The AT...just got some pictures back

For those of you who enjoyed my three day odyssey on the Appalachian Trail, a few pictures...

Home sweet home:





Sunrise on the Trail:



The now-famous stove (still have to get one of those!):



Whenever I travel, my daughter insists I take "The Lion" with me. It's been on pretty much every trip I have been on since she has been born. Here is The Lion on the AT:



My friend David, studying the map, and ready to hike:

CAN

You don't have to be a triathlete to be moved by THIS VIDEO.

It's Team Hoyt. Here is Together, ANOTHER VIDEO explaining the backstory.

Some Kid News...

My friends Matt and Michael's baby, Baily, is doing much better. Her temperature spiked and wouldn't come down, so they took her to the hospital. Turns out she had a simple virus. Everything is fine, with her. I'm reminded of those panic-filled moments we all went through as parents of our first children: getting nervous every time they cried, wanting to wrap them in bubble wrap for the car rides, staying up until the wee hours of the morning when they had a cold...

On another note, my other friend Michael continues to struggle to find out what's going on with his son, Jack. Please say a prayer for them to find out what's going on, for Jack's healing, and for patience for their family.

Shakedown Street...

In Minsk airport, we got past the passport women and ran into the buzzsaw that is the suitcase weighing station. In Belarus, inventory is VERY important, so they track everything in and out of the country (as well as everything around the country). I am not joking about this. Last year, our swingset was “quarantined” for a week because we did not account for the nuts and bolts the held it together separately. The President of the country issued a special order that released it…and you wonder why change is sloooooooow to come to Belarus.

Anyway, they weigh the suitcases and then fine you for suitcases that are over 55 lbs. or for additional suitcases beyond the two allotted to each person. It’s basically a government-sponsored shakedown. We were anticipating this, and had set aside Rubles to deal with the problem. As we are discussing things with the agent, Pastor Michael arrives. He begins speaking with the customs agent and we are passed through without the fines, the haggling and the occasional shouting that accompanies these things. Later, I learned what happened.

The agent said to Pastor Michael, “You must pay the fines for heavy suitcases, and for extra suitcases.”
“I never pay the fine,” Pastor Michael replied.
“But we will fine you—you must pay,” said the agent.
Pastor Michael looked at him. “I am a man of God. These people are with me. If you do not let them go, you will have problems with God.”
The man let us pass without further comment.

It amazes me, still. I cannot imagine how that would work in this country. But Pastor Michael is sure of himself, of his strength in God…so sure, in fact, he can convince government agents that fining silly Americans would be a bad move. We also meet Galina, who speaks some English.I learn she is a Pastor at several satellite churches of the main K. church, and acts as Pastor Michael’s right hand…and arm, probably. I like her immediately.


We load the suitcases into the van and begin the three-hour ride to K. church.

I'm Thinking He Needs to Ride More...

More great/oddly disturbing pictures of this caterpillar infestation can be seen at THIS SITE. Spooky, man....

Advertisement...

I really liked THIS AD from my friend Joe...

Detente in Minsk Airport

We flew into the concrete bunker architecture of Minsk airport. Some of you may recall my meeting with the passport woman in Minsk last year (For more on my past relationships with the Passport women of Minsk airport, scroll down and read PART II [JULY 8, 2005] HERE). My goal is to make them smile, a kind of detente. Anyway, I went up to the passport window, said, “Здравствуйте” and smiled at the woman behind the glass. Reflexively, it seemed, she smiled back. There were no teeth with it, but it reached up, gently, to her eyes. I got my passport back, thanked her (спасибо!), and smiled, which she retturned, even more the second time. It was a beautiful thing.

Thoughts on My Thoughts?

One of the cool things about blogs is that they can become interactive. If you see something that you like or hate, something that inspires you, moves you, makes you sick or just brings a memory to mind, there's a way you can share it. At the end of each post there's a little area on the bottom right that says "COMMENTS".

You can click on this and leave your comment, thought, whatever. I have even enabled anonymous comments, as some people prefer to remain out of sight--prefectly fine with me as the spammers have not yet invaded this blog.

So I'll continue to Blog, you can comment and maybe we'll learn a thing or two from one another. All the best.

Moooooooooo...ving on to Minsk

We are traveling from Warsaw to Minsk, Belarus today. From Minsk we’ll take a bus to K., which is going to be a haul, I am told. Translation: eat a good breakfast. Surprisingly, the hotel has a very good European continental breakfast. I have a couple of hard-boiled eggs, muesli, fruit, sausage, and, on a dare, a fish paste on a biscuit with a black olive and tomato…delicious, actually.

The trip from the hotel to the airport was an easy one, except I got packed in with a bunch of suitcases. C’est la vie. The airport itself, however, was another story. It’s a mess, desperately in need of an efficiency expert. I think that Poland’s opening itself to trade with the west (EU, NATO, etc.) has led to huge jumps in business opportunities, tourism and the like. The effect on its small and clearly overworked capital airport is immediately obvious. It’s a small airport, smaller even, in my estimation, than Harrisburg (PA).

The inefficiency starts at the door. There are no signs regarding where to go. What there is is a throng of swimming humanity, featuring people packed in like sardines (a claustrophobic’s nightmare), so thick there is no room to even walk. I think immediately of an Indian railway station. We were redirected, several times, to different parts of the airport, which meant wading through the crowds. When we finally got through to the line we were supposed to be in, it was miles long—it was obvious we were going to miss our flight. I was missing my friend Don’s experience with handling International flights.

It was at this point that an official-looking woman, an angel really, opened the business class line especially for us and we scooted to the front of the line. Previously, we had changed a transfer. As a result, our tickets required a special sticker, which was only available at a different window. Tink and I grabbed the tickets and ran over to the window, where we were greeted by a man with very little English. Needless to say, our Polish is a little rusty…In the midst of us pantomiming what we needed, a second (English-speaking) angel appeared and explained our situation to the man, and started telling him we needed these things right away…SO HURRY! He was hurrying, but clearly a sense of urgency means something quite different to Polish bureaucrats than it does to you and me (with apologies if you’re a Polish bureaucrat reading this). The woman returned and helped us get our tickets processed quickly at the gates.

It’s funny, because this is normally the kind of thing that would frustrate and infuriate me. Others in the group expressed these emotions. For some reason, I just knew we would make the flight. It was a very calming feeling, transcendent really. I am trying now to keep it close to my heart, for those times when I need it. We boarded the plane and took off for Minsk.

A Simple Request...

Hello my friends.

I wanted to ask you for two quick prayer requests. My friends Michael (whom a lot of you may know from MEGALOI) and Jamie's baby, Jack, has been sick A LOT this summer. Last week he spiked a 104 fever had had his blood drawn 3 days in a row. Over the weekend they got some good test results and thought he was doing better. Last night, however, his mother, Jamie, took his temp and he's back to 101.8.

Second, my neighbor (also Michael) just had a baby, Baily, and she has been back to the hospital already. They suspect it's a virus, but tests thus far have been inconclusive.

If you could pray for these two children, and their families, I would really appreciate it. A simple prayer for illumination of what's wrong, strength for their families, and healing for the children would be very much appreciated.

James 5:16
Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

Ryan's Fish....Two Perspectives

The infamous fish from Warsaw:


And, a different perspective, post-Tink's photoshopping magic (perhaps this explains Ryan's hesitance to eat it):

On the Street: Warsaw

Like most major cities, Warsaw has a host of street performers. I'm not a HUGE fan of the squeeze box, but I have to admit, these guys were VERY good.



This guy was intriguing as well. He stood absolutely still, until you put a couple Zloti into his cup. Then he became an animated robot. Very cool.

Some Additional Warsaw Pics...

Some views from the top of the aforementioned Cultural Palace:







Further proof that Disney rules the world:


I REALLY want one of these:



Memorial to the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising during WWII:

More Music...not quite so beautiful

Somebody must have had quite a bit of time to put THIS together. Pretty amazing watching Bush channeling Bono...

Making Beautiful Music

I thought THIS was absolutely amazing. I hope you like it, too...check out how the balls in the background continue to make the proper sounds in real time. VERY cool!

Warsaw, Poland

We flew into Poland and met up with Victoria, our guide/interpreter for the city. I know all about the Polish jokes. They’re not true. Victoria is an example, speaking English, Polish, Czech, and Bulgarian. She is in the process of learning French…I’m such a piker.

Victoria took us to the old city of Warsaw.

During World War II, the Germans had bombed it, reducing it to rubble (and those were the big parts). Unlike the city of Minsk, where they replaced everything with what I called the Concrete Bunker Style of Architecture, the Polish people did something remarkable (again, the jokes just aren’t warranted). They collected all the old photographs people had, interviewed the survivors in the city (especially the older residents), found blueprints and plans, and then rebuilt the city to its original splendor (that’s splendour to my international friends). It is one of the most beautiful, cleanest cities I have ever visited.

In the center of the town there is a square that contains a series of restaurant's, tables and the like. You sit down in the section related to the restaurant of your choice.

We sat down and Brad gave me some helpful advice on ordering internationally (Note: this will work pretty much wherever you are). I said to the waiter, "I am only in the country for one day, so I need you to bring me whatever the very best thing is at this restaurant. Don't even tell me what it is. Just bring out what you thing makes this restaurant and this country special." Brad said, "I'll take whatever the second-best thing is." We tried to get Ryan to get the third thing was, but he was insistent upon ordering. He ordered the trout.

Our meals came out: I got a deboned half duck, cooked to perfection, with a sliced peach and a berry sauce on it, served with potato fritters. Amazing. I shared with Brad who got a goose leg, with a glaze and fresh vegetables. Ryan got the trout. With, as is common in international dining, the tail on. And the head. Ryan was a little freaked out. Now I'm not one to say, "I told you so"....but "I told you so."

[Interesting side note: When I got back from Belarus, I was going through my Inbox and found THIS QUIZ,called Don't Gross Out The World. It's a few questions to find out what you know about International Ettiquette when it comes to eating. One of the questions was specifically about eating fish in Poland. I'll let you take the quiz rather than spoil it. Good luck.]

We walked through the city, which feels a lot more like a town, actually. Friendly people, CLEAN streets, beautiful architecture. One of the more interesting buildings we saw was the Cultural Palace. During the Soviet era, Stalin gave the people of Poland a gift. This building:

It is the tallest building in the entire city of Warsaw. While it was called a gift, it was really a reminder to the Polish people that they were under Stalin’s control, under the domination of the Soviet Union, and this reminder was given so that people across the entire capital could see it. Victoria explained it was to serve as an eternal reminder of Stalin’s superiority. I asked, Uh…yeah. Where is he now.” Victoria smiled, knowingly.

This is what it looked like to us:

Not so impressive, really. The cool thing is that they’ve turned it into a museum, and you can go to the top and look over the entire city. It’s just as beautiful a city from the top as from the bottom.

We went back to the hotel and spent the night thinking about what tomorrow would bring: Minsk, K., Pastors Mike and Galina. As beautiful as the city is, we are all anxious to start the REAL legs of our journey: K. Church and Belinichi. I slept like a baby…

On the First Leg of the Journey...

Note: I did not take a lot of pictures on this trip, so I’m relying on other team members for their photographs. I’ll fill in the blanks as best I can until I get those shots.

The ride from Harrisburg, PA to New York was very long. We ran into traffic jams from Newark all the way into and through the city. You hear a lot about New York Drivers: cutting people off, one finger waves, weaving through traffic, jumping into every opening, motorcycles shooting through the middle “lane” of traffic jams. It’s all true.

Still, there is nothing like seeing the skyline of New York City. I especially enjoyed looking out into the harbor as we went over the bridge and seeing the Statue of Liberty. It was my first post-9/11 trip to the city, and the emotions I felt were unexpected. Sure the traffic is a pain in the butt, but NYC is still an amazing city.

That having been said, the traffic was so bad, we began to worry about missing our flight, from NYC to Warsaw aboard LOT airlines. We arrived at 4.30 for our 6.20 flight, got through airport security and found our flight was delayed an hour. Brad assures me it will be two hours. He is right…sort of. We board at 8.30, but then sit on the runway for another 40 minutes. Takeoff is a beautiful thing, even though its 2 ½ hours late. Still, I’m thinking if that’s the worst thing we run into, we’re doing okay.

An uneventful 9 hour flight later, we are in Warsaw, Poland.

Where was this woman...

...when I needed to pack my suitcase for Belarus? I really could have used this...next time.

Wrapping up My Appalachian Trail Adventure

Day 3

So we hiked out of the Trail into civilization. It was fairly uneventful, except for the first place we reached, a campground. David and I went into the general store and I bought a bag of potato chips and a Coke. Sweet. We went out to the porch and sat and watched the "aluminum city" campers. It was quite a homogenous group, and seemed a stark contrast to the hikers we saw on the trail. Most of these campers were older than us, wore those really bad trucker ballcaps, and sported quite the pot belly, the kind that presents the question: Over or under with the belt? Pickup trucks were a must.

The activity for the morning seemed to consist of bringing the septic system of the camper up to the disposal area. It was the strangest thing I have seen in some time. The pickup trucks lined up, one after the other, each towing their blue septic tanks like a giant Caravan of Crap. Some guys brought their families with them, as it was part of the ritual of family camping time...I suppose. Either way, in consideration of the wind, David and I were on the wrong side and were getting a "whiff of the roses" as the less efficient guys came and went with their tanks.

We were feeling almost superior when this little girl walked past David and said to her mother, "Mommy, that man stinks." It was what I call a "Let-me-get-this-straight" moment, as in "Let me get this straight: there are people over there dumping their feces in a tank, and that smell bothers you less than the way we smell?" Ouch...

I hiked on and my feet were sore, swelling, blistered. What did I learn: Four-year-old shoes might not be the best for a 35 ,mile hike.

David and I hiked out to the Deer Lodge in Mount Holly Springs, where Joan and Katie Rose picked us up. They were happy to see us, but I still didn't get a big hug. I suspect they were afraid of sticking to me. I must really smell bad...

General Impressions
I thought it would be a more spiritual experience than it was. I often find myself closer to God when I'm out in nature, but I think this was so much like work it never got to the point where spiritual reflection was part of it. It's not a bad thing, just unexpected.

I thought about Randy, his family and his son a lot. Those moments when I did pray, it was for their well being and healing. They continue to be on my mind, in my heart and with my prayers.

I missed Joan and Katie a lot--much more than I expected. I was only gone for two and a half days, but with no cell phone, no Internet and no smoke signals (THE STOVE[!!!] is not so good for that), the separation was palpable, difficult. I did not expect it, but it made coming together, after a shower, so much better, which I suppose is one reason we go on these things in the first place: to put into perspective how important people are, especially our families. I'm certain David felt the same way, though we didn't talk about it.

Sleep uphill. Sleeping downhill or sidehill is inadvisable. Just trust me on this one...David!

I came back to a party. It was a tough thing to do, with all of the noise: kids yelling, music playing, fireworks going off. It was a system overload after being on the silence of the trail.

Last but not least: Ice and elevate feet.

Back from Belarus

I just got back from my mission trip to Belarus. Reports from the trip, including people, places, miracles (large and small) will follow. I wanted to let you know, dear readers, that all went well. Stay tuned, and thank you for your kind thoughts and prayers...

Appalachian Trail...Day 2

Day 2

I awoke at 5.30 am to the whippoorwill still crying his lonely song. I got up, got THE STOVE (!!!!) out and lit it with my lighter: sah-weet! I also found my knife, so my day was pretty much complete before 6.00 am. I boiled some water on the stove, and made coffee with Folger’s Coffee bags. It was absolutely atrocious. But even that nasty tidal water they allege was coffee couldn’t dampen my day.
What I learned: Those coffee bags are totally nasty—get real coffee and find a way to make it.

David was up throughout the night and was bitter about not sleeping much. He asked me to ask God if he could have another hour of sleep, so I said a prayer. He fell back to sleep almost immediately and slept for…an hour. I am naturally a morning person, so being alone in the dawn was just fine with me.

After David woke up, we had three oatmeals between the two of us (perfect!) and some beef jerky. We broke camp and washed our dishes and filled our water bottles on the way out of the camp…now you’re learnin’, boyos! True to form, as soon as we hiked down the hill, we were faced with an uphill climb on the opposite side. We set off past a few other hikers who were also breaking camp, including one bushy-looking through-hiker who had that distinct trail smell. I’m pretty sure we’ll have it by the end of our trip. I wonder if I have it now, and I just don’t know it.

We hiked about 13 miles to Pine Grove Furnace. The terrain was unbelievably rocky, and the scenery absolutely stinks in this area Pennsylvania. First, the rocks. There is a rumor going around among hikers that Pennsylvanians hate through-hikers, and spend the off-season sharpening the stones on the trail. There might be something to this. I likened them to alligator teeth; they all seem to be just the wrong size, and they all seem to be pointing up. Other areas had large turtleback stones. It would have been a welcome change, except that with all the rain, they were slippery and thus, more treacherous than the alligator teeth. Where it wasn’t covered with rocks, it was a low-lying swamp.

The scenery was trees, shrubs and bushes. Trees to the left, shrubs to the right, and bushes surrounding them. There were a couple of points where we came out and there was a clearing, and one spot where we came out to an overlook. It was only about 40 feet down, but comparatively speaking, it was breathtaking. Everything being said: it was some tough slogging. Hay foot, straw foot, one in front of the other.

The other thing is that trail mix, while good and filling, didn’t have enough carbohydrates for me. I started to feel a little uneasy, so David broke out a pound cake, which hit the spot right on time. I also stopped to dunk my head in a stream and dinged my knee standing up. It was tough going as the knee stiffened up a bit, and I poured some water on it (STINGS!!! OW-OW-OW-OUCH!!!).

As I said before, there are characters you meet on the trail. At one point, David and I are walking and talking. We get around to one of two our favorite topics: snakes (the other is The Simpsons). So we’re talking and marveling at how we haven’t seen any snakes. On the trail, things are very secluded, and you get the sense, at times, you could be the last surviving people on the planet, and you won’t know it until you break out into civilization. It’s in this setting, quiet solitude, talking about snakes, that this voice comes from directly behind David: “I SAW SOME SNAKES!” I was in front, and I jumped. David instinctively drew back his walking stick and was about to give this idiot, who had snuck up behind us, the business end of the stick. I think the only thing that saved the guy is the way he looked: like Jim Neighbors with a mustache, wearing shorts and black socks. He chatted for about thirty seconds as he hiked through and moved on ahead—again, we never saw him again. When you see someone on the trail, you immediately size tehm up for the otential danger they present—this guy was saved by the fact that, looking at him, he presented none. I think in hindsight, he will probably not sneak up on anybody again, especially two guys walking through the forest. He might also want to consider carrying tic-tacs in his pocket.

When we arrived in Pine Grove, we went to the General Store and got a Coke. It was still warm, but delicious. I tried to call home, but there was no phone coverage. The park was a disaster, with the storm having destroyed huge sections of trees, trails and park. There were even areas of road washed away. We found an area to set up camp, and did so. Then we hiked down to the stream, about 100 feet away, and I waded in to cool off—so sweet, and so cold. Climbing out, I saw a mouse trapped by the edge of the stream, obviously dying. I took a large log, and finished him. I felt bad, awful really, but it was the best thing to do for him.

So we went back to the camp and made Ramen Noodles with the stove. After dinner, we were bored, so we…took a walk, of course. We added another 4 miles, bringing our day’s total to 17 miles. During the walk out, David got the feeling things were moving, and need to make an unscheduled pit stop. The problem: we had no toilet paper. “Uh…Rob. I’ve got a problem.” The solution? I cut the sleeves off my shirt and he used them. “You’re welcome. No, I don’t need them back.”
What I learned: There are advantages to shopping for camping clothes at Goodwill before the trip. $2 shirts and $3 shorts. You don’t miss them when they are gone.

We came back to camp and got finished setting up, and I went to hang the bear bag. We couldn’t find it. The dilemma then became where was it (lost, dropped) and what could we do to replace it? I opted to put the food in my tent bag and throw that up in a tree. Then David found the bear bag…UNDER HIS TENT! So, the bear bag was under David’s tent, with food in it. That could have made for a less-than-pleasant evening, to be sure. We hung it far from the tents.

That night we saw several people come through on the trail, including one girl who was left by the other people in her party. Class move. She seemed to be catching up, and I have little doubt she did. Still, though…

That night, it rained pretty hard. I stayed dry, but David's stuff got soaked.He was, predictably, miffed...

The Appalachian Trail....Day 1

The Back Story
David and I used to teach together, more than ten years ago. I left the district and eventually the profession, and David moved away. We had always been good friends, but over time we drifted apart—distance and time can do that to a friendship. About two years ago, he called me out of the blue. I had been going through a rough spot, and the call came at a good time to talk with someone with history. The short story version: we ended up getting together to go fishing, and now get together three or four times a year to go. He has a wife and young daughter, like me, so it takes a commitment on both our parts (he still teaches, so it might be a little easier on him), but it’s worth it for both of us.

Last summer, he hiked a portion of the Appalachian Trail. He loved it, and of course called me to see if I wanted to go with him this year. Having hiked as a younger man (college and shortly after, so it’s been a while), I thought it would be fun.

Day 1
After the funeral, David’s wife Jenny drove us down to Caledonia, PA where the Appalachian Trail (AT to those who’ve hiked on it) crosses at the Thaddeus Stevens Iron Furnace. Stevens was a Civil War era abolitionist who eventually became one of the most powerful Senators in the history of the United States (his bio).

We arrived at Caledonia at about 1 o’clock, geared up and set out to the north. Hiking in, everything was soaking wet from the torrential downpours we have had in the northeastern section of the country. The Caledonia section starts in a low-lying area, so David and I had to hike through some pretty ugly swamps just to get moving forward. [Note: Throughout this entire experience we learned a lot of things in hindsight. As such, you’ll see these entries peppered with statements about what we learned.]
What we learned: Take your hiking shoes off at the swampy areas. Put on a pair of sandals, hike through it, then put your dry hiking shoes on your dry feet.

The first mile or so had two steep climbs, the first about 600 feet and the second about 700 feet, so the first section was a tough place to get reacquainted with the mechanics of hiking. Still, I think we acquitted ourselves quite well (read as: we didn’t bag it right there, catch a cab and hike to a hotel that served beer and wings).

We hiked to the first shelter, about 4 miles. It was a beautiful, well-maintained shelter, with a spring. David explained that it’s a good idea to take your shoes off at certain points to keep your feet from swelling and to let them breathe a little, so we did that. In a hiking situation, you’re bound to run into characters, and we did so at this point. He had a nervous twitch—on his entire face. Afterward, David and I tried to figure out if this twitch was hiking induced, and came to the conclusion he was a high school shop teacher. “Twitchy” was trying to put in about 15 miles a day, which would have put him on the same pace as us. It is not uncommon to see the same characters throughout a hike, at rest areas, shelters, watering holes and the like. We never saw Twitchy again.

While at the shelter, we walked down to the spring to get more water. David had brought a carbon-based water filtration system, where you put the water into a container, then squeeze it out through a carbon filter, removing particles that make you sick (I’ll spare you the suspense—it worked the whole trip. Thank God!)
What we Learned: Chlorine tablets would be so much easier that this stupid, %$#@, &^%*(!), squeeze bottle.

Lunch was eaten while walking. David had brought a trail mix of nuts, granola and M&Ms (melt in your mouth, not in your hand). Not bad at all. In about 4 hours, we had covered 8 miles, which is what we had planned. We hiked down a massive hill and arrived at an area that had a stream. We decided to hike back up the hill and set up camp. Then we realized even though we had a little water, we would need some later, so we went back down the hill, got the water with the stupid, %$#@, &^%*(!), squeeze bottle, then hiked back up.
What we learned: If you stop and think for a second, you can save yourself a lot of time and aggravation.

So we set up camp, and then David brought out THE STOVE. This thing is awesome! We put a dish of water on it for Ramen noodles and heated it up. It took about two minutes to come to a boil: sah-weet! For dinner, I had Ramen noodles with organic miso (I can’t eat the regular packets that come with the noodles because they are loaded with monosodium glutamate, commonly called msg, which causes all kinds of bad stuff with me. I also had some organic beef jerky from my local Giant Supermarket (so happy they carry this, as msg is in jerky as well). We also had cold(!) orangeade and pound cake for dessert. Then we had to wash the dishes…at the bottom of the hill….again.
What we Learned: apparently nothing.

Came back to camp and hung the bear bag away from the camp. This supposedly keeps very large omnivores from coming into your camp, and dining at the buffet table of food, tents, and campers.

Other notes:
--I lost my knife—totally bummed.
--We didn’t see ANY snakes. I was kind of disappointed, David was ecstatic. Normally you see three kinds of snakes on the trail: rattlesnakes, copperheads, and black snakes.
--Fell asleep listening to the loneliest whippoorwill…
--Slept like a baby, and even snored, which is unusual, because I never do.

Child of God

I went to my friend Randy's funeral for his 3 year old son. It was hands-down the hardest thing I have ever sat through. It was also one of the most powerful testaments to the power of God I have seen. Randy's brother said a few words about how he didn't know Drew personally, only through videos and cards and letters and phone conversation. It made me feel like I was in the same place--not really knowing him, but knowing him by association. He showed a video he had of Drew as "The Heavyweight Champion of the World" with a Rocky theme which Drew used to love watching with his dad.

It was heartbreaking, yet amazing in capturing the joy and innocence of a child. Running, playing, doing cartwheels, just being a kid. I have the same videos of my daughter...if you're a parent, you probably have those pictures or videos, too.

Then Randy spoke. I honestly don't know how he found the strength to do it. Since I knew him, he has grown to know God in a similar vein as I have. It was amazing to see this man I had known as a carefree, easy going guy, now expressing his own relationship with God. He talked about many things, but these are the things I came away with. He talked about the day of the accident, and all of the amazing people he met, who helped him, his family and who tried to save his son. He talked about the people at the hospital, strangers who came in to pray with him.

The EMTs and ER doctors kept Drew alive while his mom was being flown in to the Emergency Room. Randy asked them to keep him alive so Marcie could say goodbye. While he was waiting with his son, Randy remembered the day of his son's baptism, how his Pastor, Troy, had taken him around to the congregation and even outside the church, and introduced Drew to the world: This is Drew Michael Taylor: A Child of God. And so, as the doctors, nurses, EMTs and others came to speak with Randy, he introduced them: "This is my son, Drew Michael Taylor, a child of God."

Finally, Marcie did arrive and she was told the news. In another display of strength, she asked the doctors if his organs could be donated. The docs said no, there was too much damage. She asked again, saying, please, there must be some way Drew can help one more person. Again, it took a strength and a courage I cannot even imagine, to even think of this at a time like this.

Randy and Marcie went in to say goodbye to Drew. And then he was gone.

Then Randy had to tell his eight-year-old daughter, Lauren, that her brother was gone. I don't know how I would have handled it. This is how Randy handled it. He got down on his knees and prayed. He asked God to give him the strength and wisdom he needed, because he recognized that this was going to be the most important moment in his life, the moment that defined him as a father. When he told his Lauren, he did it with the strength, the wisdom, the grace and the love of the Holy Spirit.

In the days that followed, people asked the questions one asks, the same ones I did: "How are you and the family holding up?" "Is there anything I can do to help?" One of his friends asked, "What have you learned from this?" At first, I thought it a harsh question. I don't know if Randy did or will experience the rage and disappointment I felt with God when I heard. I suspect it's impossible not to. The thing that struck me was his response to the question. What he learned is the meaning of life. Randy said it all boils down to three things:
The people you love
The people who love you
What can you do for God

...and with that, he left the pulpit, sat down with his family, waited to hear the preachers words, and went out to send Drew Michael Taylor, Child of God, home to Heaven.

Many things have occurred to me since then. I don't think that I take a lot of things for granted, and I have a good grasp on how much God has blessed me. Still, it gave me pause and made me consider how I could spend my time here loving my family and friends more, and better. The other thing that I saw was how God never allowed Randy to be alone. I think at times like this, the worst part is when we are alone in the midst of it. Randy didn't have that. The EMTs, the doctors, the chaplain at the hospital, a local congregation that showed up to help and pray with his family as they recovered from the wreck, the local community, the schools where Randy and Marcie teach, and especially his own church. In all of these people, God made His presence not just known, but felt.

IronMan Florida...

Thought this was a COOL VIDEO...

Appendix...
More later...lots going on. I've been scrapping all my thoughts together and will try to put something together by next week, for those of you still reading. Say a(nother) prayer for my friend Randy and his family, as they lay his son to rest on Saturday morning.

What do you do with this...

A friend of mine, with whom I used to teach was in a car accident. He has a broken back, his wife has a broken leg. His son died.

Crash claims son of area teachers

By LINWOOD OUTLAW III Staff writer
Chambersburg Public Opinion

Scotland School for Veterans' Children boys basketball coach Randy Taylor was injured Tuesday morning in a three-vehicle crash in Corolla, N.C., that killed his 3-year-old son and injured his wife and daughter.

Taylor was driving south on N.C. Interstate 12 in a 1999 Nissan minivan at 10:44 a.m., when a Griggs Lumber Co. truck traveling north -- driven by Gregory Jones of Powells Point, N.C. -- crossed into the southbound lane and collided with both Taylor's vehicle and a 2001 Ford Truck driven by Cynthia Ann Muscia of Kitty Hawk, N.C., according to North Carolina State Highway Patrol 1st Sgt. Craig Garriss.

Taylor's wife, Marcie, daughter Lauren, 7, son Drew, 3, and friend Ann Ditzler, of Conestoga, Pa., were passengers in the minivan. Drew Taylor died from his injuries. All of the others involved in the accident received non-life-threatening injuries, Garriss said.

Garriss said Randy and Marcie Taylor have been taken to Sentara Norfolk General Hospital in Norfolk, Va., for further treatment. He said Lauren Taylor and Ditzler have been released from a local hospital in Virginia.

"To my understanding, their (Lauren Taylor and Ditzler) injuries weren't too severe at all and they have already been released," Garriss said.

Taylor, a Shippensburg resident and also a teacher in the Greencastle-Antrim School District, was an assistant coach under longtime Scotland Cadet coach Gerry Wilson for two years before taking over the program in the 2003-04 season when Wilson retired. In his first season at Scotland, Randy Taylor led the Cadets to a fourth straight District 3 Class A title and the school's 12th overall.

In three years with SSVC, Randy Taylor has compiled a 48-29 record. His team also advanced to the PIAA State Tournament this past winter. Prior to his tenure at SSVC, he was an assistant coach at Chambersburg Area Senior High School under current coach Shawn Shreffler for four years.

Marcie Taylor is a teacher at CASHS.

Garriss said Tuesday's accident is still under investigation and possible charges are pending for Jones.

What the FUCK?

My Personal Mission Statement

I will act as a Renaissance man of God, fusing integrity, creativity, and a lifelong love of learning in all of my endeavors. I will be known, respected, and sought out for excellence in all aspects of my personal and professional life.

Space for Oddity

For some reason, it's just been a weird week. To wit:

God Endorses Governor
First, God, who is normally Republican (I am told) has come out and endorsed Ed Rendell, according to the Reverend Carl Vining. See the story HERE.

During a voter awareness event in the Capitol Rotunda on Tuesday, the incumbent Democrat received word via a Lycoming County minister — a registered Republican, no less — that God has “decreed” he will be re-elected to a second term.

“I was a little stunned, to be honest,” a smiling governor said afterward.

Apparently, the Reverend has a direct line...

“The God of Israel said, ‘One more term,’” the Rev. Vining told Mr. Rendell.

The announcement sparked applause from some in attendance and chuckles from others. The Rev. Vining later insisted it’s no joke.

“God spoke to me to tell Governor Ed Rendell that he was anointed by the God of Israel for another term,” he told a reporter. “That means he’s going to win the election.”

Did God give a reason?

“God has his own reasoning. It’s the will of our father in Heaven,” the Rev. Vining said.

Mission Statement: Possible
The new VP of Sales decreed each of his employees should come up with a personal mission statement. My friend and colleague Mike found this site, which is absolutely perfect.

My first spin: Our business is dedicated to improving the full range of our dynamic metamorphisis by performance and added value second to none.

The scary part? It was better than what I had at that point. Still, developing a mission statement is a surprisingly good exercise. I am really big into self-improvement and learning new things. Quite frankly, I have been surprised by how this process is focusing me. I'll post mine when I finish.

If you would like to do it, too, there are a couple of good sites I'd recommend. Here is one. Here is another.

Triathlon...the open water swim.

I've written about competition swims before, and how, on the two triathlons I have done, I have been "jostled" pretty well. Now, I find out there is a revolutionary new training method that helps triathletes prepare for this eventual jostling. You can CHECK OUT THE VIDEO HERE. I hope this helps people understand...

Ride smartly...

When you're on your bicycle, ride intelligently....Not like THIS GUY.

I did a little better than I thought...

In response to my blog, I got this e-mail from Chris Kaag, President of Corps Fitness and the Got The Nerve? Triathlon coordinator:

Great details into your day's journey. Being the Director of I get to see and hear stories of everyday people pushing themselves more than they thought they could every year. As a Marine and athlete, I know that unbelievable feeling when you finish instead of quitting. My congratulations to you and your accomplishment. Keep digging deep!!

PS the ride was 17.5 miles and the run was 3.4(GPS bleeped out during measuring) so you were faster than you thought...

Christopher T. Kaag

So, I covered an extra 2.7 on the bicycle and threw in another .3 on the run, and added only a little more than 5 minutes to my total time. Not bad at all. Still, though, I'm reading Friel's book to improve...

I got up at 6.30 to go for a run this morning. Nothing major--two miles at a slow pace to get things going and to get everything stretched out. It felt good...still does. And to think, I almost stayed in bed.

Mt. Gretna Triathlon Race Report

2006 Got the Nerve? Sprint Triathlon

Before the Race
I woke up and 4.00 in the morning and was too excited to go back to sleep, so I got up and made myself breakfast. Oatmeal, and a turkey bacon and egg sandwich. Took an apple with me, just in case I wanted it. Learning from LAST YEAR (when I arrived with about an hour to prepare) I got to the race at about 6.00, giving me two hours to get registered, focused and ready. I set up my transition area, according to last year’s plan, and remembered some key points from the previous race: roll down my socks, loosen the laces on my running shoes, close my cycling shoes to the first latch so I could slip into them and slam the ratchet home.

They had a DJ, and normally that would be cool, but today I wanted to spend some time on my own, in my head. I went farther away from that area and found a nice quiet area to be alone with my thoughts. This year I found it harder to get into the “spirit” of the event, to get focused on what it was I was there to do. Don’t get me wrong: it wasn’t that I was disinterested, or bored. It’s just that last year my focus was so singular, my goal so obvious, and the accompanying adrenaline train so overpowering, that everything else became, not secondary (like this year), but nonexistent.

The other thing about races like this is where you set up. I like to set up back in about the middle of the transition area. There are two reasons for this. First, I get the sense that people who take the “pole position” are very serious about this. The last thing I want to do is tick someone off because my transition area is too big, my shoes reflect the sun wrong or my lobster towel upsets their sensibilities to the point where they can’t compete. Second, I like the people in that second tier of athletes. They’re friendlier, gregarious, and usually in the same area as you. I met a guy named Ray, who made Mt. Gretna his first triathlon last year, just like me. Also like me, we talked jokingly but with pride about losing a lot of weight (he had lost over 60 pounds and looked like an athlete), and wanting to put our bodies to different tests, to see how we measured up. His friend, Teddy, was there for her very first triathlon…at 52. Talking with them helped me take my mind off the vague doubts that had crept in earlier, and I felt ready to go.

The Swim
The water was 63 degrees.

Okay, maybe not that cold, but again, I was glad I had a wetsuit…I still think it was warmer than last year. I went out pretty quickly, and felt good going around the first buoy (the course is an inverted triangle in Conewago Lake, Mt. Gretna, swimming out to the first buoy, across to the second, then back to the start area). Going around the buoy, though, things bunched up a bit and people started climbing on each other. I freaked out a little, and even took on a little water. It was hard to get my form back at that point, and a lot of my training left me.

I pushed off to the side a little to get out of the crush and pushed on toward the second buoy. I was slowing down a little, and my form was pretty awful, so I started using my legs, knowing that would hurt me in the next two events. I just wanted to get out of the water. Things did get separated by the second buoy, and I came home with a hard push. I was hoping to see my wife and daughter at that point, but did not. As I came out of the water, I took off my swim cap and goggles, and moved on toward the transition area. Then I heard “There’s Daddy!” and looked over to see my family cheering me on—it put more than just a little bounce in my step.
TIME: 12.07 (which seemed fast for me)

Transition 1
T1 went smooooothly. Socks on, shoes all set up to go and slipped those on, grabbed the bike and went. No problems at all. I’m glad I used the Lobster towel, because it was easy to spot, and my placement was great.
TIME: 2.30

The Bike
So, I hopped on the bike and started pedaling away. About a quarter mile into the course, I hit Pinch Road, with the notorious CLIMB. I was still hurting a little from the swim, but I gritted my teeth and repeated my mantra: “I got no quit in me.” I kept gritting as I passed people up the hill…including more than a few who were walking toward the top. It felt pretty good. There is a brief flat near the top, followed by one last soul-wrenching upward jaunt, and I remembered to get a little speed to attack the hill.

As I coasted down the far side, it occurred to me I had no GU pack, and would have to survive on Gatorade alone. Not such a bad thing for a sprint, but I hate the taste of Gatorade on a ride—too sweet for me. It was a very hilly course, and the wind was brisk (a lot of guys said their bike was MUCH tougher than last year), so a GU pack could have helped.

Anyway, I roll through the bike course as I expected right up until the last mile and a half or so. It was on the last major climb that I looked up and saw a marshal letting a truck onto the course! I’m still not sure what he was thinking—it seemed a REALLY idiotic move to me, as it was supposed to be a closed course. A car followed right behind the truck. So the riders were trying to get up the last hill, with an eighteen-wheeler on the course, passing him on the right. I decided to use my head and hold back just a little to see what happened. We crested the hill, and I remembered a tight right turn at the bottom, followed by one last moderate, but long climb. I started mentally prepping for that.

As I approached the turn, I saw another marshal in the middle of the road, directing traffic in a new direction. “What the heck was going on,” I thought. I found out later there was an accident (no details, but I have my suspicions that one of those cars got tangled with a bike or two) and they redirected the race so they could attend to the scene. This added an extra two miles to the course…and one more climb…just for fun.
TIME: 1.02.52

Transition 2
Linguine legs! Oh my goodness…I did this last year, and had it a little, but this year was like learning to walk again. Still, I busted into the transition area, threw on my shoes, sucked a GU and went.
TIME: 1.53 THAT IS FAST!!! 49th fastest in the entire competition!

The Run
Last year, I didn’t have to battle “linguine legs” but it took a long time to find my stride. This year, the wobble was, obviously, much worse, but I found my stride more quickly. I also knew from last year that going out (it’s an out and back course on a rail-trail) there was a false flat going downhill on the course. Last year I was thoroughly demoralized when I turned and realized I needed to go uphill. This year I was ready for it, so that was better.

I reached the turnaround and I was hurting. I went a little farther and I was really suffering. The pain in my legs was really intense (lactic acid is fuel, my butt!) and my lungs were burning. I started thinking about pain, and my mind wandered to a lot of places. I said my mantra: “I got no quit in me.” Up ahead, I saw a place on the trail I remembered (one of the tough things about this trail is it all looks the same) and knew I was getting closer. I pushed it a little harder and the pain ratcheted up a notch. “I got no quit in me.” I thought about Lance, and Chris Kaag, and Jesus, and about the nature of pain and suffering. “I got no quit in me.” I hit the tarmac, which is about half a mile from the finish, and I started lengthening my stride a little, stretching it out just a bit more. I have been hurt worse before (blew out my ACL in a football game) but I don’t recall ever hurting this badly for this long. I looked up and saw the turn for home up ahead, and I really started pushing it. “I got no quit in me.” I made the turn, down the stretch and saw the clock—I was approaching 1:56 and change. I actually did a quick measurement in my head and took off our staggered start times (the mind really is incredible…) and realized I could make it in less than 1:50 if I pushed it…so I did. I finished and felt, pain, but also elation. I had done it…again. “I got no quit in me.”
TIME: 32.31 I felt good about this, and was surprised it was that quick, given how much I was hurting.

TOTAL TIME: 1.48.07 (up from 1.42.50 last year, but there was an extra 2 miles and a hill on the bike)
Note: Numbers do not include those who DNF (Did not Finish)
Overall Place: 297/498
Place by Age: 41/57 (which I don’t think is bad, since I’m 39, racing in the 35-39 category...though I'd like to be stronger, next year!)
Place by Sex: 239/342


Thoughts and Ruminations
After the race, I stopped at a local Giant supermarket. If you ever want a study in contrasts, go to a sporting event with participants and then go to a grocery store. I was shocked by all of those lean, toned athletes who train and work to get to a point of competition, how they set themselves apart from others. I stood in line at the store, my race numbers still on my arm, the last of my runners high still in my body, as I watched…you know what? I can’t even go there. It was too depressing.

The next day, I went out and bought The Triathlete’s Training Bible by Joe Friel. I want to start doing this, and I want to do it right…better. Science seems like a good place to start. I also looked for triathlon magazines, which were not available at my bookstore. Funny thing, though: There were the usual magazines: Bicycle, Runner’s World, that sort of thing. But, they were tucked away in the back of the rack. The front of the rack? It was stuffed with Fantasy Baseball and Fantasy Football. I had to laugh as I walked away, thinking how much more amazing reality is.

My friend Ogedei finished his first triathlon this weekend. My friend Eric is talking about doing one. Why not you?

Tri to Get Up the Hill

So, I'm looking at the bike route for the triathlon I'm getting ready to do, and thinking about the hill that's in the first quarter or half mile. The first climb is a bear, as are the two at the end, right before the run. That should give the legs a little extra wobble, to be sure.

Two more days and I am getting PUMPED!!!!! (As long as I don't drown...

...or get eaten).

Great Quote!

I found this quote in my wanderings today, and thought it was "Bully!":

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

--Theodore Roosevelt

Rube Goldberg Builds a Car...

...and of course, it's a Honda. "Isn't it nice when things just...work?"

How tough are you?

I'm not sure I'm as tough as Julie Moss, who crawled to second place in her IronMan in 1982. Pretty amazing.

Sick...

My daughter was home sick yesterday. I tried to go out for a light training ride last night and couldn't pedal to save my life. So I'm wondering, "What's going on?" I woke up last night and realized what's going on. This morning I've been working on my running/sprinting, as I make the dash between the cubicle and the bathroom. It's not a 5k, but there have been times when it's felt like it. Drinking lots of water, eating super clean, and praying it passes (so to speak) quickly...

Finally, a Way to Save on Bike Clothes

If you're tired of how expensive cycling clothes have become, you could take a lesson from the women at You Knit What? and knit your own.

Triathlon "To-do List"

Found this at Beginner Triathlete:

The List
By Scott Tinley

The following are a few little tidbits I picked up while I was a triathlete for 25 years:

Leg cramps suck.

If it's hot outside, you ought to drink some water.

There are only two reasons to drop out of a race: The first is if you manage to break your right femur; the other is if you have busted the left one. Beyond that, I can't think of any reason not to finish.

Don't ever be intimidated by hard, tan, hairless bodies. The veneer is not a window to the heart and the mind - the two parts that actually count.

Don't be afraid of sharks when swimming in the ocean. "Jaws" was a fictional movie.

Chicks don't necessarily dig scars.

If you ever get the chance to sing the national anthem before the start of a race, do it. Just make sure you know the words, and start an octave lower than you normally sing.

Sunscreen is overrated. Hats are underrated. [NOTE: The only one I disagrred with--try the Coppertone Sport!]

It's OK to sprint the final 100 yards of a race even if you have walked 90 percent of the distance. You paid the damn entry fee.

There are two kinds of cyclists. Those who have crashed and those who are going to crash.

The next time you enter a race and all your friends of yours are crowded around, waiting, excited, nervous and the water looks a bit intimidating but strangely inviting nonetheless, appreciate what goes into putting on a triathlon.

Keep a pair of swim goggles in the glove box of your car.

Keep a pair of swim goggles in the drawer of your desk at work; not to use but to remind you of the concept of balance.

Keep every race number from every event you ever enter, writing down the date and a few notes on the back. The T-shirts, like the pain and soreness, will fade with time. But the old numbers, stuffed away in some long forgotten file and recalled at some distant point in time, are keys to unlocking priceless memories.

When you have a bad race, and it will happen, keep it to yourself. Go ahead and bore your dog, your fish and your pet turtle with your tales of woe, but spare your friends. They don't care. They only want to see you come home safe knowing you have enjoyed yourself.

When you have a good race, which can now be defined as coming home safe and happy, be proud of it, share it once and only lightly. And then inquire as to your friends' result.

When riding in an area without bike lanes and cautious drivers, consider attaching a 3-foot antennae to the side of your bike with a #10 sheet metal screw taped to the tip. If a driver is to come dangerously close, placing your health and welfare in question, he or she may be reminded of their lapse of consideration by the presence of a new racing stripe along the side molding.

When a free massage is offered at the end of an event, always tip the volunteer with kindness, gratitude or a few bucks. Consider it a karmic transaction.

When things get especially tough in a race, call on a source that is especially good at pulling you through. Hint: It's not your spouse, your coach or your college psychology professor.

Support sponsors that support triathlon. Another karmic thing, even if it is rooted in capitalism.

When you dream of winning, stop not at a liquor store to buy a lottery ticket on the way to work, but take the time to write the dream down on a piece of paper and keep it in a safe place in your wallet. It has the same value as a winning ticket.

If it's cold outside bring the jacket you think you might not need on your bike ride.

Race entry fees aren't cheap. Create a little fund inside a cookie jar that sits on the kitchen counter. Every time you buy something on sale, make that lawn mower last another season or have Jim Rice at Sole Performance fix that broken heel on your favorite pair of pumps, instead of buying a new pair, toss a pocketful of loose change into that jar. Pretty soon you'll be racing for 'free' and feeling better about yourself in the process.

Knowledge can be found in a book; wisdom's found on a street corner. But the cornerstone of both is built upon experience. Race often and with purpose.

Leg cramps always suck. If you find a sure cure, please tell me.

Swim, Bike Run...It's So Much Fun!

Found this little ditty at Beginner Triathlete...the new Official Song of Triathletes everywhere? I'm not sure, but it is kind of catchy. Enjoy...

If You Blinked, You Probably Missed....

...Justin Gatlin setting the new mark for the Fastest Human Being on the Planet. 9.76 was all it took to blaze through 100 meters. You can watch the video at the link above, too.

A couple of observations. First, he was a little slow getting out of the blocks. Now, I'm not criticizing a 9.76 100, I just wonder what would happen if he had "hops outta the blocks". Second, the video took longer to load than it took Gatlin to to run it...funny.

A follow up--someone needs to go back to math class for a refresher on rounding. Still, now he should have a renewed focus: 2/100ths of a second to be the World's Fastest Human.

Monday Morning Funny...

A Japanese company and an American company decided to have a canoe race on the Missouri River. Both teams practiced long and hard to reach their peak performance before the race.

On the big day, the Japanese won by a mile. The Americans, very discouraged and depressed, decided to investigate the reason for the crushing defeat.

A team made up of senior management was formed to investigate and recommend appropriate action. Their conclusion was the Japanese had eight people rowing and one person steering, while the American team had eight people steering and one person rowing.

So American management hired a consulting company and paid them a large amount of money for a second opinion. They advised that too many people were steering the boat, while not enough people were rowing.

To prevent another loss to the Japanese, the rowing team's management structure was totally reorganized to four steering supervisors, three area steering superintendents and one assistant superintendent steering manager.

They also implemented a new performance system that would give the one person rowing the boat greater incentive to work harder. It was called the "Rowing Team Quality First Program", with meetings, dinners and free pens for the rower.

There was discussion of getting new paddles, canoes and other equipment, extra vacation days for practices and bonuses.

The next year the Japanese won by two miles. Humiliated, the American management laid off the rower for poor performance, halted development of a new canoe, sold the paddles and canceled all investments for new equipment.

The money saved was distributed to the Senior Executives as bonuses, and the next year's racing team was outsourced to India.

Isaiah 40:31....

The last two days have been road work...sort of. I was going to go out on Thursday, but 5 minutes before I was going to depart, it started pouring down rain. Funny thing: I was still thinking about it...until the lightning came. My treadmill is out of commission, so I was in a bit of a quandary, when my neighbor Bob asked if I wanted to come over and run on his. Sah-weet. I put in a half hour of steady-state and worked up a bit of a lather. Bob came downstairs and lifted weights while I ran.

Yesterday it wasn't raining. My wife called me and asked if I wanted to go out and have dinner at a popular Japanese restaurant near our home. Immediately go to calculating in my head and wrinkling my brow (can I eat that much...I need to run...Sunday is rest day...what if I switch...)...."Ummmm, yeah! Let's go."

So, instead of ordering a hibachi chicken and shrimp (ooooohhhh...that's good stuff!) I went with a sushi platter that was lighter and had some high gi rice, which, by my prediction would be crashing into my system with some high GI carbs in time for a run tonight. Weird things happen when you're focused like this.

People ask questions like, "Do you want a glass of wine, or a beer." And you say weird things like, "No thanks." My friend John says I have the bug, and I suppose he's right. Anything that makes you think wearing a Speedo is a good idea has to have some addictive qualities to it...

The other thing I find is that people have different responses. "I could never do that." "Interesting." "What is wrong with you?" My favorite is, "I want to do that!"

What happens when...

....you cheat to win, and lose anyway. According to this story, that's what happened to Ricardo Mayorga, who tested positive for Furosemide, a diuretic that masks the presence of Vitamin S. Mayorga got a severe beat down from Oscar De La Hoya on Saturday, falling in a TKO in 6, then had to face allegations of cheating today. That's a pretty rough week in anybody's life, but when you give yourself an edge and still lose...in boxing? Ouch.

Ironically, it's not the first time de la Hoya has opened a can on a cheater. From the Wikipedia:

On September 14, 2002, Oscar fought his nemesis "Ferocious" Fernando Vargas. After fiercely competitive early rounds, Oscar seized control of the latter half of the fight. In round 11, Oscar De la Hoya dropped Fernando Vargas with a left hook. Fernando Vargas got up at the count of nine, but De la Hoya finished him with a barrage of punches forcing the referee to stop the fight at 1:48 of round 11(TKO 11). It was later revealed that Fernando Vargas had tested positive for steroids in his post-fight drug test.

Hurricane Floyd Passes...

Former Heavyweight Champion of the World Floyd Patterson passed away yesterday. For those that don't know, he was an Olympic Gold Medalist in '52, became the youngest HWCoftheW in '56, at the age of twenty-one, and became the first to regain that title after losing it.

A story, recounted at Sports Illustrated, I had heard:

He fought Ali in 1965, lasting until the 12th round despite taking a beating from the champion, who was angry because Patterson called him by his given name, Cassius Clay.

During the fight, Ali toyed with Patterson, peppering him with jabs and right hands, all the time asking, "What's my name?"

Former Ali business manager Gene Kilroy said the two reconciled in the early 1970s when Patterson came up to Ali while he was eating and said, "Hello, Muhammad Ali." They embraced and remained friendly after that.

I remember him as being a little guy, in the ring against giants...Ali...Sonny Liston...he was the guy you hear about who is all heart, and doesn't know how to stay down. This is the quote that reminds me most of Floyd Patterson:

"They said I was the fighter who got knocked down the most, but I also got up the most," Patterson once said.

Let the Games Begin...

I signed up for my second triathlon...the goal: To top last year's performance. I'd like to finish in less than 1:30...only in Triathlon can they call a race that lasts one to two hours a "sprint"...sickos. And I'm going to be one of them. Again.

Raleigh Time

Random thoughts on my club ride last night.

Starting at the B Level: Last year I worked my way up to B rides (16-18+ mph). Even with a layoff in the winter, I was able to start there this year. And, I am pulling at the front more than most, and find myself with strength at the end. Sweet.

Attacking: Some guys like to jump out and attack, just for fun. I'm getting better at anticipating when that will come and how it will happen, so I can get myself in positon to go with them. It also means I can throw in a random one of my own, like on the third of four rolling hills when everyone was wiped last night. I came from the back and just blew by everyone while they were trying to hump it up the hill...my best attack ever.

Finishing: No matter how strong you are, there is always someone faster and stronger in the group. I was rolling at the end of the ride, and I thought I was free and clear to finish. This guy just comes up flying past me like I was on a tricycle...humbling.

Water, water everywhere...drink water all day, everyday. I was not properly fluidated (just made a new word!). By the end of the ride, I was feeling it.

All-in-all, it was really good ride.

Building Castles at the Beach

My friend Russ sent me this link, which was really cool. It brought back great memories of going "down the shore" to Long Beach Island with my family. My brother and I would build sand castles at low tide, then wait for the tide to rise and wipe them away. In all the time I spent at the shore, though, I'm certain I never saw anything like this...

...or this...

A Little Perspective...

A young boy had just gotten his driver's permit and enquired of his father, if they could discuss his use of the car. His father said, "I'll make a deal with you. You bring your grades up from a C to a B average, study your Bible a little, get your hair cut and we'll talk about the car."

Well, the boy thought about that for a moment, settled for the offer, and they agreed on it. After about six weeks they went in to the study, where his father said, "Son, I've been real proud. You've brought your grades up, and I've observed that you have been studying your Bible, and participating a lot more in the Bible study groups. But, I'm real disappointed, since you haven't gotten your hair cut."

The young man paused a moment, and then said, "You know, Dad, I've been thinking about that, and I've noticed in my studies of the Bible that Samson had long hair, John the Baptist had long hair, Moses had long hair and there's even a strong argument that Jesus had long hair also."

To this his father replied, "Did you also notice they all walked everywhere they went?"

Five minute vacation to the mountains....

Another beautiful site, this one by SEAWALLRUNNER. The photography throughout is absolutely stunning. To wit:

...and also:

Things Are Not Always as They Seem

My friend Eric (who seems to be MIA of late) sent me this information a while back. It's a host of optical illusions, which I really enjoy. I had only seen three or four of these, so it was quite the revelation.

I really liked this one. There is a human face somewhere in the mass of beans. The weird thing is that, once you see it, it's pretty much ALL you see.

I used to teach a high school course on World Cultures, and one of my opening activities was trying to explain ethnocentrism. One of the ways I did this was through optical illusions. I tried to get them to understand that the way YOU see things is not necessarily the way other people see things, or even the way they really are. Among a host of others, I used the classic old woman/young girl picture and let them try to prove their side before explaining the picture, and that both sides were right.

...and for some reason...

I simply LOVE The Sartorialist. It's simple, elegant, and beautifully done, just like the people portrayed on its pages. Along with this picture...


....he wrote:

So I asked this guy if I could take his photo.

With a slightly confused look and a deep French accent this young gentleman offered me a cigarette.

I explained again that I thought his outfit looked great and that I would like to take his photo. This time he got it.

He looked at me, then looked at his own outfit and said "you like my outfit because we are dressed the same."

I hadn't noticed but he was right!

We both had on jeans, blue cardigan, white shirt, and old-school sneakers.

I only hope I can carry it off as well as he does when I'm his age - please, anyone that knows me don't write in and say I'm already his age!!

Even his writing is elegant. Well done, sir. Well done.

It's just a cool little place to go and look at some well-dressed individuals, which provides a sharp counterpoint to my recent excursions to this place. ***shudder***

Schoooooool's out for...eternity?

I believe God uses unlikely people in unlikely ways. Still, this blog entry caught me off guard. I mean, who would think that God could use this guy:

This passage really jumped out at me:

"We have to make a choice. And everybody, at some point in their lives, has to make that choice. When people say, 'How do you believe this? Why do you believe this?' I just say nothing else speaks to my heart. This doesn't speak to my intellect, it doesn't speak to my logic -- it speaks right to my heart and right to my soul, deeper than anything I've ever thought of. And I totally believe it. That being said, I'm not a very good Christian. I mean, none of us are ever 'good' Christians. That's not the point. When you're a Christian, it doesn't mean you're going to be good; it means you've got a harder road to pull."

If you're going to take a 5 minute vacation...

...you could certainly do worse than this site. I love the shots of Zion.



That having been said, her artwork leaves more than just a little to be desired. To wit:

I like the Moon...

Every once in a while, I just need to visit the Spong Monkeys(go here and click on We Like the Moon on the left side) to remember not to get too serious about things. Today was one of those days. Tomorrow might be, too....

On those days when I need a second reminder, I use this as my back up plan, which works, quite frankly, almost as well...

The World According to PEEP

If you're like me, an integral part of the Easter experience, along with That multi-colored basket straw, new clothes for church and shoes that squeaked, was PEEPS!

For those of you interested, here is a Peeps Research Page, including information on their response to cold (Liquid Nitrogen and a hammer V. Peep!) and heat, among others.

Also, THIS SITE offers Peep Invaders and Peep-steroids, combining one of the classic food groups of my youth with two of the greatest games ever invented.

The Pennsylvania Cable Network (PCN) does factory tours. You can go HERE to see the tour of the Peep Factory.

If you just can't get enough, check out:
Peep Haikus...
Alien Abduction of Peeps...
Traveling Peeps...
Voodoo Peep...
And finally a comprehensive Peep Resource Page

Get on your bikes and ride...

I found THIS while taking a five minute vacation (my name for those brief periods between tasks when you need to clear your mind before moving on to the next task). Hope you enjoy it as much as I did...

More perspective...

...on the recent discovery of a Judas document from my friend George to be found IN THIS ARTICLE...

The Gospel according to WHOM????

Early indications are that THIS is the Gospel according to Judas. One of the more amazing claims?

Craig Evans, a professor at Acadia Divinity College in Nova Scotia, Canada, said New Testament explanations for Judas' betrayal range from money to the influence of Satan.

"Perhaps more now can be said," he commented. The document "implies that Judas only did what Jesus wanted him to do."

Apparently, this Gospel was mentioned by Bishop Irenaeus of Lyon about 180 AD, who stated the manuscript was a heretical document because it differed so drastically from mainstream Christianity. Until now, people believed the document was lost.

Elaine Pagels, a professor of religion at Princeton University, said, "The people who loved, circulated and wrote down these gospels did not think they were heretics."

In the understatement of the year...

Added Rev. Donald Senior, president of the Catholic Theological Union of Chicago: "Let a vigorous debate on the significance of this fascinating ancient text begin."

I'm certain "vigorous debate" doesn't even begin to explain what';s about to happen...

A second account of the story can be FOUND HERE.

Fish or Cut Balls...

Each of us bites off more than we can chew at some point in our lives. At those times, I'm thankful for those people who can exercise quick thinking and cut through things quickly. When I saw this fella, I knew exactly how he felt.



My friend Mary sent me this picture, as well as the person cutting through to save his life. She added the quote: "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." Thanks for a great reminder...

Conversion: The Penalty Phase

I've been watching THIS STORY for two days now. Abdul Rahman has converted from Islam to Christianity. The problem for him is that he lives in Afghanistan...where the penalty for apostasy is death.

Some things that made me think, in reading the article. First, they are trying to find a way to get him "off the hook" and be spared.

One state prosecutor, Sarinwal Zamari, said: "We think he could be mad. He is not a normal person. He doesn't talk like a normal person.

No, he probably doesn't talk like a "sane" person. I think that's part of it. Called by Him, we are asked to be different. In the world, but differentiated from it as not part of the world. It begins with our speech.

Mr Rahman reportedly lived in Germany for nine years before returning to his war-scarred homeland. Mr Rahman was arrested just over two weeks ago when his parents told police about his conversion.

His parents told the police? I don't even know where to go with this one.

He told a judge last week he became a Christian while working for an aid group helping Afghan refugees in Pakistan.

Again, I see that call to serve. How important it is, and how others will come to know Jesus: by our love.

So, Abdul is facing the death penalty for his conversion. What's the worst thing I face? What's the worst thing you face. And how far would you go?

When you pray...

...say a word for the people of Belarus. They have begun a revolution, of sorts, and there is no telling how or when it will end. After fixed elections (old-school Soviet style) the people have begun taking to the streets.

It is a frigid, risky vigil, given the Belarussian weather and the government's history of reflexive brutality against those who dare to stand and call for better lives than Mr. Lukashenko's island of Soviet nostalgia and corruption has been able, or willing, to provide.

This story gives a good overview of the situation. Many of you know about the people I met during my stay there. You can read more about my trip HERE.

I wish I had this kind of time...

I mean really, where DO people find the time to run sites like THIS ONE?

Fishona Non Grata

Sorry...have been up to my eyeballs, if anyone is still out there. More to follow this week, as I hope things will be lightening up a bit.