Tag Procrastination

I’m delinquent in responding to Mark's tag from a few weeks ago – a situation that I’ll remedy today. But before I get to that, I’ve got a few random notes to share, starting with a follow-up from the previous post:

Thanks to everyone who commented or e-mailed on my censored snot rocket article. One of my friends e-mailed it to our local running group, so it ended up getting seen by quite a few people after all. What’s even better is that many people had additional observations or suggestions for future study. Among them:

* Apparently, my cycling and swimming (?) brethren felt somewhat left out by the tutorial. As far as the swimmers are concerned - can we all agree to keep it out of the lap pool? My pool conveniently has an overflow gutter, but I know a lot of pools don't, in which case ... ugh. I'm not sure what to tell you. If it's in the water, you're swimming in it, and if it's on the deck, everybody else is walking on it. It's a lose-lose situation; I have no idea what to recommend here.

From the bike, blowing snot rockets is obviously a more complicated maneuver, being heavily dependent upon factors such as bicycle velocity, prevailing wind direction (and speed), slipstream aerodynamics, and maintaining your balance while leaning outside the bike’s center of gravity. That’s not to say it shouldn’t be attempted - but the learning curve isn’t quite as steep as it is with runners. Maybe they can start including some rocket tips on the Spinervals DVD series or something.

* I heard from two separate sources that the process is also called an “Okie blow” in certain areas of the country … and I sensed that those folks may have been offended that I didn’t give Okies proper recognition for their unique contribution to society. Apparently the ability to blow a rocket is a source of regional pride in some parts – who knew?

* People with mustaches or beards have a much higher degree of difficulty and potential for post-ejection residue buildup in their facial hair. See – this is a huge consideration, and I hadn’t even considered it. This is why I’d be a lousy investigative journalist.

On that note, we’ll put the snot rocket topic to bed for a while. A couple of other thoughts before the next post:

1) Does everybody know about Pandora Radio? If you’re a music lover who is frustrated with the limited station options, stale song repetition, or endless commercial interruptions of modern-day radio, you’ll go crazy with this site. You just type in the name of a band or song you like, and custom-build your own Internet radio station form there, based on feedback you can give at anytime.

I’ve been hooked on Pandora for the past month or so, and it’s become the most reliable way to get my daily emo/punk/alt rock fix. (I think it works equally well across other genres like jazz, blues, or classic rock, but I haven’t checked these out yet.) I’ve found a lot of great groups I didn’t know about before, such as Tragedy Andy, Default, and Rufio - as well as the band currently playing on my sidebar, who have become one of my favorites.

2) I know that American Idol is barely underway, but I think I’ve already decided who I’m cheering for: the girl from Oregon who lives in a log cabin, rides and trains horses, practices mixed martial arts and cage fighting, and sang “Amazing Grace” for her audition. She could bail you out of a bar room fight on Saturday night, then sing hymns with you in church the next morning. Oh, one more thing – she’s drop dead gorgeous. Regardless of whether she progresses any further in the contest, you have to be impressed by that kind of skill set.

For the record, my wife is apparently cheering for the extremely good-looking, remarkably stylish dude with dreadlocks who sang Uncle Kracker’s “Follow Me” – at least, that’s what I gathered by her saying “Wow!” about 10 times during the three minutes he was on screen. So we’re less than one week along, and our loyalties have already been cast. I think this TV writers strike is making us desperate for compelling story lines. Thank God it's only two weeks until season 4 of Lost begins.

Anyway, it’s too early to start handicapping the AI contest, so we’ll see what the next few weeks have in store.

**
Gosh, that’s almost 700 words already. You know what? I'm changing my mind - let’s make this one a quickie, and stop here. The tag post has already waited 3 weeks – another day or two won’t ruin it.

Just think of it as my lame little way of building suspense.

Read more...

Snot Rocket Science

I had originally planned on using this space to introduce my most recent Monterey Herald column, but an unusual thing happened during the article’s transformation from Word document to newsprint: the whole thing got canned by my editor.

My editor is a great guy. He’s enthusiastic about promoting participatory sports like running, cycling, and triathlon alongside traditional reporting on the major spectator sports. I mean … how many newspapers even have a running or cycling columnist? He’s a runner himself, and has done the Big Sur Marathon a couple of times. And he always gives me free reign to write about whatever I feel like.

This is the first time in three years that an article has been pulled based on content, and here’s the funny part: the article is about blowing your nose.

In the past, I’ve used my (admittedly, thinly guised) column about running to discuss such topics as migrant labor, gangster rap, reality TV, local criminal cases, and sex among athletes (which - now that I’m trying to link to it – I realize was lost when I shut my old website down. I’ll have to republish it here sometime.). So it’s kind of surprising that the column which ultimately got pulled was a story about boogers. On the other hand … maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that my column was censored; maybe the only surprise was that it took three years to happen.

I didn’t take the decision personally – in fact, I knew this column might have pushed the envelope of “mainstream journalism” just a bit. (I even included a disclaimer at the beginning – but whatever.) There are no hard feelings. My editor has to answer to a different audience than I do, and I’ll live to write another day.

Thankfully, I’ve got the Internet to fall back on, where the bar for things like common standards of decency and good journalistic taste are set remarkably low. With that, I give you - using my best Access Hollywood voice here – the article the Monterey Herald DIDN’T want you to see!!

***

Running Life 1/17/08 “Snot Rocket Science”

(Warning: the following column contains graphic descriptions of an unflattering body function. Make sure you’ve finished breakfast before reading.)

During the winter months, there’s an easy way to spot the novices in a crowd of runners: they’re the ones carrying Kleenex.

The rest of us, after enough training miles, eventually become skilled in the delicate practice of clearing our nasal passages using nothing more than one finger and a well-timed blast of air. Today, I’m going to explain how it’s done.

That’s right … I’m talking about snot rockets.

Runners certainly didn’t invent the process of ejecting snot directly onto the ground, but – like everything else we do – we’ve trained ourselves to do it very efficiently. In the wintertime, the combination of cold temperatures and lingering congestion force many runners to become experts in the technique.

The act is also known as “farmer blowing”, but this moniker doesn’t accurately reflect the amount of skill and risk that are involved in the procedure. It’s not exactly rocket science, but it’s fairly complicated nevertheless … so let’s just call it snot rocket science.

Yes, there is risk involved, and several factors to consider in order to launch these gooey projectiles safely. So follow this advice, and no one gets hurt.

The first lesson in snot rocketry is timing. You can’t just run out the front door and start blasting. The human nostril is a complex mechanism, with narrow parameters of operational efficiency. The machinery needs proper lubrication to perform effectively, a process that can take several minutes after the start of your run. If you try to launch from a dry chamber, you’re bound to just push the payload down onto your cheek.

You also have to wait until your snot reaches the proper critical mass for expulsion. The test is to exhale gently through your nose, and if you feel substantive thickness and pressure on the rim of your nostril, you know that all systems are go.

However, before launching, you need to carefully check your surroundings. A typical rocket travels downward with a posterior and lateral trajectory – think of a cone-shaped distribution range - so you shouldn’t be alongside or in front of other runners when you let fly. Proper etiquette dictates that a runner move well off to the side of a group, to ensure that his/her fellow runners remain out of the blast line. Be sure to check your blind spot over your shoulder as well to avoid any friendly fire incidents.

Another consideration if you’re running in a public place is to check that there aren’t any impressionable children – or anyone else who might be offended – around when you blow. Rocket launching is similar to swearing: generally OK for grown-ups to do under certain circumstances, but not something you want kids to go around mimicking without understanding the ramifications.

Once you’ve determined the proper launch time and assured your positioning, it’s time to pay attention to technique. There’s nothing more embarrassing than coming home with a giant booger on your shoulder or thigh because of a sloppy misfire.

(Before proceeding further, here’s one final disclaimer: Please note that the following instructions pertain to unilateral (one-sided) launching. The method of discharging both nostrils simultaneously – sometimes referred to as a Double Texan – is a highly risky maneuver to be attempted only by experienced practitioners.)

It isn’t as simple as turning your head and blowing. The recommended technique for single-nostril blasting is to rotate your shoulders and hips slightly to the “involved” side, leaning partially forward from the waist. Inhale slowly while placing the pad of your index or middle finger beside the opposite nostril. Gently press the nostril shut while you forcefully exhale, expulsing the contents of the full nostril onto the ground.

Some runners prefer the European variation of hand positioning, where the pad of the thumb is placed upon the opposite nostril, with the remaining fingers extended above the blast line. While this is an acceptable alternative, the gesture is sometimes viewed as more offensive in nature, and the finger-on-nose technique is generally recognized as the gold standard.

Once the projectile has launched, there’s probably some cleanup work to be done. Even if you have a clean shoot, most rockets will leave some splatter residue when they exit the blast chamber. After a successful launch, check to see if you need to wipe any such debris from the base of your nose or the margins of your upper lip.

Pay attention when wiping, however, and be certain to maintain adequate separation of wiping surfaces. Many runners use the tips of their gloves or the sleeve of their shirt to wipe sweat off their foreheads while running. When clearing away rocket residue, use a different section of your garments, and then – this is the important part – remember which parts of your clothing you’re using to wipe sweat, and which you’re using to wipe snot. You’ll feel like an idiot – not to mention look pretty gross - if you remove the stuff from your nose only to smear it around on your forehead a few minutes later.

Who knew there was so much to learn about blowing your nose? It’s not called snot rocket science for nothing. The good news is that most runners become proficient in the technique after a handful of practice sessions.

And once they do, they don’t have to worry about bringing Kleenex on their training runs ever again.

Read more...

Tickling God

“If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.“
- Origin unknown

*
That seems like as good a note as any to introduce my 2008 race schedule. Normally I’m pretty successful in accomplishing the tasks I want to get done - but I fully recognize that I’m always just one mishap or injury or catastrophe from any of this coming to pass.

Before we get to the schedule, allow me to review the ground rules:

First, I don’t race that often. Between work and family time and home projects and my annual 2-month hibernation from training, the number of weekends that I’m able to escape for a race can usually be counted on one hand. Not to mention, these endurance events get increasingly cost prohibitive each year – so the thought of entering races as training runs makes even less sense to me than it used to.

Second, I employ a single-minded focus in preparation for major events. I know some people (like this guy) who can hop from ultras to triathlons to marathons and shorter distance races and do fairly well across the board – but I’m not one of those people. I love having an eclectic resume, but I prefer to build all of my training around one type of event, then shift gears and move on to the next one.

It’s like the way jazz musician Wynton Marsalis is skilled in about 10 different genres of music, but never mixes them all on one album. He’ll record an entire blues CD, then move on to classical, then Dixieland, then big band, etc. Just think of me as the Wynton Marsalis of endurance sports, except, you know ... with about 100 times less talent.

Accordingly, my 2008 calendar is essentially split into two distinct seasons: the first half, built around preparing myself for my anchor race in June – which I might have mentioned here once or twice already - and the remainder of the year, when I’ll become a full-time triathlete again.

Here’s a quick overview of the races on my sidebar calendar:

Diablo 50M, April 12th: My first foray into ultramarathons for the spring, on a course that is generally recognized as one of the toughest 50-milers around. The run features 13,000’ of climbing (by comparison, the very hilly Firetrails 50M race I did last fall has just under 8000’), and the winning times from last year are over 9 hours (my Firetrails time was 8:45, and 34 people beat me). If you look at the names on last year's results list, those people aren’t chumps – they’re top-shelf talent who were simply slowed by the relentless climbs and tough terrain that surround the highest point of elevation in the Bay Area.

This will be a perfect tune-up race to test my hill climbing, and since the course runs so slowly, I won’t bother with any silly concerns about trying to PR – a mistake that was nearly critical in my 50M race last fall. In fact, I need to be especially conservative, because three weeks later I’ve got ….

Miwok 100K, May 3rd: This race was almost as difficult to get into as Western States – the online registration sold out in about 20 minutes. Miwok’s always been popular, and over the past year it’s been featured in a couple of magazine profiles proclaiming the beauty and difficulty (9500’ of climbing) of this course that traverses Marin County, the fertile crescent of trail running and mountain biking in the United States. It’s probably the best race simulation I can ask for before the big one …

Western States 100M, June 28-29: I know you can’t see this from home – but it was exciting for me just to type that out. I don’t really need to say anything else here – I’ll have plenty more to write about this race as we go along. Good golly.

Assuming I survive States, starting in July I’ll switch my focus to …

Big Kahuna 70.3 Triathlon, Sept 7: This was one of the most enjoyable races I’ve ever done in my life (and my race report from 2006 is at right). It’s tough to explain: it wasn’t the most challenging, or most rewarding, or most competitive event I’ve ever done – but from start to finish, I had an absolute blast. I can’t think of a better venue to return to the sport of triathlon after running my tail off on the trails of Northern California for the first half of the year.

That’s it – that’s the list. If you’re a longtime reader, you’ll note that one race is conspicuous by its absence. This will be the first time in over a dozen years that I won’t be running my hometown race, the Big Sur Marathon – and as you can imagine, I’ve got some additional thoughts on this topic that I’ll elaborate upon here shortly.

For now, though, we’ll stop here, and not let the list of what’s going to be (unless, of course, God has something different in mind) get overshadowed by what’s missing. It’s not the biggest race list you’ll ever see, but there’s certainly enough to keep me occupied from now until the fall. It’s also enough to fill me with worry almost every night, and to motivate me to drag myself out the door for training nearly every morning.

In other words, it feels just about perfect.

Read more...

Now a Triathlete

In the previous post, I described how I was once a runner who came into possession of a somewhat valuable book, but have since become a triathlete who is more concerned with getting a significant bang for his buck.

My new toy from OneTri arrived this week. But first, indulge me in a brief background story of how it came to pass.

A little over a year ago, I received an e-mail from a guy named Jerry who was starting a new triathlon-related business, and wanted to discuss a sponsorship with me.

Now, I’ve never been sponsored for anything, except for my Catholic confirmation about 25 years ago – which, as any of my remaining Catholic family members will quickly tell you, didn’t end very well. So the idea of someone sponsoring me in pursuit of something I actually enjoyed sounded pretty nice.

The agreement wasn’t anything flashy – basically, he asked if I’d put his logo on my sidebar, in exchange for discounted merchandise. Since I had plenty of room on my sidebar (note to any other companies out there: I still do!), it seemed like an easy enough request to fulfill.

For one reason or another, I never really took him up on the reciprocal offer. And then this crazy Once a Runner thing happened like $250 falling out of the sky, and I figured it was a great opportunity to address a glaring need in my tri-gear inventory.

So I contacted Jerry again, and he assured me that our deal was still on. That’s when I ordered this:


It’s my new Zoot Z1 wetsuit. Actually, that’s not quite accurate: it’s my new Z1 WetZOOT. Seriously – it says so right here. I still have to get used to that.

The suit (sorry – I mean zoot) retails for almost $450, and OneTri had already discounted it to $314 on their website. Then Jerry hooked me up with another discount on top of that - I won’t tell you how much, but let’s just say that you probably couldn’t buy dinner with my outstanding balance after putting down that initial two-fifty.

It’s far and away the best deal I’ve received in a long time, so as you can guess, I’m a big OneTri fan right now. I know you have a lot of choices when it comes to buying tri-gear online, but do Jerry and me a favor and add OneTri to your list of bookmarked sites the next time you’re shopping around.

Now, as far as the wetZoot goes ….

This is the first tri-specific suit I’ve ever owned. Somehow I managed to muddle through my first decade as a triathlete either borrowing suits from friends, or using my surfing wetsuit (along with an insane amount of Bodyglide – I could tell you horror stories). So maybe the arrival of this wetZoot signifies my arrival as a completely self-sufficient triathlete, or something symbolic like that. Then again, maybe it just feels cool to finally have one of my own.

I didn’t get around to trying the zoot on until after our kids were asleep, so I spent a few minutes squirming into it in the living room while my wife and I were catching up on TV. Once I finally put it on, we had the following exchange:

Me: So what do you think?

Her: (staring, pensive)

Me: What?

Her: It makes you look kind of hot.

And that comment alone was enough to justify the purchase.

The zoot hasn’t seen one drop of water yet, and it’s already paying dividends that I can’t put a dollar amount on. Now I’m trying to come up with more excuses to put it on at night – I figure I can only get away with “double-checking the fit” about 2 or 3 more times before she starts to get suspicious.

Unfortunately, I’ll have to wait several months before I learn if the zoot performs as well in the water as it does in the living room. But I figure I’ll get a whole lot of action out of it (still talking about the water) for several years to come. Plus, I won’t have to badger my friends anymore, and I’ll probably save an awful lot of money on Bodyglide.

All of which makes for a pretty good outcome, when you consider that the whole thing started with the sale of a used paperback book.

Read more...

Once a Book Owner

A couple of administrative notes before today’s post …

First, I got tagged again (this time by Mark) to write about memorable moments from 2007. Since it took me almost a month to respond to the tag I did two weeks ago, it should go without saying that you’d better not hold your breath waiting for this one – but I’ll get to it eventually.

It got me to thinking, though – shouldn’t there be some sort of policy like they have for jury duty, where you don’t have to answer a tag if you’ve done one in the previous 12 months? Maybe one of the lawyers out there can draft something up for us.

Second – and I’m almost too embarrassed to report this – I screwed up some words in the Rolling Stones lyrics that introduced the previous post. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how seriously I take the accuracy of song lyrics - I feel like a pastor who forgot the words to the Our Father. I've already fixed the mistake - but this was incredibly sloppy work on my part, and completely inexcusable. One week into 2008, and I’m already having a Britney Spears moment. Somebody call Dr Phil.

OK, time to move on. Here’s the post …

**

"What was the secret, they wanted to know; in a thousand different ways they wanted to know The Secret. And not one of them was prepared, truly prepared to believe that it had not so much to do with chemicals and zippy mental tricks as with that most unprofound and sometimes heart-rending process of removing, molecule by molecule, the very tough rubber that comprised the bottoms of his training shoes. The Trial of Miles, Miles of Trials. How could they be expected to understand that?""
- from Once a Runner, by John L. Parker


Even before I read it, I felt like I knew all about Once a Runner.

John Parker’s 1978 novel about fictional miler Quenton Cassidy has struck an emotional chord with runners ever since its first publication. It was groundbreaking in the way it accurately captured the competitive running experience – likely because the author was a collegiate runner himself. His physical descriptions of extreme exertion, as well as all of the complex psychological forces at work in the mind of a runner, are portrayed in vivid detail throughout the story.

Through the years, the book has remained a topic of discussion among countless training groups, and it was in this manner that I heard about many of the scenes and plot twists prior to the day about 15 years ago when I walked into my local running store in Chapel Hill, NC, and paid $9.95 for my own copy to read.

I paged through it in a couple of weeks, and found it fairly enjoyable; Cassidy was a character with whom I could identify on many levels, and I recalled some of the memorable scenes and phrases - such as the introductory quote above - during several of my own training runs that followed. But I can’t really say it was a life-changing experience on any significant level.

Afterward, I placed it on my bookshelf, and went on about my business. In the years that followed, I’d occasionally see or hear something to remind me of the story, but I never thought much of it beyond that. Never, that is, until last month, when one of my training partners started this exchange:

Him: Hey, do you still have your copy of Once a Runner?

Me: Yeah, it’s on my bookshelf at home. Do you want to borrow it?

Him: No – I’m trying to find my old copy so that I can sell it. They’re going for about 300 bucks on eBay right now.

Me: What? Really? How come?

When I returned home that morning, I did some checking, and my friend was exactly right. Apparently, over the past decade, several factors I had never imagined happening conspired to make my 10-dollar book a highly sought-after collectible item.

The first was that, after six editions, publication of the book stopped in 1999, making copies scarce – and perhaps as a result, Once a Runner took on an almost folkloric mystique. Those who had read the book would enrapture newcomers with the story, like apostles spreading the gospel of Quenton Cassidy one runner at a time.

Parker himself unwittingly helped the cult-like phenomena develop, as he made like J.D. Salinger after the novel’s release. During nearly 30 years of silence, he became known as the guy who caught literary lightning in a bottle. His seclusion and resistance to write any follow-up works made his admirers even more fervent in their adoration of his singular novel.

This fall, the often-rumored and long-awaited event finally happened: Parker released a follow-up novel, titled Again to Carthage. Before long, a new generation of fans started hearing about the reclusive genius who wrote the best running novel of all time, and set out to find copies of the first work.

The only problem is, there aren’t many to be found. It’s the perfect storm of frenzied interest and scarce commodities – and it’s why used books are selling online for hundreds of dollars.

Amid such hysteria, the simple fact most commonly overlooked is this: the book’s not that great. It's certainly decent, but not good enough to justify such overzealous devotion. So when I heard that the one-inch thick space holder gathering dust on my bookshelf was worth a lot of money, I didn’t hesitate to start a listing on eBay. A few days later, I received a deposit of 250 dollars into my PayPal account.

Such a move might sound like sacrilege to devotees of the book, but for me, it was a no-brainer. The list of books that I go back and read more than once is extremely short, and certainly doesn’t include Once a Runner. And I’ve never bought into the notion that books are for displaying on shelves – I feel like they are meant to be read, and shared, and read again. I frequently loan out running books to training partners, and don’t really care if I ever see them again. So the idea that someone would pay me a lot of money to permanently borrow a book sounded pretty enticing.

Besides … did I mention that I got 250 bucks? That’s a pretty good chunk of dough – especially for something that I paid 10 dollars for and then largely forgot about. I took my newfound income shopping online at OneTri, and came away with something that I’ll use a lot more often than the 15-year old book used to purchase it (and that’s all I’m saying for now - but when it arrives, I’ll let you know).

Finally, if anyone out there is looking for this book with the impression that it’s some sort of sacred text, let me assure you that you’re not missing anything monumental by not reading it. Wait a few months or years until some publishing company recognizes the demand (in fact, as more book owners are realizing the opportunity, the market has already stabilized a bit - as of today, most used copies are selling for closer to $200) and starts mass producing copies again, then go pay normal retail price for it like I did. I’m sure you have better ways to spend that kind of money.

In the meantime, if you want to experience the feelings and emotions of running , here’s The Secret: go outside and start the unprofound process of wearing down, molecule by molecule, the tough rubber on the bottom of your training shoes. In doing so, I expect that most of you will be able to understand.

Read more...

Sympathy for the Slacker

“Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints –
As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer, ‘cause I’m in need of some restraint.”
- The Rolling Stones, “Sympathy for the Devil”

*
I don’t necessarily mind being a role model to someone – as long as he or she sees the bad along with the good. That was the intent of this week’s Monterey Herald column, co-written by my friend Mike.

As I indicated before, the column is generally targeted toward newbie runners, whose ranks tend to swell at this time of year. And – for reasons I’ll never fully understand – seeing my picture in the paper twice per month occasionally makes people think that I’m some kind of authority figure or role model in regards to training.

The problem, of course, is that I’m frequently guilty of some of the worst habits imaginable. I blow off workouts, spend way too much time watching TV - not to mention blogging - and can make a stack of cookies disappear faster than my favorite character on Sesame Street (who, in newly introduced “healthy habits” segments last year, has been seen eating vegetables so that he doesn’t set a bad example. Am I the only one who thinks that we’re needlessly sucking the joy out of being a kid nowadays? It’s not like Cookie Monster is Public Enemy #1 when it comes to childhood obesity. But that’s a whole separate post.).

To some extent, these are issues that all of us face on a regular basis. Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints, so too is every triathlete a slacker in certain ways, at certain times. And that’s the point of our column: you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be good more often than you’re bad.

***
Running Life 1/3/08 "Having a Bad Day"

Wait! Don’t tell us – you made a resolution to lose weight and get healthy this year. Now it’s less than one week into 2008 and you’re already struggling and having second thoughts.

Everybody sabotages their fitness plans from time to time – even your local running columnists. So we’re not going to beat you over the head this week about all the reasons you should be running.

Instead, we’re going to take you through a typical day, and show you just how many opportunities there are to screw things up. Remember the Daniel Powter song called “You Had a Bad Day”? Here’s a small sampling of the ways you can neglect your fitness plan during the course of 24 hours:

*
Last night, you ambitiously set your alarm 30 minutes early in order to exercise before your work day. But when the alarm goes off, the bed feels so warm and comfortable that you hit the snooze button to linger a bit longer. 10 minutes later, you do the same thing again. And later on, once more. So much for morning exercise.

As you shower, you tell yourself that you’ll compensate by hitting the gym at lunchtime, so you pack a duffel bag with workout clothes and figure you’re still right on track for fitness.

You’re running a bit behind, and you really aren’t too hungry, so you hurry out the door without eating breakfast. But you’re not fully alert yet, so you swing by Starbucks for a little pick-me-up. You received a gift card for Christmas, so it’s not like you’re spending real money.

You order a grande caramel macchiato and a big cranberry muffin. It’s fine, because you skipped breakfast – and now you’re at the top of your game.

Arriving at work, you park as close as possible to the building and take the elevator up to the 2nd floor. You stow your duffel bag and sit down at your computer and catch up on e-mail. 90 minutes later, your office neighbor comes by with some leftover Christmas cookies that his spouse made. (He’s getting rid of them because he resolved to eat healthier in 2008.)

You smell the cookies and realize how hungry you are. So you grab a few cookies, which is OK because they’re little ones, and because you didn’t eat breakfast. You eat one of them now, and put the others on your desk to save for the afternoon. 10 minutes later, those are gone as well.

At 11:30 your coworkers stop by to invite you out to lunch with them. You stare at your duffel bag for about 2 seconds before agreeing. It’s OK, because you might be able to quit work a bit early and go for a quick run before going home.

You go to your favorite restaurant and order a large meal, since you’re still catching up from breakfast. It’s OK to eat big though, because you’ve started a fitness program, and you’ll burn all those calories off soon enough.

During meetings and phone calls after lunch, you gradually feel your energy level wavering. At 3:00 it seems like a good time to visit your coworker who always keeps a bowl of Reese’s mini Peanut Butter cups at his desk. It’s OK, because those are your favorite candy.

You talk to him a bit and idly eat 3 minis, then decide to grab a couple more as you head back to your desk, which is OK, since they’re minis. You sit back down with renewed energy, a smile on your face, and a bit of chocolate on your cheek.

You finish the work day make it all the way to your car before you realize that you left the duffel bag in your office. At this point, it’s a total hassle to go back inside to get it, since you’d have to wait for the elevator, then say goodnight to everyone all over again. Besides, you figure that traffic is crazy, so you don’t really have any extra time to work out. It’s OK, because you’ll have three chances to exercise tomorrow.

On your way home, you call your family, and decide that it would be a lot easier to go out for pizza instead of cooking dinner tonight – so you meet them at the pizza parlor.

You have 3 pieces of pepperoni pizza, 2 pieces of garlic bread and a glass of red wine. It’s OK, because garlic and wine are good for your heart, and because you’re going to skip the spumoni dessert.

At home you spend two hours sitting on the couch, catching up on TV and reviewing the newspaper and magazine articles about exercise that you’ve been collecting.

As you climb into bed, you try to get a little loving from your spouse, but she complains that you smell like garlic. So you go into the kitchen and have a big bowl of ice cream. It’s OK, because ice cream is your comfort food – and besides, you’re going to set your alarm early tomorrow to start exercising.

*
So you had a bad day. These things happen to all of us. The trick is to make sure it doesn’t become a cycle that repeats itself day after day.

Bad days don’t become perfect ones overnight, and fitness doesn’t happen immediately. Changes are small, and gradual, and usually happen one at a time. But if you dedicate yourself to achieving them, you’ll gradually make big improvements over the course of the year.

We hope that your 2008 is filled with many more good days than bad ones.

Read more...

Regarding Linus

“What if I say I’m not like the others –
What if I say I’m not just another … “
- Foo Fighters, “The Pretender” (on sidebar)

*
In the fall of 1965, cartoonist Charles Schulz agreed to create an animated Christmas special featuring the characters from his Peanuts comic strip. At several points during the process, he nearly abandoned the task.

Schulz had several items of concern during the creative process. It was the first animated special he had attempted, and he was apprehensive about how his characters would transition from their customary comic strip stills into dynamic animation. He struggled to match the children available for voice work with each individual character. He had a shoestring budget which resulted in disjointed production and substandard sound mixing.

But mostly, he was concerned that his primary message would be neglected.

The video clip from my Christmas Eve post was the most contentious point between Schulz and the CBS executives in charge of the project. Schulz was adamant that no Christmas special would be complete without a Biblical reference to the birth of Jesus; the networks feared that such an overt religious gesture would anger viewers.

Schulz stubbornly stood his ground, even when threatened with cancellation of the program. The network eventually conceded the point, and prepared for a storm of criticism, figuring they’d cut their losses on what they presumed would be a one-time presentation.

Of course, Linus’s monologue was widely praised by both critics and viewers, and stands today as the centerpiece of one of the most beloved Christmas specials of all time. It’s a moment of lasting significance that distinguished A Charlie Brown Christmas from the rapidly growing crowd of simplistic holiday fare. It also marks the point at which Charles Schulz definitively found his voice.

Unfortunately, finding a voice is never as easy as it appears, and creating lasting significance among the commonplace is even more elusive. These are some of the considerations I’ve been pondering lately in regards to this blog.

Those of us who participate in this medium come to it for a wide variety of reasons. We may want a place to document our progression through training programs (or through life in general), a forum to express our viewpoint or feelings about our circumstances, or merely an outlet to unload whatever thoughts are cluttering our heads.

However varied they may be, most of our reasons tend to be relatively self-serving. We’re each the master of our own microuniverse, free to write or rant or ramble about absolutely anything, and to do so on our own terms. Whether or not anyone actually cares is a secondary concern.

The irony is that despite our varied intentions, many of us end up sounding dreadfully similar. After all, there are only so many ways to describe the miles we run or laps we swim or roads we ride on – and the more endurance blogs you surf through, the harder those reports are to distinguish.

(On a somewhat related note - it’s probably no coincidence that I love folks like Stronger and Craig and Susanna: people who bring a unique perspective to this strange little community of ours, and share their stories in a way that is more insightful than simple mileage and workout sessions.)

So my ambition for the upcoming year is to make like Charles Schulz. I want to provide something beyond reporting about my training for upcoming races. I want to offer occasional moments of importance, and hopefully establish some greater meaning that stands out from this otherwise trivial existence. I want to find my voice.

The hard part is that I’m not sure exactly what that means. It’s quite likely that I already have a voice – one of an idiot who completely overanalyzes things. And I can’t simply switch personas and try to be someone I’m not (in other words, don’t worry - you’ll still find plenty of ridiculous stuff around here). I guess all I’m really committing myself to is doing the same things I’m already doing, but with a higher purpose in mind.

I’m challenging myself to grow: to find more significance in my everyday observations, to willingly profess the values and ideals I believe in, and to somehow, in some small way, improve the lives of those with whom I cross paths.

It seems like an ambitious standard to maintain – and that’s why today seems like the right day to proclaim it.

Read more...