The argument over intercollegiate athletics really boils down to different people’s viewpoints on the purpose of higher education. The European model is much different than the American one. The focus truly is on education and the education you receive is also much more narrowly focused on your field of study.

In the US, however, it gets blurry. Most of the liberal arts and social sciences faculty like to argue that the purpose of college is more intrinsic than just academics; that you are gaining life skills and experience not found elsewhere. At the same institution, the faculty in the engineering department will tell you flat out that they are preparing you with a marketable skillset.  Maybe the reality is that you gain both intrinsic and extrinsic abilities.  In its current state, American higher education means different things to different people. Many students, both athletes and non-athletes, go to school for reasons other than education and it really shows when employers and the media cite statistics about how college grads can’t write or perform simple arithmetic.

I don’t think any one US college student even scratches the surface of what’s available to them during four years of school. Is a formal academic education the main benefit?  I think it depends on who you are.  Should education be the main benefit?  I think so, but you can certainly get a solid education while also being an athlete (or do any other number of things that are available in college).

Monday 4/19/2010

On Monday I did my last run through the paths and trails behind KTH.  I caught up to another guy who was running at a pretty good clip.  We ran together for a bit, but then it was time for me to turn around.

The rest of the day was spent in a classroom at KTH set up by the faculty for those at the conference who were stuck.  In the room, I got some work done and checked the forecasts for the ash cloud.  The cloud had left Scandinavia for the time being, allowing Monday’s Stockholm – Chicago flight to leave, the same flight I was scheduled to take Tuesday.  Another guy I knew from the conference had stopped by and said his mom was able to leave that afternoon on an Icelandair flight to New York.  I took those two things as a good sign, but I was still skeptical that we would be able to leave.

Throughout the conference and the following days, I was quite impressed with the KTH campus.  The lecture halls were very nice with stadium-style seating.  Smaller classrooms provided large desks with plenty of workspace.  With 8,000 undergraduates and 7,000 graduate students, it accounts for nearly a third of Sweden’s university-level education.  It was quite larger than William and Mary, with many large lecture halls we used for the conference sessions, as well as large hi-rise style buildings.  Still, it was condensed into a space much smaller than many U.S. universities of its size.  I have no doubt that the excellent facilities were made possible in part due to generous government funding.

That night, my adviser and I ate at a Thai place down the street from the hotel.  When we returned, we packed everything up and noticed on the airline website that we were supposed to report to the airport by 7AM for check in.  Since it appeared that web check in was disabled, the airline probably wanted everyone at the airport early to check everyone in with plenty of time.

Tuesday 4/20/2010

On Tuesday I awoke at 5:30AM and miraculously discovered that Stockholm Arlanda was open and that our flight was still scheduled to leave.  I emailed Sarah back home that we were heading to the airport and she hadn’t even gone to sleep yet since it wasn’t even midnight.  My adviser and I left the hotel by 6AM.

The sun woke me up nearly every morning during the trip and we gained at least 30 minutes of daylight in the time I was in Stockholm.  There were automatic awnings that would cover the hotel room window in the afternoons and I realized that their purpose was to block the midnight sun during the summer months.  On the day we left, the sun woke me up at 5AM and the night before, it was twilight well after 8PM.

Another interesting note is that everyone in Stockholm seemed to follow the same schedule.  When we left for the airport yesterday at 6AM, there was barely anyone out on the streets.  However, during the conference the week before, when I would go out to run at 7AM, the streets were packed with commuters.  On the weekends, the city and KTH were deserted.  Even the university library was closed on the weekends and nearly empty after 6PM.

We made our way to the subway and then to the high speed airport train, which got us to the airport just before 7AM.  The international terminal had rows of check in counters, all but two were deserted: our flight and a Continental flight.  A TV crew was interviewing a few sparse passengers about the crisis.  Fortunately, unlike the massive Continental check-in line, our line was much shorter.  Apparently, many booked on our flight were Swedes who decided to stay home.

After being issued boarding passes, we hung out in the deserted gate area.  My adviser and I talked to a guy sitting next to us who worked for a company that produces industrial-grade robots and sensors.

Amazingly, we got on the plane and it left within 30 minutes of its scheduled departure time.  There were plenty of open seats and I was able to get a nice window seat with nobody sitting next to me.  There was plenty of legroom again, which made the 9 hour flight bearable.  The pilot announced that we passed over 100km from the volcano, but nobody could see anything out the window.  We passed over Norway, Iceland, Greenland, and Labrador, all of which consisted of rock, snow, and ice.  We passed over so much snow and rock, it made me realize how much of the world is probably uninhabitable and how fortunate I am to live somewhere relatively warm.

Though we left late, we arrived in Chicago only a few minutes after our scheduled landing time.  We had less than an hour and a half for our connection to Norfolk.  I rushed through immigration and customs and got on the train to the main United terminal since I had no boarding pass for the next flight.  Once in the main terminal, I tried to check in using an automated kiosk, which told me to see an agent.  After several minutes in line and little time left before the flight departed, I got to see agent.  The agents were interested to hear firsthand what it was like in Europe and Scandinavia.  When I got my boarding pass, I realized it was at a gate at a faraway concourse and ran with my bags for what seemed like a mile and a half to one of the last gates in the terminal.  With the clock ticking down, I raced around people in the jammed terminal passing gate after gate until I finally got to the Norfolk flight.

Oddly, when I got to the gate, my adviser was already there.  He had told me to go ahead after leaving the Stockholm flight because immigration might be slow.  Apparently, there was another check-in desk for United in the arrival hall for the international terminal, which would have sped things up for me.  Regardless, we both made the Norfolk flight, and by yesterday evening, I was home.

Sarah came to pick me up and on the way home I realized how nice the weather was: warm sun and leaves on the trees with green everywhere.  On the national news, there was coverage of people stuck in airports in Europe and in the United States, but more flights were running.

Overall, it was a good trip.  The conference went very well and I saw many good presentations relevant to my field.  I met a lot of new people from everywhere, and I saw a lot of Stockholm.  I really liked Stockholm — except for the cold, I could see myself living there, which is saying a lot since I don’t really want to live in a city.  The excellent infrastructure with subways, high-speed trains, fast and cheap internet, separated bike lanes, and large parks made Stockholm very appealing.  The people were very friendly and accommodating to visitors.

The getting stuck part was frustrating, but as evidenced by the news, it could have been much worse.  There are many others who are still stranded, but hopefully everyone will be back where they want to be soon.  I think a few things happened that really saved the day: 1) not booking any connecting flights in Europe, 2) using Skype to call the U.S. airline reservation number immediately after hearing the news about the volcano to get a new flight, 3) sticking to the rebooked flight and not attempting to take a train or bus to another airport in Europe, and 4) getting lucky with the ash cloud in Scandinavia.  Skype was a real help since we had no working mobile phone and international calls were cheap.

As my adviser and I discussed, this trip is one we’ll remember for quite some time.

Yesterday, we took a trip to the Vasa Museum, which houses an absolutely massive wooden warship.  The ship was built by Sweden in the 1600s in its fight against Poland and sank as soon as it put out to sea.  It was recovered in the 1950s and restored over a 20 year period before being placed inside the museum.

I’ve seen plenty of wooden sailing ships at home, most were very small, but the Vasa is a giant.  Its size was probably part of the reason for its downfall — the prevailing argument is that it was too top heavy and did not have enough ballast.  From the keel to the top of the mainmast must be well over 100 feet: the ship seems like the Spruce Goose of its time.

Last night I went out with more stuck conference attendees to a bar near the waterfront.  The average price was about $10/pint, but “pints” here are a noticeably larger 0.5L (16.9oz), not 12oz as in the United States.  The place I went to had a large selection of beers, but not too many I hadn’t heard of.

Today we went out to the Royal Palace, meeting up with Alexandra, but this time we saw the changing of the guard, toured the insides of the palace, and the crown jewels.  Interestingly, the woman operating the ticket office commented on my William and Mary ID, for it seems the concept of royalty has a different meaning in places that have monarchs.  The changing of the guard involved a military marching band playing a few songs and marching around.  The Royal Apartments were ornate, but were no Versailles, although a room in the Royal Palace was modeled after the Hall of Mirrors.  The Treasury, which contained some of the crown jewels, was most interesting, with a guide explaining the historical significance of different crowns, maces, and orbs.

Since Alexandra was also stuck here with a canceled flight, we walked back to the train station to see if she could get a ticket back in the direction towards her school.  She estimated the travel time would be about 30 hours.  The train station in Stockholm was packed, with the ticket office handing out numbers to those who wanted to purchase tickets.  The line was probably several hours long, so we just left.  More than likely, trains towards Copenhagen were sold out for several days.  It’s fortunate that Europe has the rail system it does, for if air travel was stopped in the United States for more than a few days, it would be much worse.

Later, we went back over towards where the Vasa museum was to find the zoo.  We circled around it but could not find a way in.  Finally, when we reached the entrance, it was 10 minutes from closing.  We walked back along the waterfront and I headed back to the hotel.

While I was out today, I ran into several people from the conference.  I saw one guy from the hotel who mentioned that he knew of people heading south into Spain or Morocco to fly to South Africa and then catch a flight from there to the United States.  I ran into some others from the University of Illinois in a grocery store who predicted the winds would shift just in time to allow their Thursday flight to leave.

At this point, we will wait and see what happens with our scheduled Tuesday flight.  If it doesn’t go, then we will probably start to think about alternatives.  A group from the conference is considering chartering a bus to Madrid, but their airspace has been closed intermittently and I’ve heard the hotels there are booked solid.  There is also a ferry that runs from Denmark to Iceland: we could take a train to Denmark, take the ferry to Iceland, and fly back home from there.  Surprisingly, Iceland’s airport is allowing flights to and from the United States.

If we do consider finding an alternate route home, we will have to consider the costs of leaving a city that we know well with residents that speak good English and are pretty tolerant of foreigners.  We also have to consider the probability of something else going wrong when traveling overland long distances, connecting on different trains or even buses.  Bus and especially rail routes are extremely packed because of all that’s happened, with many being sold out for days.  By the time we travel a week and a half to get home via land and sea, the airspace may have opened up anyway.

At this point, time is starting to pass.  I haven’t done any work and I really should, at least to keep my mind off of being stuck here.  My adviser and I may go to KTH to find an office and get something done.  At the end of the week I am supposed to meet with my fiancee and the pastor for our wedding but I might not be able to go.  I wonder what would happen if I were stuck here for months or even for the rest of my life (I’m sure this won’t happen, but I am thinking hypothetically).  However, my sister has lived abroad for quite some time, so I’m sure I could adapt like she has.

Day 1: Saturday 4/10/2010

When I arrived in Norfolk, there was a mix up at the ticket counter – the web check-in boarding pass I printed the day before was invalid and it took some work for the ticket agent to print a new one.  When we arrived in Chicago that afternoon, it was a very long trip from the B concourse island to the international terminal.  We had to go under the ramp, into the main terminal, and take a train to the international terminal, a good 15 or 20 minutes.  Fortunately, the terminal was not busy and we were able to check in at the SAS counter without any issues.

The TSA agent checking my boarding pass at the O’Hare International Terminal commented about me being from Virginia; she said she had never been there.  When I travel to other parts of the country, I always get interesting comments from the locals about me being from Virginia.  In Palo Alto, a waitress commented that it was cold in Virginia, when at the time I remember it was really much warmer at home than in Silicon Valley.  When in Gloucester visiting an old roommate, I got a comment from his neighbor that I was from “Virginny.”  I’ve also heard another Massachusetts resident (who attends school at William and Mary) refer to “Virginny,” as well.  Hollywood always portrays Virginians with thick backcountry accents when the reality is nothing of the sort.  Some have the Tidewater accent, but it’s unnoticeable to the untrained ear.

Also, there were no restaurants in the O’Hare International terminal: 8 bucks for a pre-made sandwich.  Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long until the Stockholm flight departed.  I noticed that nearly everyone waiting was Swedish, for there were no blue American passports that I could see.  Once on the plane, I realized we lucked out on the seat assignments and got extra legroom since we were just behind the premium economy section.

On the flights, my adviser and I talked about the direction of my career in school and afterwards.  Placement at a faculty job would probably require more time in school, perhaps up to another year, while a research lab may require less.  It’s all about gaining enough experience to do what you want to do.  It was interesting to talk to him about the possibilities since he has experience in both industry and academia.  Both have benefits and drawbacks and there is no way I want to close the door on any particular track just yet.  Just this week I talked with some other students in our department about the time required to complete a Ph.D., and those Master’s students involved in the discussion were wary of spending years in school to graduate.  I would not be opposed to spending another two years in school as long as I worked hard enough to get some good papers published in the hope that I could get a good faculty position at a research university.  From the looks of it, I have plenty of time to think about it and decide.

Day 2: Sunday 4/11/2010

As usual, I didn’t sleep much on the plane, only short bouts of 10 or 20 minutes.  The sun came up quickly and the clouds parted, giving us a view of jagged mountains and snow and little sign of life.  Before landing, the ground was covered up again by thick fog, which we soon descended into.

Though it was 7:30 in the morning, the airport was almost completely deserted.  Immigration and customs was a breeze considering we were the only flight arriving at the time.  A high speed train took us from the airport to the Stockholm Central terminal; a speedometer read well over 200kph as trees and buildings flew by.  I doubt any train at home travels anywhere near that fast.  From the train terminal, we took a subway two stops until we were near the hotel.   One thing I found odd was that the subway tickets had to be purchased from one of several convenience stores surrounding the subway entrance.  In the subway terminal, there were no ticket machines or windows and no signs indicating where tickets could be bought.  Instead, we had to ask someone at the entrance looking for freeriders where we could purchase tickets.

The city was mostly deserted, though it was a Sunday.  Stores were closed and nearly nobody was on the subway or walking around on the streets.  Even the school where the conference was to be held was nearly empty of students with the library closed.  Weatherwise, the day started out cloudy but later the sun came out, with temperatures in the lower 40s – pretty much a December or January day at home.  It’s a good thing I brought my heavy coat.

The hotel had a room available as soon as we arrived, which was surprising since it was only 9 in the morning.  My adviser and I slept for a few hours and then headed out in the afternoon, exploring Gamla stan and the area around the conference.  We walked by the parliament building and the Stockholm Palace, taking a ton of pictures.

To me, it seemed as if everyone was pretending that the weather was nice.  People at coffee shops sat outside at tables, wearing winter coats while being punished by the wind.  Others stood in lines at ice cream stands, despite the 40 degree weather.  Plenty more were out running and biking.  I suppose weather can be much worse in Stockholm.

The crowds picked up some in the afternoon, but there were few restaurants around our hotel so we settled on a Mongolian BBQ place.  I’ve been to similar places at home, but in the brief time I’ve been here there wasn’t anything interesting that caught my eye.  Just the usual McDonald’s and a few other places labeled “American Grill,” or “Steakhouse.”  I travel thousands of miles to get away from American food, among other things, but it seems I can’t escape it.

Day 3: Monday 4/12/2010

Though sleep was better than the previous night, I still had trouble.  I almost never sleep well on trips since it’s always hard for me to adjust to new environments.  I got up before 7AM and went out for a run beyond the university where the conference was, noticing there was a large park I could check out, so I headed that way and was surprised.  City blocks now packed with commuter traffic and sidewalks packed with people suddenly gave way to a vast forest with tons of dirt trails.  Plenty of other people were out running and biking.

I tooled around on the trails for awhile and headed back.  I was surprised that traffic would stop even if it looked like I was about to cross the street.   In addition to the trails, there were large paved paths with marked lanes for bikes and pedestrians.  Sweden seems to have solved the bike path problem so prevalent in the United States.  By making the paths wider and by separating pedestrians and cyclists, cyclists can cruise the bike paths without having to dodge pedestrians.  In the city, sections of curb separated bike lanes from vehicle traffic, also decreasing the chance of a bicycle accident.

On Monday, there were a handful of workshops; I attended one on “Cooperating Objects,” which appears to be a new buzzword in the embedded/sensor networks community.  A few people spoke about event detection and machine learning, with ideas similar to my research.  There were easily several hundred people, much more than at previous conferences I attended, people from all over the world.

At the reception Monday evening, I met Alexandra from Romania, who attended school in Slovenia.  It was interesting talking to her, considering that we are from very different and faraway places, yet we work in the same field.  We hung out quite a bit between breaks throughout much of the conference and through her I was introduced to a few others from Eastern Europe.  At school, it can feel very insular with few people to share your work and ideas with, but at a place like this, everybody is doing the same thing, and they come from everywhere.

Day 4: Tuesday 4/13/2010

Tuesday was a long one.  I was up at 6:30 to run, with plenty of daylight.  I explored a different part of the park than before, but ended up by a factory.  I’m still surprised at the number of trails in the city.

The plenary speaker seemed to be more of a biologist, speaking about human and animal brains as a control system.  There were quite a few talks in IPSN about machine learning and/or event detection so it was interesting to see others’ approaches to similar problems.  Later on, there was a poster and demo session which lasted until nearly 7:30 at night.

During the poster/demo session, I met a guy from the University of Utah which had concocted a sort of “x-ray” vision with 802.15.4 radios – I remember reading about this on the internet a few months ago.  Link quality between radios would change due to people moving about in the room, and with enough links, the moving people could be localized.  Apparently, his paper based on this was rejected mostly because nobody believed it.

Day 4: Wednesday 4/14/2010

On Wednesday, I hit the motherlode for trails when out on my run.  On previous runs I seemed to hit dead ends – running into roads, office buildings, or even factories, but today I found a trail that took me out to the rest of the park.  There were plenty more trails and open space by the time I had to turn around.  It was also sunny right from the start instead of morning fog.

The IPSN tracks were pretty interesting, again with a few on event detection and machine learning.   One group took a twist with a technique I used in my paper that I hadn’t thought of.  I also went to the CPS conference sensor network track, but didn’t really see too much differences compared with the typical sensor network research.

Day 5: Thursday 4/15/2010

I ran again in the morning, out to all the new trails I found the day before.  Unfortunately, the clouds returned.  At the conference, my adviser’s adviser, Jack Stankovic, was the plenary speaker.  During his talk, he used the example of a storm in Chicago as a reference to real time job scheduling.  The next day, I was supposed to return home via Chicago – hearing about any airline problem in Chicago was the last thing I wanted to think about.   This example eerily foreshadowed the problems to come for my return flights (through Chicago).

There were a few other sessions in the IPSN track that were interesting – at least one other event detection paper that was related to my work.  Then, in the afternoon, it was time for my presentation.  Since I was in the sensor networks track of RTAS, most people were in the concurrent IPSN track, so I didn’t get a huge audience.

Just before the presentation, I found out about the ash cloud coming from Iceland.  One of the other people in the room mentioned about flying back through Chicago the next day, as were my adviser and I.  He then mentioned something about maybe not getting back, and that’s when I found out about the ash cloud causing a huge mess in the UK and northern Europe.  It was headed to Sweden next.

With this on my mind, it was my turn to present.  I thought I did reasonably well and finished on time, except that I rearranged my slides just before the presentation and wound up having a backup slide placed ahead of my last slide, causing me to skip through it.

Following my presentation, my adviser and I locked ourselves in a discussion room in the university library and proceeded to call the airline reservation number to get a new booking.  The earliest we could get was the following Tuesday, over four days away.  Weather reports stated that the cloud might stay for days or weeks.  I walked back to the hotel and extended the hotel reservation until Tuesday while in the lobby other conference attendees scrambled to adjust their plans.

At the very least, I’ll get to see more of Stockholm and Sweden, though the weather isn’t supposed to hold up.  Fortunately for this week it has been fairly warm and sunny.  We’ll have to take it day by day to see if the ash cloud will dissipate enough to allow us to go home.  If Tuesday comes and goes and there’s no sign of the cloud letting up, it might be worth a try to head south via train or bus through Denmark to somewhere where I can fly out.

Unfortunately, in 2006, the school president at the time decided not to protest the NCAA’s ruling that the feathered logo was offensive.  Without any prior complaints, the NCAA decided on its own to review the logo and the use of the word “Tribe”.  I recall the local media interviewing the state recognized Native American tribes, finding that none of the tribes found the feathers or “Tribe” offensive.  While the NCAA permitted “Tribe” to remain, it threatened sanctions if the feathers were not removed.  The school president could have chosen to stand and fight the NCAA, but caved to the demands instead, leading to the featherless interim logo, and finally, in 2007, the design of the “WordArt” logo.  A weak design begotten from weak leadership.

Also this week, the college athletics department announced the new mascot, hopefully ending several years of controversy which began with the logo.  For a few years, there was Colonel Ebirt, a caricature of colonial attire, but it was retired soon after the logo brouhaha began.  ”Tribe” is pretty ambiguous, and neither my teammates nor I cared that we were without a true mascot.  ”Tribe” by itself seemed more to symbolize the members of the school better than any mascot could.  Screaming it before the start of a race reminded me that I wouldn’t be alone in the suffering to come.

The new mascot, a griffin, was narrowed down from a possible six, but I’m sure just about any of the choices would inflame much of the student body.  I bet the pug was included as a strawman so that anyone complaining would say, “at least it’s better than the pug.”  I’m not sure how a griffin will fit in with “Tribe.”  A tribe of griffins?  As with the logo controversy, it’s more about change for the sake of change instead of leaving well enough alone.  It reminds me of a great quote from Calvin and Hobbes: “A good compromise leaves everyone mad.”

Today marks the first time since my knee surgery, nearly a year and a half ago, that I’ve run for seven consecutive days.  The last time I ran six days in a row was at the beginning of September, and I felt awful by the end of that streak.  From mid-August to the beginning of September, I ran about five or six days in a row and then took the other days on the bike to try to alleviate the completely trashed feeling from running.  By the end of September, I had been running about six miles on the days I ran and started to feel more smooth doing it, but I was still pretty beat up.

Part of the beat up feeling was more than likely due to me favoring my non-surgery leg when running.  I had been fighting an adductor strain on my right leg that gradually got worse until I was unable to walk without limping.  While my left knee felt fine, my right leg hurt just about everywhere.  At first, I thought it was just the humidity, but as the summer ended, the problems persisted, and I was forced to stop running at the beginning of October. From then until the beginning of December I spent most of the time on the bike, with a few botched attempts at running once my thigh problems calmed down.  However, within the last few weeks I’ve been able to restart running while keeping everything under control.  With the introduction of cold weather, it’s a lot easier to run than bike, despite buying warmer clothes to ride in the cold and rain.

At this point, I’m certain that I’ll never feel as good running as I did when I was on my college team.  On the team, even on the worst days after a race or hard workout, I still felt light on my feet and able to cruise through a 10-15 mile run without thinking.  Today, each step I take is a considerable effort, like I have to drag myself through five or six miles.  Comparing how I felt when running on the team with how it feels now reminds me of a passage in Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon. A character in the book compares the power of a bandsaw to other saws and a Vickers machine gun to other firearms:

[T]he most noteworthy thing about the bandsaw was that you could cut anything with it and not only did it do the job quickly and coolly but it didn’t seem to notice that it was doing anything. It wasn’t even aware that a human being was sliding a great big chunk of stuff through it. It never slowed down. Never heated up.

Guns could fire bullets all right, but they kicked back and heated up, got dirty, and jammed eventually. They could fire bullets in other words, but it was a big deal for them, it placed a certain amount of stress on them, and they could not take that stress forever. But the Vickers in the back of this truck was to other guns as the bandsaw was to other saws. The Vickers was water-cooled. It actually had a fucking radiator on it. It had infrastructure, just like the bandsaw, and a whole crew of technicians to fuss over it. But once the damn thing was up and running, it could fire continuously for days as long as people kept scurrying up to it with more belts of ammunition.

Before my surgery and when I was on the team, it was as if I could just go forever and chew through any workout or race, “firing continuously for days.”  I never slowed down and rarely heated up.  There were limits, of course, but reaching them required hundred mile weeks, punishing pace runs, and draining interval workouts.  Like the Vickers, there was also quite the support infrastructure of coaches, trainers, and teammates.  But now only running a few miles is “a big deal” for me.  It places quite a bit of stress on me, though it is easier than in the late summer.  I’m quite sure I’ll have to spend a lot more time on the bike, but maybe I’ll get to the point where I’ll want to run a race.

With respect to school, I’ll be travelling to Stockholm in April to present a paper at RTAS.  I’ve been working on several projects related to event detection with accuracy guarantees, which will probably form the basis for my thesis.  I also went to RTSS in Washington, DC two weeks ago, but only a few tracks were on wireless sensor networks, but most were about job scheduling and cache replacement policies with the latest multi-core architectures.  I’ll also be starting a project with mobile phones with a few other students in our department, which should be interesting.  The traditional concept of wireless sensor networks entails small devices with cheap sensors and the processing power of a scientific calculator.  However, mobile phones have considerably more power as well as onboard sensors and have more potential for practical applications that people would actually use.

It’s interesting that I spend much of my time writing, creating presentations, and sketching out designs and high-level solutions.  About half of my time is actually spent programming.  It’s probably a good thing since it gives me a balance between different tasks.  Writing papers and creating presentations can be tedious since it can be difficult to cram in months of work into a short paper or presentation.  It’s also difficult to create a good balance of high-level descriptions and details to keep people interested but not get confused.  When working with a small group of people on a project for a long time, it’s easy to get stuck in a box and not consider things that outsiders would see as obvious.  Working with a few other students on my next project should help with this.

It’s when I run into my old teammates that I realize that despite being in the same town and same school that things are really different.  One of my teammates got married a few weeks ago and at the wedding, it really hit home that I’m living in a new era.  We’re no longer kids.  School has taken on a whole new meaning.  My relationship with my longtime girlfriend has also taken on a new meaning.  Many of the people and the places are the same, but life is different.

The rise in tuition for public higher education is coming from two directions: reduction in state funding and increases in administrative costs.  Both government and individuals no longer see the benefit of higher education.  At the government level, governors and legislators have put higher education on the back burner while focusing on nebulous agendas such as “job creation.”  At the individual level, students no longer see education as a priority when attending college; it’s now about the “experience”, prompting administrative bloat to handle the demand for more university-run social programs.

The most obvious cause of tuition increases comes from the never ending cuts in state funding.  With UVA and William and Mary receiving a respective 6 and 13% of total income from state sources, it’s hard to believe they are considered state schools.  As state revenue sources have dried up, the state government has decided that higher education is no longer a priority.  Emphasis in the fall elections are on the economy and the environment, not learning.  Specific issues include vague terms such as “job creation” and “sustainability”, as well as more concrete problems like transportation and K-12 education.  Higher education is hardly mentioned.  It’s assumed that regardless of the winner this fall, state funding will continue to dwindle for “publicly funded” colleges, ensuring de facto privatization.

William and Mary placed fourth on the Forbes Best Public Colleges ranking for 2009.  Contributing to this are its small class sizes, nearly all of which are taught by professors.  Because of this, professors who are leaders in their fields are readily available to students of all levels.  It is the small school size, relative intimacy between the faculty and students, and enthusiasm exhibited by students and professors alike that make William and Mary what it is.  As funding is cut, education quality will suffer.  Tenured professors will leave for higher paying jobs.  Class sizes will increase and will be taught by less qualified instructors and grad students.  Consequently, good students will look elsewhere for a solid education.  Until the state government decides to make higher education a priority, the future of public colleges in Virginia is doomed.

Falling in lockstep with the state government, college officials and students alike are de-emphasizing the value of a college education, leading to further cost increases.  While reduction in state funding is well known, it’s the administrative cost increases that are the most unnerving.  It’s a real kick in the face to hear the budget situation at William and Mary described as “deadly serious” while administrative costs have increased by $5 million from last year.  Next to several articles about the latest round of state funding cuts is a piece on yet another new administrative position: a full time employee in the Committee on Sustainability. I can’t see how “helping to streamline and facilitate the College’s ecological ambitions” provides any benefit to students in terms of attaining a degree and starting a meaningful career.  It’s but another brick in the wall of tuition increases, and it’s all because even students and staff no longer consider education a priority.

In the past 20 years, colleges added more full time administrative jobs than teaching jobs, with positions in areas such as the aforementioned sustainability office, counseling, admissions staff, and social programs.  College seems to be no longer about getting a degree and using newfound expertise to get a job or make an impact.  Today, college is becoming some kind of fantasy camp, with students surrounded by an increasing number of staff whose job it is to keep them entertained.  It’s no wonder that many recent graduates just wind up flipping burgers since the emphasis isn’t on learning anymore, but on some kind of poorly defined college experience.  Regardless, more and more people are willing to pay for that four year fantasy camp despite the lack of increased education or income once they graduate.  When students place their education first and experience later, perhaps tuition will become more affordable.

How can the brakes be applied to the out of control tuition increases?  The answer lies in reprioritizing education above more nebulous concerns.  The current governor and gubernatorial candidates have been yakking on and on about reviving the economy.  What better way to do that then to provide more affordable higher education?  More affordable college education will yield a larger pool of graduates ready to make significant contributions to the economy.  The state government has direct control over this and the answer is clear: restore state funding.  Until then, the Boards of Visitors at state schools can raise in-state tuition to near out-of-state levels, accounting for the tiny difference in state funding.  Since many legislators want in-state students to get even more privileges, such a move will be quite the wake up call to the state government.

On the flip side, students must also reorganize their priorities.  Without placing education first, students will simply fall back to meaningless jobs with low pay and low contribution to society.  Students must realize that the flood of social programs, support staff, and spanking new facilities is meaningless compared to studying hard and earning a degree in a valuable field.  In order to rein in costs, students must demand fewer frills while demanding more elements of a high quality education.

If the current trends run their course, the college bubble may become a reality, forcing a massive decline in the quality of higher education.  Students will not pay out the nose for overloaded classes, terrible instructors, and few course options.  Four years in such conditions will provide no benefit in terms of education or job skills.  The best solution is for government and individuals alike to reprioritize higher education.

Years ago, the biggest road race in the area was the Shamrock marathon and 8k with a modest entry fee.  The turnout was smaller, but the fastest finishing times were still comparable to today.  Recently, the local running club handed over control of the Shamrock to a for-profit company.  Volunteers were replaced by paid staff.  Prize money for elite finishers was increased.  What was a well organized regional race was turned into a full blown production with all the frills.  Consequently, entry fees skyrocketed.  The hype induced a similar increase in turnout.  However, the fastest finishing times also only showed marginal improvement.

What does the average runner stand to gain by paying $90 for a race?  As bad as $90 sounds, it was only the registration fee several months in advance of the race; the fee increased to $110 three months before.  So, does that $90 get you better competition?  At a smaller (and probably cheaper) race, there may be fewer runners, but the average half marathon runner will still find plenty of people to try and chase down.  Is the $90 worth the dry-fit t-shirt or extra junk that comes in the race packet?  Maybe the finishing medal is better.  Or, maybe the experience is somehow intrinsically better just because the race was expensive.  Clearly, the average runner stands little to gain by running in a large scale production-style road race orchestrated by a for-profit company rather than running in a local road race staffed by volunteers.  Somehow, people still pay anyway and all the backhanded marketing hype draws them in record numbers like mosquitoes to a bug zapper.

The increased registration fees only really benefit two groups: the elite runners, and of course, the organizers.  With increased entry fees at large races, elite runners are often provided with free travel and hotel rooms.  Naturally, they don’t have to pay an entry fee while the increased costs to all other participants provide a larger pile of prize money to the elites.  That $90 provided by 20,000 participants also does well in providing the organizers with a nice chunk of change.  Those who were once volunteers and provided a great service to the community are now ransacking their fellow runners’ wallets for every last dollar.

It’s bad enough that the registration fee is so high for many of these races.  It’s even worse that these high profile races don’t even allow registration transfers in case of injury, lack of training, or sudden employer-mandated travel plans.  As a result, some strange things happen as people struggle to cope with a significant monetary loss.  Some will trade numbers under the table, throwing off the results when a supposed 55 year old blows away the masters division with a near record time.  Others who didn’t prepare or who suffered an injury may force themselves out on the course and punish themselves because they want to get their money’s worth.  Others still may decide not to run altogether, leaving several thousand non-starts that could have been filled with ready participants.

I could never justify the cost of such a race, even after I had recently exhausted my college eligibility and was looking for races to run.  I had considered slapping down a few massive entrance fees to run a few half marathons or marathons.  Before I got that far, my knee gave out.  It just isn’t worth it to fork over the $90+ for a race several months in advance that I might not be able to run because of injury.  To me, it’s not the hype or the junk that comes in the race packet.  It really isn’t even about the competition anymore.  If my knee were to withstand a race, I would do it only for enjoyment and I don’t think I need to pay $90 to get that.  Even if I had to pay for all of my college races, I don’t know if I could justify the cost if I had to pay extortionist entry fees at each one.  I can get much more than $90 worth of enjoyment just by running on my own.

When I ran competitively, I only paid for a handful of races, most of them when I was unattached in college.  I think I paid $15 for a cross country invitational at UVA, another $15 to run a 3k at George Mason, and about $50 to run the 5k at Penn Relays.  That $50 at Penn Relays got me in a race with plenty of competition, including Alan Webb, who ran 13:30.  I ran about a minute slower, just barely getting lapped by him at the end, but it was him and the other runners that helped me drag myself around the track towards the end.   In that case, the extra costs of the entrance fee and travel may have been worthwhile, but such cases are outliers.  Today, I’m no different than the average recreational runner and I don’t have to pay $50 – $75 more and travel hundreds of miles to race when similar competition could be found right where I live.  That is, if it’s competition I want.

I consider myself very fortunate to have crossed paths with people who found that satisfaction didn’t always come from making money.  I had high school and college coaches that gave most of their time to me despite earning little or no money.  I ran plenty of local road races staffed by volunteers who came just because they loved to be there.  It was this passion that came from people like these that helped me go a long way with my running career.  Ironically, it was from the same people that I realized I could never run professionally.  Like someone who forks over $90 for a race, there would be too much external pressure from a sponsor to run through injuries, train harder than I felt comfortable, and to turn a daily release into a daily grind.  Money and love don’t always mix.

It appears as though things that were once steeped in intrinsic value are falling to the marketers.  Road racing is only one example.  Even coaching for these expensive races is now being offered at an equivalently steep price.  Those who once freely gave their time and effort are now turning their passions into profit, raking fellow enthusiasts over the coals.  Those who may have run for pure enjoyment are now forking over cash to attend pre-race expos, get race packets stuffed with “free samples”, and get hyped with bands blasting music along the race course.  It’s one less thing that’s done because it’s fun.  It’s one more thing done only for the money.

Fortunately, the drive was mostly unused and had nothing really useful in it, while most everything remained safe on the primary WD Raptor.  The really important stuff is already backed up on my network drive or on my department disk space, so if anything else blows up I’ll still be okay.  When I removed the offending drive and tried to boot, only the power supply and CPU fans started spinning, leaving me with only a blank screen.  Somehow I managed to have unseated the video card from its connection to the motherboard and after I reseated it, everything returned to normal.

Quite a few people try to salvage failing computer components, but I don’t think it’s worth it.  The main idea is to patch stuff up just enough to transfer off any important data.  There’s the legend of  sticking the drive in the freezer overnight to get it working again.  Someone even got their video card working by baking it in the oven.  The fear of losing data is so great to some that there even exists a sound library of hard drive failures.

I don’t think my computer has much life left in it.  I don’t want to switch to my laptop for everything since it only has a VGA output and no digital connection, rendering my monitor useless.  I suppose I could get a docking station, but I can’t believe that Lenovo still makes laptops without digital outputs for external monitors.  Despite buying it last year, it even came with a pile of serial ports, a dial-up modem, and a PCMCIA slot that nobody would ever use.  A new desktop would be good for games but that was the purpose of buying an Xbox, and besides, high end desktops are still pretty expensive.  Of course something beefy would also be good for my schoolwork, since the last two projects had implementations that were extremely CPU intensive.

Regardless, I think I’m running on borrowed time.

A local study says that almost one third of young professional Williamsburg residents intend to leave within four years.  Although those polled stated that they liked the area, the main complaint was that the cost of living was too high and average pay was too low.  This area just isn’t geared towards younger people, especially those who are recent college graduates.  Instead, Williamsburg is focused on retirees and tourists, and those that aren’t in those groups get gassed.

Why?  Because those in the local government are mostly older or retired and own businesses that cater to tourists.  And who elects them?  A dominant contingent of older workers and retirees.  Since the most of Williamsburg thinks that anyone under the age of 30 is a nuisance, the government reflects this position.  The government and locals protest any affordable or student-oriented housing.  An effort is made by the city to prevent homeowners from renting out their properties.  The noise ordinances have been strengthened.  And of course, there’s the arcane three person rule, which effectively limits housing options for young professionals with a low income.  As a student or young professional, you either live elsewhere or live with four or more people illegally.  You just hope city officials don’t sue you or randomly inspect your residence to see if more than three unrelated people are living together.  The city council even wants to remove the 24 hour warning before inspectors show up at your residence.  What happened to the fourth amendment?

Younger people come to live in Williamsburg in two ways.  They either grew up here or graduated from William and Mary with a local job offer.  I’m more of the second category: I don’t think anyone my age would willingly move to Williamsburg unless they had existing ties here.  The environment is just too oppressive for most people my age, with plenty of animosity.

Anyone would think that a grassroots effort could be made to at least get more student friendly officials in local government.  It’s hard to do that when the voter registrar blocks student voter applications.  Recently, the registrar allowed students to register in Williamsburg, which allowed a student candidate to run for office, but enough AARP members went to the polls to ruin his day.

So here in Williamsburg, most people get what they want out of their government: preventing fewer students and younger professionals from living within the city limits.

A similar situation exists with another local government I am familiar with: Virginia Beach.  An overwhelming majority of Virginia Beach residents hate cyclists.  Though two deaths have occurred in the past two years, drivers are still bloodthirsty.  Recent efforts by cyclists to lower the speed limit on some of the more well traveled cycling routes only serves to make the driving population more enraged (the comments on these articles are insane).  The roads aren’t safe for cyclists in Virginia Beach because of high speed limits, it’s because of drivers’ attitudes.  Most drivers in Virginia Beach think no cyclist has any business being on a road, and the position of the elected government reflects that.  When a cyclist died after being hit from behind, the Commonwealth’s Attorney decided not to prosecute the driver.  Furthermore, thanks to the city council, there are no bike lanes in Virginia Beach.  A more cyclist-friendly government would promote the installation of bike lanes and provide a more friendly environment for cyclists.  Unfortunately, since most residents see bike lanes and more cyclists as an infringement of their personal space, they elect officials that share the same position they do.  As a result, we get the situation we have now, with animosity building on all sides.

We elect the government that we deserve on all levels, even at the state and federal level.  State governments are running out of money and making huge cutbacks in an attempt to balance their budgets.  California is so desperate as to hand out IOUs instead of tax refunds.  Since the federal government sees the power to tax its citizens as an indefinite line of credit, there is no mandate to balance the budget and the federal deficit is spiraling out of control.  People complain that essential government services are being cut while the federal government is incurring serious debt.  However, these people are no different than the government they deride.  With almost half of all Americans spending more than they make each year, many voters are in no position to complain: they elected a government that acts just like they do.  If people were able to make better spending decisions on an individual level, I would imagine the government they elect would do the same.

Somehow, people expect elected officials to be held to a higher standard then those that elected them.  However, those in office act the same way everyone else does, bringing along all the same weaknesses and quirks.  Though nobody in Williamsburg runs for office with the position to evict students and young professionals, it happens as a matter of course since those that vote share that belief.  Since most Virginia Beach residents are on a crusade against cyclists, elected officials end up adding fuel to the fire.  While most Americans acknowledge they have poor spending habits and wish to improve and never do, those in our state and federal legislatures do the same thing.  Don’t expect the government to save you from anything since your failures are the same as theirs.