Three by Three

OK, so this is kind of messed up. I ran last Thursday and dutifully recorded the stats. I even came up with the clever title (shut up, it is so). And I was going to make an illogical connection between my clever title (yes, it is) and the phrase “five by five,” which was uttered by Faith in “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Here’s what the Urban Dictionary definition.

Obviously three by three, does not mean the same thing. Really it doesn’t have a meaning. Well, other than the meaning I attribute to it because of the circumstances that conjured it in my head. You see, last Thursday was the day of our bit “blizzard” in the ’Burg. Granted, the roads were lousy, leaving cars and trucks lining highway ditches for the next 24 hours. The gusty winds nearly blew me across Main Street as I pedaled along on my errands to the library and the post office (to mail my Christmas cards). But we received all of 2 inches of white stuff. Hardly on par with the Blizzard of 2011. Now that winter storm lived up to the name.

Anyway, I hit the streets that morning about 10:30 or so. It was well before the real weather began. It was 35 degrees when I headed out and raining lightly. Within about four blocks the rain transformed into sleet. That shit stings! OK, I’m not a sissy, but, you know, teeny ice crystals flying at your face at 20 miles per hour or so hurt. Just a little. A mile later (that’s purely guesswork) the sleet softened. Slowly it expanded and big, fluffy flakes began fluttering around me. They disappeared as soon as they hit the ground.

The wind made this inflatable quiver like he was quaking
from the cold. Pretty nice effect.

Thankfully I finished before it got slippery. And by Christmas the roads were clearer so there was little to fear, though I dodged the occasional patch of ice as I tried to keep to the side of the road.

While colder Tuesday, the run was clean and exhilarating. Being Christmas Day, there was nobody else out. No runners. No drivers. No bikers. Nobody. OK, so there were probably a few cars, but very few. And that’s always nice. And as I finished (just five blocks from home), I spied with my little eye a pair of pliers in the gutter. I’m amassing quite a collection of found tools: two pair of pliers, two crescent wrenches, a Snap-On socket handle. I could open a shop. 

Today’s Stats (12/25/12)

Temp: 17 degrees F

Distance: 3.1 miles

Weekly total: 11.1 miles

Treasure: 1 pair of True Craft pliers

iPod Playlist (Shuffle for 2, then alphabetical by song title)

New York, New York – Ryan Adams

No Better Place – Fountains of Wayne

Sink or Float - Aberdeen

Shoot to Thrill – AC/DC

Werewolves of London(cover) – Adam Sandler (Note, it's not warewolves nor wearwolfs)

Walk This Way - Aerosmith

Very Special Love - Alabama

Today's Stats (12/20/12)

Temp: 35 degrees F

Distance: 3 miles

Weekly Total: 8 miles

Treasure: Nothing. Wasn’t looking today.

iPod Playlist (Playlist for a friend):

Lightning Crashes(acoustic) – Live

Reno – Bruce Springsteen

Streetcorner Symphony – Rob Thomas

Everybody Got TheirSomething – Nikka Costa

I Don’t Wanna – The Call

Distance – Ryan McCullough

Rest Stop – Matchbox Twenty

Drink (acoustic) – Fiction Plane

Alright Guy – Todd Snider

Lookin’ for the Next Best Thing

A student and lover of nature and of literature, I have forever been curious about man’s efforts to play God. If you do not believe in God, either forgive the conceit or move on to other reading material. I’m not looking for a theological debate here.

The point is, among all the great literature I have read as an English literature major and a lover of the written word, two short stories that have always captured my imagination and given me cause to contemplate were “The Birthmark” by Nathanial Hawthorne and “The Domain of Arnheim, or The Landscape Garden” by Edgar Allan Poe. The two relate stories of the pursuit of perfection.

In “The Birthmark,” as I recall, a scientist becomes obsessed with removing the birthmark from the otherwise perfect flesh of his beloved. Spoiler alert! It ends with her demise. “Arnheim,” likewise, explores man’s desire to improve on natural beauty in an effort to become closer to God. I can’t summarize it as well as this writer from the World of Poe blog:

Man, by improving the arrangements in nature, in a way that "shall convey the idea of care, or culture, or superintendence, on the part of beings superior, yet akin to humanity" can create "nature in the sense of the handiwork of the angels that hover between man and God." Perfecting these landscapes in our eyes – thus being able to see them as the angels do--brings us closer to these higher beings.

I am brought to these thoughts at 2 a.m. as I watch a Christmas movie (title purposely left unnamed) and start to arrange my Christmas decorations. I am in my second year in a tiny apartment, allowing little room for a traditional “live” tree (yeah, it’s actually dead by the time it becomes a holiday decoration, but we still call it “live” or “real”), so I am arranging the wire branches of a wee, three-foot artificial tree that have been compacted for storage since January. Artificial trees are, frankly, bollocks.

But here’s the source of my rumination: I recall attending a co-worker’s Christmas party several years ago and, seeing the incredibly “perfect” tree in his living room, asking if it was artificial. After all, such perfection only comes man-made from a box. Turns out the tree was real.

It’s true, no? Look in nature and it’s beauty often lies in its imperfection. The little nuances and peculiarities that abound in nature are precisely the allure of its beauty. The uniqueness of it is its divine glory.

And yet man fancies that his refined creations somehow surpass that which we find in the natural world. Sincerely, man makes a glorious attempt. But I think of the line in “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade”: “Ask yourself, why do you seek the Cup of Christ? Is it for His glory, or for yours?”

Again, this is not a theological treatise. I guess I’m just noting that however perfect our substitutes for natural creations, they fall short. I would rather a genuine Charlie Brown Christmas tree (not the plastic, perfect production piece sold in Walgreens each year), you know, an earth-grown twig barely capable of bearing two bulbs and three lights, than the most aesthetically perfect faux fir known to man. 

In the meantime, I twist, tweak, bend and bow the twined branches of my three-foot faker to ready it for a strand of lights and the handful of personal ornaments (John Elway, Dan Marino, the Yellow Submarine and The Beatles and others) that I am left with after 22 years of marriage dissolved (not really kosher to hang the “Our First Christmas” ornaments anymore, eh?).

Next year I’ll reach for the perfection of imperfection.

p.s. I am clearly in a Christmas funk; just bought Christmas cards with glitter on them. I hate glitter. But they have polar bears, which are way cool, even if they’ve been commercialized with a little bottle of Coca-Cola in one’s paw. And I think polar bears really are the reason for the season. (Wink)

p.p.s. I seem to have lost my digital camera and my phone does poorly in low light. Hence the crappy photo quality.

200

I’m getting fat. The winter weight is bloating my body and I don’t like it. I’m like a squirrel or a bear, except that I’ll have no shortage of sustenance this winter, so the pounds are just piling up.

Run 5 miles, lose 3.4 pounds. Nice!

Time to exercise some self-discipline. No, not that kind, perv.

I need to run more. I need to eat better. I need to drink less. Sleep more. Find a routine that’s healthier than staying up late watching movies just because I worked until 9:30 or 10 p.m.

Everyone knows I bike everywhere around town. It is my preferred mode of transportation. And they know I run. But I bike for the joy of it and to get from point A to point B. I rarely pedal like I mean it. You know, like a fitness biker. If plodding or trudging could apply to bicycling, that’s my speed. I trundle along at a leisurely pace. Yeah, it’s certainly healthier than driving – and cheaper – but I’m not really controlling my weight that way. As for running, well, I need to get back to thrice a week and build the miles.

Consider this from the Tao The Ching (The Way of Life):

A man of sure fitness, without making a point of his fitness,

Stays fit;

A man of unsure fitness, assuming an appearance of fitness,

Becomes unfit.

Tempted, but I left them in case somebody
decides to come back for them.

There’s more to that verse (No. 38 in my translation), but I like to focus on the opening lines. I’m not really a fraud, but people have a different view of me than do I. That’s true for all of us, I suppose, but I feel false when others comment on my apparent fitness, based on their observation of my cycling and running habits. So I’d just like to set the record straight.

I’m somewhat of a slacker at times. It’s too easy to sleep in when you don’t have to be at work until after noon most days. Damn, I should have stuck to my drums. I certainly could enjoy the rocker’s daily schedule (at least as portrayed by Stewart Copeland, whose memoir I’m reading now, and other rock stars whose bios I’ve read). I feel the weight difference. I confirmed it the other day and again today, stepping on the scale before my afternoon run and reading an even 200.

I don’t care what you weigh. I’m not judging anybody else here. This is about my body image and my happiness. And I’m not happy at 200 pounds. Granted, it’s 15 to 20 pounds less than I weighed two and a half years ago when I started running, so that’s good. But I got down to 185 that summer. Now, maybe that’s doable again, maybe it’s a manageable weight. Frankly I’d be happy at 190. I’d been hovering at 193 this past summer. I’d take that back. Time to get to work.

Christmas is not the best time to try to lose 10 pounds. But it’s not too early for a New Year’s resolution is it?

Free beer! Woo Hoo!

Today’s Stats (12/18/12)

Temp: 49 degrees F

Distance: 5 miles

Weekly Total: 5 miles

Treasure: 35 cans (including 1 full Busch beer and 1 unopened by leaking can of Busch); 1 homemade Mix CD (“Old School Slow Jams”).

iPod Playlist (Shuffle)

Lucky Star – Madonna

Beautiful – Christina Aguilera

Floating Back (live) – The Call

Somebody’s Baby – Jackson Browne

Terminal Frost – Pink Floyd

Don’t Let it End – Styx

Drink (acoustic) – Fiction Plane

Tell Me What You Want – The Beatles

Rosanna – Toto

For a Dancer (live) – Jackson Browne

By My Side – JJ Grey & Mofro

Dream On – Glee Cast Feat. Neil Patrick Harris

Today's Stats (12/11/12)

Temp: 29 degrees F

Distance: 4.6 miles

Weekly Total:4.6  miles

Treasure: 14 cans.

iPod Playlist (Running Playlist):

Wait Until Tomorrow – John Mayer

I lost the between songs because my iPod battery died before I made the list. I always write down the first and last to know the end points. Damned battery.

California – James Taylor and Joni Mitchell

Do the Hustle: Part 2

So the debate rages on. Did we run a 5K Saturday or didn’t we? Seems likely the answer is no. Do I care? Mayhap. I mean, not really. 

I think pretty much everybody who ran the Santa Hustle on Dec. 1 in Chicago did it for fun. Was I bummed to realize I didn’t set a PR (everybody seems to be using that abbreviation and I finally figured out it must mean “personal record”). Then again, I was skeptical from the get-go, given my PR is something in the 27:47 range. I doubted the veracity of a 26:41 time.

That said, I can understand the disgruntlement of the serious runners who like to track their time in every race. Sort of. Do I sound wishy-washy? I consider it a result of a brilliant mind, able to see both sides of an argument and, in the case of one that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme, granting validity to both sides. Doesn’t matter, you cry? I am reminded of a quote by former Buffalo Bills coach Marv Levy, related to me by my ex-wife. To paraphrase, because I am unsure of the exact quote and am too lazy to look it up for purposes of this blog, Levy, when asked by a reporter if an upcoming game was a “must-win” situation, replied, “No. World War II was a must-win.”

Perspective.

For those of you who didn’t read part 1 of this Santa Hustle recap (or don’t remember what I wrote four days ago), it appears the Santa Hustle 5K wasn’t. As in wasn’t a 5K. The course by some calculations came up short. Reading through the Facebook comments, I found reports of 2.86 miles, 2.8 miles, 3.11 miles, 3.13 and 3.0 miles. Those commenters used a variety of reputable, or at least known, run-mapping apps and online services.  

The trouble spot appears to be the tunnel under McCormick Place. Let me tell you, that stretch was more trouble than simply disrupted GPS signal. The pavement there was dodgy and those of us wearing sunglasses were wise to remove them to get a better view of the tricky terrain, lest we twist an ankle.

Anyway, if one can get past the question of course length, the run itself was pure joy. Well organized, well attended, it screams for a repeat next year. I like this run as much as Monster Dash. I’ve been asked why I would drive all the way to Chicago to run a 5K. Well, they don’t have races like that down here. I love the races I’ve run in the area: Bix 7, CASI St. Patrick’s Day 5K, Kewanee Run Your Ice Off, RR Days, Run Galesburg Run, Bishop Hill Swedish Stomp. But the costume runs are something special. Not that some folks don’t dress up special for Bix and the St. Patrick’s Day run.

Back to the Santa Hustle. The bigger races I’ve been in, the ones with thousands of runners, all group runners by estimated mile pace. That helps prevent a bunch of slowpokes (like me) from clogging the front and hurting the times of real runners. Now, I’ll admit, Ellen and I stretched it a little by placing ourselves in the 9-minute corral. I don’t think we hurt anybody. But the brilliant thing about the Santa Hustle is that the pace corrals are roped off and the volunteer elves move the ropes and runners up to the start at 2-minute intervals. This staggered start has the effect of spacing everyone out and allowing for each group to start off actually running, thus letting the runners find their individual paces faster. Monster Dash, by comparison, was a mob scene that prohibited running until about two or three blocks into the race.

Another plus for the Santa Hustle: Gatorade. Most races offer water. The Hustle had water and little cups of Gatorade or some similar sports drink. Nothing super special, but I liked the option and went for it. I also grabbed a cup of mini M&Ms, though I didn’t try to eat them on the run. Learned my lesson on eating while running at Monster Dash when I tried to gobble a Nestle’s Crunch on the run. I think the mini M&Ms are perfect for choking on while gasping for air. No thanks.

Anyway, the race finish was lined with tables of water, bananas, crackers and other snacks. There were after parties at seven bars downtown. We had our own, hosted by Mike and Ellen Baum, complete with Zing Zang Bloody Marys and an assortment of amazing food.

I recommend the Santa Hustle to anyone looking for a fun run. And if you want to make a donation while you’re there, you’ll help the Toys for Tots program in the process.

Today's Stats

Temp: 34 degrees F (outside)

Distance: 3 miles

Weekly Total: 3 miles

Treasure: Nothing – wimped out and ran indoors tonight.

iPod Playlist (Running Playlist):

Warehouse – Dave Matthews Band

Rock and Roll Music – The Beatles

Songbird – Kenny G

Tom Sawyer – Rush

Never Gonna Give YouUp – Rick Astley

I’m Amazing – Keb’ Mo’

Theme From Alamo Bay – Ry Cooder