This is the first post of my very own blog; if for nothing more than completeness’ sake, I feel that the inaugural post ought to take an introductory tone. Though I’ve avoided the vile internet concoction known as a “blog” for years, resistance to technological progress is ultimately futile. So, without further ado, welcome to my thoughts, hopes, dreams, and ramblings.
If you’re reading this, you probably know me already. For those of you who don’t, my name is Rand Miller, and I have four defining characteristics: I’m quite short, I’m known for being outspoken, I race bikes semi-seriously, and I am a scientist. Hopefully my character goes deeper than that–perhaps the deeper me will reveal itself through my writing–but for now that description will suffice.
So, given my lifelong aversion, why start a blog now?
After so many years of having the creativity, flourish and beauty wrung from my words by the hands of Science, I’ve come to realize that the art of writing has been lost in me. Scientific writing is an art-form of its own, of course, carefully composed with clarity and concision of utmost importance; however, I find it a necessary but boring exercise, hardly befitting of the exciting science it describes.
As is often the case in my life, cycling has intervened and saved me from becoming a slave to the conventions of my scientific career. My racing organization, the Webcor/Alto Velo Elite Team, requires the highest-placed rider in any given event to write a “race report,” a duty dreaded by many of the riders on the roster; I’ve found that these reports provide a creative escape from my otherwise quantitative world, and allow me the freedom to express myself and my passion in an entirely new way.
As an illustration of my subconscious desire to write, I’ve been arbitrarily drafting essays for some time now, scribbling a few sentences when I find a few solitary moments: as I wait for water to boil on the stove, or while my slothful chemical reaction plods slowly to completion. Until now (with the exception of my race reports) my compositions had reached no audience but the Microsoft Word Paperclip guy, and his contributions were minimal. “It looks like you’re writing a letter,” he’d say with annoying frequency–I never write letters–until I recently ended his life with a swift click of a button in the Preferences menu. Now that he’s gone, I’m left utterly alone with my words.
That’s why I’m here with you now.
Of course, I find it horribly vain to presume that my thoughts are worth reading; they’re probably not even worth writing. Nevertheless, I’ve gone too far now to return to my reclusive essays–five hundred sixty-five words too far, in fact–so I hope you enjoy what I have to say. No, I hope that what I write elicits any response at all, be it positive or negative, for my greatest fear is to become a blogger whose readership is comprised of his mother alone.
My content will vary wildly with my mood, my level of intoxication, the day of the week, and the time of day. I intend to post my required race reports here, and I’m sure I’ll editorialize the cycling scene as well. I may throw some science into the mix from time to time, or perhaps write nothing of substance at all.
Only time will tell.