What I Learned Today

I’m now officially training for a triathlon. This is the Pasadena Sprint Triathlon, supposedly good for beginners and pre-beginners like me who’ve never even seen a triathlon from the sidelines. As preparation (and honestly, because it is fun), I’ve been doing some morning runs (well, jogs) around the neighborhood. I have a 2.1-mile loop that’s absolutely gorgeous just as the sun is coming up; it heads up into the residential foothills of the San Gabriels, where the houses are reclusive, sprawling, and well-spaced (and oh-so-pricey). I walk on some of the steeper uphill parts. The downhill run, however, is pure joy, feeling the strength of my body and the delight in motion. It is pure joy, that is, except that I’ve started getting a side stitch about halfway through. It’s irritating to have my legs saying “more more faster faster” and my abdomen saying “STOP NOW NO MORE OUCH PAIN DRAT!”

Wikipedia also has something to say about this. It actually has an article about the side stitch and its many alternative terms. Apparently, there is a common theory that the side cramp (a stabbing pain under the lower edge of the ribcage) is caused by internal organs pushing down on the diaphragm, but this is unlikely since the sport it most often manifests in is swimming. The side ache may actually be caused by contraction of the liver or spleen, restricting blood flow, or an irritated peritoneum. The side sticker usually manifests on the right side (fascinating! It’s happened on my right side both times), although wikipedia marks this claim as “[citation needed].”

Advice for avoiding the side crampie (my favorite term) includes both drinking lots of water and avoiding food and drink 2-3 hours before exercising, strengthening the diaphragm and core muscles, warming up and gradually increasing exercise pace, etc. There might be something to the last one, as I’ve never gotten exercise related transient abdominal pain (ETAP) during Jazzercise, which is carefully scheduled to ramp the exertion level gradually up and then back down.

Wikipedia also provides tips for dealing with a side stitch after it happens. One is to jam your fingers up under the ribcage to press on the painful spot. Interestingly, that’s exactly what I did reflexively when it happened. This made it feel better as long as I was pressing but didn’t do any good after I let go. Apparently the main way to stop the pain is to slow or stop your exercise and wait for it to subside. No good! This tip seemed particularly interesting: “While running, exhale when your foot strikes on the opposite side that the side stitch is located. For example, a side stitch on the right, exhale hard when your left foot strikes the ground.” I’ll have to try that one. If nothing else, the effort of focusing might distract me from the pain.

Ultimately, gradually getting in better shape should help avoid any recurrences of the side stitch. Clearly, more practice is called for! Otherwise my triathlon debut on March 19 may be a bit of a fizzle. :)

I haven’t ever eaten a fresh fig. Friends tell me they’re quite tasty, especially here where you can get locally grown ones. Figs with wasps inside? Maybe not so much.

Figs are not actually fruits but a mass of inverted flowers and seeds that are pollinated by a species of tiny symbiotic wasps. The male fig flower is the only place where the female wasp can lay her eggs, at the bottom of a narrow opening in the fruit that she shimmies her way through. The baby wasps mature inside the fig into males that have sharp teeth but no wings and females ready to fly. They mate, the males chew through the special fig pollen holders and drop them down to the females, chew holes in the skin of the fig to let the females out, and then die.

The females, armed with the pollen, fly off in search of new male figs to lay her eggs in. In the process some of the female wasps land on female figs that don’t have the special egg receptacle but trick the female into shimmying inside. As the female wasp slides through the narrow passage in the fig her wings are ripped off (egg laying is a one-way mission) and while she is unsuccessful in laying her eggs, she successfully pollinates the female flower. The female flower then ripens into the fig that you can get at the supermarket, digesting the trapped wasp inside with specialized enzymes!

[From Christina Agapakis, via The Atlantic’s Daily Dish, via Hacker News, via my officemate Ben.]

There is also a PBS special, called “The Queen of Trees”, that includes actual footage of this process (!). Here’s a preview:

These are tiny wasps, only 2 mm long. So their contribution to your protein intake would be minimal. Further, it seems that not all figs use this method of reproduction; some (those most often cultivated in the U.S.) instead use parthenocapy. This is the process of producing fruit without fertilization, which is handy if the plant has been imported without a fertilizing partner (or wasp), or if the desired result is a seedless fruit. New plants can be created “vegetatively” (e.g., putting a stem in water and having it sprout, or grafting one plant onto another). Clever, clever!

I’m currently in Manchester, U.K., for the SKA Science and Engineering Meeting (SKA stands for Square-Kilometer Array, a huge next-generation radio telescope array that’s going to be built this generation). I arrived on Saturday around noon local time, after traveling 6,300 miles over about 13 hours (with a layover in Frankfurt in there). Manchester was wet and drizzly, but it was neat to see a place where spring has meaning: little yellow narcissus had sprung up in the park, and white and purple bulbs (crocus?) were just starting to peek out.

To beat jet lag, I needed to stay up until a reasonable bedtime. So I went exploring to the nearby Manchester Museum, which welcomed me to the city with a “Chocolate Big Saturday”. “Big Saturdays” are apparently a periodic event at the museum, and the lure of chocolate distracted me from thinking through what it meant to go to a museum on a Saturday… especially one advertising a chocolate fountain. That’s right, as soon as I stepped inside I was nearly mown down by shrieking children racing around the lobby. I browsed the people showing cacao beans and leaves and how chocolate is made into bars. I was most intrigued by the hand-held spectrometer (like a little pen with a flashing light coming out) that one docent was using to collect and display spectra from M&Ms. I was about to ask if they sold hand-held spectrometers in the gift shop when she commented that this one cost £1,000. I also learned that Smarties (the British version of M&Ms) use only natural dyes (derived from plants) which is why they seem a bit faded or pastel compared to the aggressively supernatural M&M dyes. There was a certain subtext conveyed about British candies being superior to American ones. :)

I then moved on to “The Evolutionist”, a special exhibit on Charles Darwin, complete with comic-book-like (but beautiful) storyboards interspersed with quotes from his writings — some delightfully poetic:

“When looking down from the highest crest of the Cordillera, the mind, undisturbed by minute details, was filled with the stupendous dimensions of the surrounding masses.”

and others rather self-aggrandizing (comments on his own phenomenal powers of observation :) ). The room was full of artifacts, like Darwin’s various collections, and a copy of Charles Lyell‘s “Principles of Geology” (they apparently were friends; Lyell asked Darwin to record the geology he observed in his voyage on the Beagle, which he did). Did you know that Charles Darwin and wife Emma had *ten* children (although two did not survive to adulthood)?

I then went upstairs and saw lots of stuffed animals, a massive sperm whale skeleton (with a very pointy beak!), and a cool historical display on bows and arrows. The museum has an impressive collection of Egypt-related items, including several (real) mummies (not just the coffins). There are thoughtful signs outside the gallery warning those who might not want to view human remains. I was curious, but had to admit that the skeleton with shreds of skin and tissue still on it was pretty creepy. Most of the mummies were almost entirely wrapped, but a few had blackened, shriveled feet sticking out. Finally, I visited the Vivarium, which has lots of live frogs, snakes, and lizards in comfortable habitats. There were also rocks (stromatolites!) and minerals, meteorites and dinosaurs. It was a great, information-filled experience.

I wrapped up the day with a fabulous meal at a local Indian restaurant (Al Bilal), located in the nearby “curry mile”. The food (samosas, garlic naan, saag paneer) was not only delightfully flavored, but seemed to all be made from scratch on the spot. Wow!

It has always seemed a little unfair that, in the midst of trying to fight off a flu, you would be beset with aches all over your body. What purpose could aching really serve? The only hypothesis I could come up with was that it was a signal from the body to the brain: “Hey, I’m busy fighting a war in here, please divert all possible energy to the production of white blood cells and temperature elevation, and stop trying to walk around.” But once you’re collapsed on the couch, eyes swimming too much even to read, then really, what’s the point in that signaling system continuing its torture?

As usual when googling to learn about any sort of medical symptom, you can find sufficient material to send anyone into a hypochondriac frenzy just based on “body aches.” They could indicate that you are suffering from stress, depression, or even pregnancy! (No, not really. :) )

But back to the why: body aches (myalgia) in the case of the flu are caused by the body’s self-defense functions. According to Richard Deem (Cedars-Sinai Medical Center), macrophages attack diseased cells, producing inflammatory interleukins (especially IL-6, and that inflammation manifests as an aching body. So the aches just mean that the defense system is active—and the bad cells are being weeded out.

After five days of visiting my nieces (2.5 years and <2 weeks old, respectively), I’ve learned some relevant lessons.

• Toddlers are really good at figuring out what their points of leverage are. (“Mommy can physically pick me up and move me, but she can’t make me eat…”)
• As adults, we send mixed messages and do hypocritical things all the time. We don’t realize it until we encounter a strictly literal individual, like a two-year-old.
• When a toddler refers to a container of sour cream as “ice cream”, it’s not actually worth correcting her (unless you’re really interested in having a knock-down-drag-out argument.). Same with her stuffed “tiger” (actually a leopard), “Hot Dog” (Mickey Mouse), “snack” (can only refer to chips/crackers/pretzels, not fruit/cheese/anything currently undesired), and that prize word: “mine” (telling her that it’s yours is like bear-baiting). Not every moment is a teachable moment.
• I’d forgotten how much fun rolling around on the floor and tickling someone is, especially a giggly two-year-old who keeps laughing, “I got you!” even when you’re the one getting her.
• Projectile vomiting is not, as I had thought, just a funny phrase used by the over-inebriated.
• Breast milk has natural antibiotics (!) and you can use it to clear up mild eye infections, such as those caused by blocked tear ducts. This actually worked!

Other experiences that capture my week:

• On a walk, we encountered a flower. Me: “I wonder what kind of flower that is?” Toddler: *throws a rock at it*
• Toddler, after breakfasting: “I’m done!” Me: “Okay.” Her: “No! I want to tell Mommy!”
• I walked in after an afternoon trip to the grocery store. Toddler: “Daddy!” Me: “No, Daddy’s still at work.” Toddler, running past me to check the garage: “Daddy daddy daddy!” Me: “No, he isn’t home yet.” Toddler, echoing in garage: “DADDY!” Repeat for five minutes. (She does love her Daddy!)

I’m already looking forward to my next visit. :)