwerdt rounding out the top 3.

No less than 76 riders managed a better-than-40km/h average in the quite undulating course, which shows the depth of the fields in a typical local race over here. Through this perspective, my performance over the past few weeks - launching attacks in the final laps, or consistently making the breakaway - is not entirely insignificant, but still, I feel that my results haven't been commensurately matching. There's still a lot of mental work to do before the scoreboards match the legs...
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Spent some time skimming through Lonely Planet's Australia guide in preparation for my upcoming trip down under. Can't make up the best way to explore everything I'd like in just under a week. It's definitively too short for another coast-to-coast cycling challenge; and even if just for one single circuit racing, it's an enormous hassle given the connections and my plans to go backpacking with Benoit. I guess I won't make it with a bicycle there until another later time...

Speaking of intercontinental traveling, the acceptance of my research proposal for a semester in Waterloo, Canada came in earlier this week. But I'm also not planning to fly (any of) the bike(s) over there come August: the sparse racing schedule, and the looming autumn, have discouraged it. Instead, I'll be facing some serious gym time over early winter - in addition to kayaking and hiking trips, weather permitting.

For both these trips, I must still buy myself a new rucksack, maybe some new lenses for my camera, and a few other accessories. So many toys, and just one scholarship...
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Two weeks ago, I believed I had come up with a very convincing argument extending a known impossibility proof to a much wider class of states. All that was missing were minor mathematical formalities; physically it seemed to make complete sense. Today, all calculations suggest I've found an exception and as such, this impossibility proof - in which everyone believed, and was all but settled in several internal group discussions - doesn't hold. A formal review is pending to see if my algorithm indeed works as depicted, but this would be a very interesting turn for the Gaussian quantum error correction tide.

With results or not, however, I still have the feeling that my formalism is shallow; new ideas flow in constantly, but I'm unable to direct them to properly defined mathematical statements - or at least not with the prowess I would like to. A parallel with cycling is not hard to find.
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Living in my own little apartment, I sometimes enjoy my bachelor lifestyle with cycling clothes all over the place, cookware from several days piled in the kitchen, and sports drinks and beers pretty much everywhere. I will also take pride in just how tidily cozy I can make everything when I want to. Predictably, these two states alternate - the cycles have been typically of a few days for each one. I also alternate periods in which I'm very much at home - independently of the apartment being in the organized or disorderly state - and will then extensively read, write, browse or cook - and others in which home is just the place I go for a change of clothes, as I hop from training to the Institute to some bar get-together...
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The life I had long hoped and planned for. Maybe I should even enjoy it some more., but the Loneliness of the Middle Distance Runner is yet another post.

The fallen are the virtuous among us - ou, a teoria dos bens internos de MacIntyre

You've already been and we've already seen
That the fallen are the virtuous among us
Walk among us
Never judge us to be blessed

As linhas acima vem de "The Fallen", da banda escocesa Franz Ferdinand. Há quase um ano, iniciei um rascunho de título muito parecido, onde elaborava: "Not the winners and the glorified, but rather those who've tasted the bitterness of falling, are the ones who carry our times' most true virtues. Or is it?". Neste meio tempo, li "After Virtue", de Alasdair MacIntyre, onde o autor elabora sobre o discurso moral e faz uma análise bastante interessante sobre o papel das virtudes.

Nas últimas semanas, esboçava - mentalmente, devo dizer, travando diálogos comigo a caminho do Instituto - outro rascunho para o blog, onde queria discorrer sobre a competência técnica enquanto mecanismo de validação. Recordei que já havia abordado um assunto semelhante em outro post, e no comentário da Monica a teoria de Csikszentmihalyi me remeteu àquela de MacIntyre, que me levou, por sua vez, ao rascunho com a música de "Fallen". But I digress.

Queria descrever a busca pela competência - na Física, no ciclismo, ou em qualquer outra prática que eu exerça - como sendo um componente fundamental para me sentir pleno. Importante distinguir aqui que não trata-se de uma busca frugal por resultados - que MacIntyre chama de "bens externos", que nas práticas citadas acima seriam talvez publicações em revistas de renome, ou vitórias em corridas prestigiosas - mas sim a busca pela excelência na atividade em si: desenvolver a capacidade de articular um formalismo abstrato, ou exercer a melhor performance possível sobre a bicicleta - os chamados bens internos.

Aqui cabe, então, revisitar o que escrevia há um ano. Talvez ambos, o corredor que, de forma dominante, conquistou a vitória, e o atleta que abandonou a prova ainda nas primeiras voltas, carreguem de forma equivalente os bens internos da prática do ciclismo. Talvez o atleta derrotado - the fallen - tenha sofrido o preço de um resfriado ou uma lesão, ou um erro de estratégia, mas mesmo assim tenha, no caminho percorrido até a disputa daquele evento, feito a melhor preparação possível, estudando o posicionamento sobre a bicicleta, cuidando de sua alimentação, e apreciando cada uma das sofridas sessões de treinamento - e que assim definem seu êxito no esporte. O vencedor, porém, estará potencialmente inebriado com as láureas da fortuna, e pode deixar de reconhecer os bens internos que conquistou. Neste sentido - voltando ao meu esboço anterior - seriam aqueles que tombaram os virtuosos mais verdadeiros, pois teriam somente os bens internos consigo.
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Em tempo. Apesar das últimas semanas quebrando a cabeça atrás de uma teoria que não surge nunca, apesar do recente abandono na última prova - ainda quero outro artigo, ainda espero um pódium nesta temporada. E algumas outras coisinhas mais...