...time for a change. Blogger has some cool features that let you toy with the look of your blog, so I thought I'd "explore the space" a little. Indulge me, if you will...
Friday, April 27, 2007
Saw it was...
...time for a change. Blogger has some cool features that let you toy with the look of your blog, so I thought I'd "explore the space" a little. Indulge me, if you will...
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Local Bike Shop
If you cycle, and you have a local bike shop that you love, then stories like this are well known to you. I dropped my bike today at World Cup Ski and Cycle for a tuneup (front derailleur isn't as crisp as i want it and overshifts in the big gear), new bar tape, a computer wiring and a new seatpost (set back farther because I have a longer femur and it postions me in the saddle better). In dropping the bike off, I said to the guy that I had a triathlon coming up, so if he could possibly get it done by Saturday, that would be great. He replied that they were backed up, and it might take as long as until Sunday or Monday.
I just got a call and the bike is going to be ready to go at 8.15. The shop closes at 8.00. They jumped me into the line, and are going to work a little later to get me done and back on the bike. now THAT is service, and it's why i shop there, and send people who are looking to buy bikes there.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Swim Night...
I went over to the local middle school for a swim on community night. It was most definitely community pool night. There were loud, screaming kids as far as the eye could see/ear could hear. I could not believe how LOUD it was
They had one lane of the pool set aside for lap swimmers. When I got there, there was one other woman in the swim lane. As I walked over there, three kids from a local Boy Scout Troop hopped in. This, I was sure, was going to be "the suxxor." The kids kept swimming into me and the other woman, until I figured out a way to go around them. At first, I was pretty annoyed, but then I thought about how tough it was to keep focused; and how I hated getting bumped into while swimming, and how I had to keep my head up occasionally to look for other swimmers. It occurred to me that this was actually going to be a better practice for a triathlon than I had originally thought. I considered swimming on top of them or kicking them, just to make it thoroughly authentic, but decided against it.
It was good to get in the pool. I feel like I am not going to die, now. My goal for this triathlon has changed from surviving the swim to not embarrassing myself on the swim. Noble, I know.
They had one lane of the pool set aside for lap swimmers. When I got there, there was one other woman in the swim lane. As I walked over there, three kids from a local Boy Scout Troop hopped in. This, I was sure, was going to be "the suxxor." The kids kept swimming into me and the other woman, until I figured out a way to go around them. At first, I was pretty annoyed, but then I thought about how tough it was to keep focused; and how I hated getting bumped into while swimming, and how I had to keep my head up occasionally to look for other swimmers. It occurred to me that this was actually going to be a better practice for a triathlon than I had originally thought. I considered swimming on top of them or kicking them, just to make it thoroughly authentic, but decided against it.
It was good to get in the pool. I feel like I am not going to die, now. My goal for this triathlon has changed from surviving the swim to not embarrassing myself on the swim. Noble, I know.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Notes from the Road
I FINALLY got to spend some time in the saddle, riding my bike in warm weather and sunshine. I went out for an hour and a half on Saturday and another hour and ten today. All in all, I covered a little over 44 miles with 1700 feet of climbing. Fol owing, some observations:
It might be tempting when you come up to a station wagon and there is a kid in the back to wave or make a goofy face. But then you realize his parents are listening to Slayer...backwards...and you think better of it.
If you're a nurses with a shock of bright red curly hair, you should not wear polka dotted tunics...unless you work for Ringling Brothers.
I can deal with a headwind. But, when you deal with a headwind for half a ride, it is patently unfair for said wind to reverse direction at about the same time you do. It just is.
If the Spanish Inquisition had wanted to be successful, they would have given the Infidels bicycles and sent them out to attack hills. Think about it: you think it's pleasure, but it quickly turns to pain, you start talking to God, and if the hill is big enough, eventually you see Him.
In all honesty, I spent some good time with Him on these rides. On god rides, there comes a point where everything is clicking and your mind is free. I often turn my mind in those moments to God.
I saw a guy riding a Victory today. I caught up with him at the light (I'm not sure he was that happy about it) and told him I liked his bike. We chit-chatted for a bit and then he said he didn't think his bike was heavy enough to trip the light sensor. I showed him where to stop his light, on the sensors, and explained that they are magnetic. I don't think he got it. I wished him well and we went our separate ways.
I saw a guy with a Got the Nerve? t-shirt and told him I was going again this year. He said he hoped to seem me there.
The Susquehanna River is really quite beautiful. It's a little high and muddy right now, but it's a nice place to ride.
It's a bad idea to forget a water bottle. ALWAYS.
I still love my Cannondale!
It might be tempting when you come up to a station wagon and there is a kid in the back to wave or make a goofy face. But then you realize his parents are listening to Slayer...backwards...and you think better of it.
If you're a nurses with a shock of bright red curly hair, you should not wear polka dotted tunics...unless you work for Ringling Brothers.
I can deal with a headwind. But, when you deal with a headwind for half a ride, it is patently unfair for said wind to reverse direction at about the same time you do. It just is.
If the Spanish Inquisition had wanted to be successful, they would have given the Infidels bicycles and sent them out to attack hills. Think about it: you think it's pleasure, but it quickly turns to pain, you start talking to God, and if the hill is big enough, eventually you see Him.
In all honesty, I spent some good time with Him on these rides. On god rides, there comes a point where everything is clicking and your mind is free. I often turn my mind in those moments to God.
I saw a guy riding a Victory today. I caught up with him at the light (I'm not sure he was that happy about it) and told him I liked his bike. We chit-chatted for a bit and then he said he didn't think his bike was heavy enough to trip the light sensor. I showed him where to stop his light, on the sensors, and explained that they are magnetic. I don't think he got it. I wished him well and we went our separate ways.
I saw a guy with a Got the Nerve? t-shirt and told him I was going again this year. He said he hoped to seem me there.
The Susquehanna River is really quite beautiful. It's a little high and muddy right now, but it's a nice place to ride.
It's a bad idea to forget a water bottle. ALWAYS.
I still love my Cannondale!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
I am sick and tired...
...of riding on a trainer...
...of being cooped up inside...
...of running in near-freezing temperatures in APRIL...
...of cycling in 35 mph winds.
Today I declared war on Mother nature, grabbed my hybrid and headed out. It started to sleet a little, along with the aforementioned 35+ mph winds. I decided to take a detour and LENGTHEN the ride. It ended up being a little over 6 miles, paltry by my usual standards, but much longer than I anticipated when i went out. I'm done with it!
...of being cooped up inside...
...of running in near-freezing temperatures in APRIL...
...of cycling in 35 mph winds.
Today I declared war on Mother nature, grabbed my hybrid and headed out. It started to sleet a little, along with the aforementioned 35+ mph winds. I decided to take a detour and LENGTHEN the ride. It ended up being a little over 6 miles, paltry by my usual standards, but much longer than I anticipated when i went out. I'm done with it!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Trainer Time...
I have decided there is very little that is as nind numbing in the world as time spent on a bicycle trainer. That having been said, it was an hour and fifteen minutes of saddle time that I would not have had yesterday, and at this point, in my shape, everything helps.
And, with a Nor'easter on its way in, the trainer may be an even bigger part of this week. ****sigh****
Friday, April 13, 2007
Group Ride
I went for a group ride on Tuesday, my first long ride on the new bike. It occurred to me how out of shape I am as I rode with a group of three B riders. The last time I rode with a B group, I actually led sections of the ride, pulling at the front for others. Not today. Not only was I barely able to keep up with them, but I was constantly getting shelled out the back on the hills. They were a good bunch of guys and took it easy on the downhills, allowing me to catch up, and even waited for me on a couple of occasions. Fortunately, I wasn't the only one who struggled that day. There was another guy who had a bit of a harder time too...but he is 66. Still, being on a bicycle is a good time to think about things.
STEVE
Last year, the Harrisburg Bicycle Club lost a good guy when Steve passed away from a heart attack, coming back from a ride to Cape May. When I first made the jump up to riding with the B level riders, Steve was the first person to approach me. He made me feel comfortable about making the jump and riding with them, which I will always remember and appreciate. I rode with Steve a lot in the last two years. He was always quick witted, funny, self-deprecating in the way that cyclists often are. Steve had the most unorthodox pedaling motion, hammering the poor things like Jan Ullrich in a fit of anger, pounding the pedals, the pavement into submission.
The four of us spent some time on the ride talking about Steve, reminiscing. I didn't know him well, didn't know him at all outside of cycling circles. But, what I did know was that he loved to ride, was always quick to help someone out, and never had anything bad to say about anyone. He always seemed to have a smile, enjoyed a cold beer at the end of a hard ride, and really loved to take his turn at the front and hammer all of us. I'll miss him.
Lefty
It was also my first long ride since losing "Lefty" to testicular cancer last August. At one point in my riding career, I wanted to be like Lance, but this is not exactly what I had in mind. Toward the end of the ride it was hard to get comfortable on the saddle. It's strange to think about a "lost boy" on my ride, but I did. I can still ride; I am blessed.
Accident
And, to hit the trifecta, it was also the first long ride since being run over by a truck last September. Again, the long layoff took my fitness on the bike down to zero. More than that, I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder. One of the things that has happened since the accident is that I relive it. Not a lot, but I do. I see it all in my head, and it's hard to chase away. I've long since stopped trying, and now I just try to roll with it, going back through it like a moviegoer, except that at the crucial parts, I am in the movie. Sometimes it's a total reenactment, which isn't that bad. Other times it ends differently. Worse.
I liked being back out there. Having three other riders gave me some cushion, as people give a wide berth to packs of cyclists. Still, I spent a lot of time thinking about the accident. I watched cars and trucks coming up behind me, and I watched them pass me. I made sure they saw us, moved over a bit as they did so.
Conclusion
So, all in all, it was a bittersweet ride. I loved being out there, on my bike, riding again. It was a good way to say goodbye to Steve, to Lefty, and to hopefully begin to exorcise some monsters. I can't wait to get out again.
STEVE
Last year, the Harrisburg Bicycle Club lost a good guy when Steve passed away from a heart attack, coming back from a ride to Cape May. When I first made the jump up to riding with the B level riders, Steve was the first person to approach me. He made me feel comfortable about making the jump and riding with them, which I will always remember and appreciate. I rode with Steve a lot in the last two years. He was always quick witted, funny, self-deprecating in the way that cyclists often are. Steve had the most unorthodox pedaling motion, hammering the poor things like Jan Ullrich in a fit of anger, pounding the pedals, the pavement into submission.
The four of us spent some time on the ride talking about Steve, reminiscing. I didn't know him well, didn't know him at all outside of cycling circles. But, what I did know was that he loved to ride, was always quick to help someone out, and never had anything bad to say about anyone. He always seemed to have a smile, enjoyed a cold beer at the end of a hard ride, and really loved to take his turn at the front and hammer all of us. I'll miss him.
Lefty
It was also my first long ride since losing "Lefty" to testicular cancer last August. At one point in my riding career, I wanted to be like Lance, but this is not exactly what I had in mind. Toward the end of the ride it was hard to get comfortable on the saddle. It's strange to think about a "lost boy" on my ride, but I did. I can still ride; I am blessed.
Accident
And, to hit the trifecta, it was also the first long ride since being run over by a truck last September. Again, the long layoff took my fitness on the bike down to zero. More than that, I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder. One of the things that has happened since the accident is that I relive it. Not a lot, but I do. I see it all in my head, and it's hard to chase away. I've long since stopped trying, and now I just try to roll with it, going back through it like a moviegoer, except that at the crucial parts, I am in the movie. Sometimes it's a total reenactment, which isn't that bad. Other times it ends differently. Worse.
I liked being back out there. Having three other riders gave me some cushion, as people give a wide berth to packs of cyclists. Still, I spent a lot of time thinking about the accident. I watched cars and trucks coming up behind me, and I watched them pass me. I made sure they saw us, moved over a bit as they did so.
Conclusion
So, all in all, it was a bittersweet ride. I loved being out there, on my bike, riding again. It was a good way to say goodbye to Steve, to Lefty, and to hopefully begin to exorcise some monsters. I can't wait to get out again.
Monday, April 09, 2007
New Kicks
I haven't bought new running shoes in ages (read as 4+ years…yikes!). After my recent groin injury, it seemed like a logical first step. The logical second step will be increasing mobility and range of motion.
Anyway, I went to the local running store because it has been so long since I’ve bought shoes. The guy looked at my shoes then asked, “So, what are you running in now.”
“Ummmm…these,” I replied, indicating my Adidas runners from the 1940s. I could see he wanted to say, “No. really.” But he stopped himself.
“You know you should replace your shoes every 400-500 miles?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Well, let’s get those off and we’ll see what’s going on. After some discussion and observation, we determined that I was a little flat footed. This was news to me, because tradionally I have had a medium to high arch. I guess with age my arch has fallen. This was in keeping with what I believed. The higher arch-support on my shoes, coupled with my flatter arch was rolling my foot outward too far. I tried on five or six different shoes. The Aasics had a larger heel box that kept slipping (I was surprised by this), the Adidas had a small toe box (not good) and the Nikes were too narrow overall. I narrowed it down to the Brooks and the Reeboks, took both out for spins around the shopping center (at one point, one on each foot) and ended up choosing the Brooks GTS.
It’s a lot lighter than my old shoe, and the cushioning, while not as thick as the Adidas, was every bit as comfortable. Furthermore, I felt like my foot was striking more on the flat of the foot than the heel, and rebounding with a cleaner, softer roll of the foot.
Later that evening I went out and went for what I thought was a light run. My groin was feeling a little better, and I thought a gentle run might help stretch things out in a good way. Sure enough, things started to loosen up, and I felt the mobility returning to my hip. The tightness dissipated quickly as I continued forward. The hills were harder as it’s been a while since I hit them, but cruising on the flats seemed much easier. I came around the last turn for home and stretched out a little. No problems.
When I hit my watch at the end of the run, I could not believe what I saw. I had run my neighborhood route, covering 2.27 miles, in less than 20 minutes. I had to look twice. That's an 8.8 pace!!! That’s one of the fastest times I have posted on that route.
My hope was that I would feel that good in the morning. I finished with active stretching and a hot tub. I did feel better the next day.
Anyway, I went to the local running store because it has been so long since I’ve bought shoes. The guy looked at my shoes then asked, “So, what are you running in now.”
“Ummmm…these,” I replied, indicating my Adidas runners from the 1940s. I could see he wanted to say, “No. really.” But he stopped himself.
“You know you should replace your shoes every 400-500 miles?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Well, let’s get those off and we’ll see what’s going on. After some discussion and observation, we determined that I was a little flat footed. This was news to me, because tradionally I have had a medium to high arch. I guess with age my arch has fallen. This was in keeping with what I believed. The higher arch-support on my shoes, coupled with my flatter arch was rolling my foot outward too far. I tried on five or six different shoes. The Aasics had a larger heel box that kept slipping (I was surprised by this), the Adidas had a small toe box (not good) and the Nikes were too narrow overall. I narrowed it down to the Brooks and the Reeboks, took both out for spins around the shopping center (at one point, one on each foot) and ended up choosing the Brooks GTS.
It’s a lot lighter than my old shoe, and the cushioning, while not as thick as the Adidas, was every bit as comfortable. Furthermore, I felt like my foot was striking more on the flat of the foot than the heel, and rebounding with a cleaner, softer roll of the foot.
Later that evening I went out and went for what I thought was a light run. My groin was feeling a little better, and I thought a gentle run might help stretch things out in a good way. Sure enough, things started to loosen up, and I felt the mobility returning to my hip. The tightness dissipated quickly as I continued forward. The hills were harder as it’s been a while since I hit them, but cruising on the flats seemed much easier. I came around the last turn for home and stretched out a little. No problems.
When I hit my watch at the end of the run, I could not believe what I saw. I had run my neighborhood route, covering 2.27 miles, in less than 20 minutes. I had to look twice. That's an 8.8 pace!!! That’s one of the fastest times I have posted on that route.
My hope was that I would feel that good in the morning. I finished with active stretching and a hot tub. I did feel better the next day.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Advertising
Propel is doing some funny ads right now. I'm not a fan of the product (just me) but these are really cool. CHECK THEM OUT HERE. I like the Stress Monster best, but maybe it's just because I love Pressure from Queen and David Bowie.
This one makes me smile...
And this one still makes me laugh...
This one makes me smile...
And this one still makes me laugh...
Happy Easter!
One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?"
Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
Matthew 22:35-40
Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
Matthew 22:35-40
Friday, April 06, 2007
LiftSTRONG!
My friend Alwyn Cosgrove is one of the top fitness minds in the country, having written for men's Health and Men's Fitness magazine, as well as contributing to books, touring on the lecture circuit, coaching and running his own gym. In short, the man has probably forgotten more about fitness than you and I will ever learn...if he forgets anything he has learned.
On top of that, Alwyn has beaten cancer...twice! Because the man never rests on his laurels (or elsewhere, it seems) he brought to together the top names in the fitness, sports, and health professions to create an amazing resource of health, fitness, and training information. If you are into health, lifting, nutrition, fitness, or just about anything that touches these fields (or you want to be), this is a must-have resource. At over 800 pages, it will be an essential component to anyone's fitness and training library.
ALL of the proceeds from the LiftSTRONG project will go to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. In typical Alwyn fashion, he is picking up the tab for all of the production costs.
For more information, including a list of the authors and to order your copy go to LiftSTRONG.
Maiden Voyage
It was a beautiful spring evening, the kind that makes you glad you're alive, and that you own a bicycle. I snapped my helmet on(!!!) and clipped into the pedals. I took a quick spin up to talk to my daughter, who was playing with her friends on the swingset up the road. Then I turned around, hit my watch, and started pedaling.
It amazes me how well this bike responds. The transfer of power from thought to legs to pedals to bicyle is near-instantaneous. I rode down to the bottom of the street and hung a right turn, up the hill my daughter had successfully climbed several days earlier for the very first time. I switched into a lower gear and just rose up the hill. I was huffing a little at the top, (and I know this is a cliche') but this bike climbs like a...
I made the left, then the two rights that take me down by the local
supermarket (Quality. Selection. Savings. Every Day.). This is a flat stretch and the road just unwound in front of me. Cars passed me, giving me a wide berth; I have to admit I was pretty nervous, being out there for the first time since the hit and run. I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder. There are some pretty bumpy stretches through there, but the bike just glided over them.
I came upon some road debris as I went down past the Highmark building; the Cannondale went everywhere I wanted it to go. As I hit the rolling hills, followed by a long climb to Holy Spirit Hospital (where I said a silent thanks to the doctors, nurses and king's horses and king's men who put me back together again) the bike just kept rising. Again, I realized how out of cycling shape I am, but the bike was way more than my equal. I was almost ashamed at how much I was holding it back.
I made the turn and went down some back roads into Lemoyne, then back into Camp Hill, made the loop on 21st Street, back past the hospital and headed for home. This gave me the opportunity to test the descending capabilities down some of these hills. It was like gliding on a razor blade. Everywhere I wanted to go, the bike just went. It's much "twitchier" than my old bike though not in a bad way. Perhaps "responsive" would be a better way to describe it. My turns were so much tighter on the C-dale.
I cruised into the driveway as the sun was dipping below the horizon. It was a twelve mile ride, over some fairly hilly terrain, that I (in spite of my out of cycling-shape self) managed to cover in 46 minutes. I was a little more than surprised when I calculated out a 15.7 mph average. It's not going to win me any races, but for where I was, I was more than just a little pleased.
I REALLY liked my old bike: Fievel was a steel Raleigh Professional with Shimano Ultegra compnents and he was smooth and sure as the day is long. But the Cannondale (as yet unnamed) is more than his equal in every category except components. The Raleigh was Ultegra, this is 105: the shifting isn't quite as crisp and exacting in the C-dale. The Cannondale climbs amazingly well with no shaking, torsion or waste of movement/power. It descends just as well, equally comfortable with wide sweeping arcs or quick adjustments to avoid junk on the road. The bike is stiff where you want it, with absolutely nothing lost in the translation of power to the pedals. This was especially true when I got up out of the saddle to make a light. In the saddle, the carbon fiber took over, evening out the road and giving me just enough feedback to let me know what was going on in the road (this is where the Look 555 lost me), but not so much that I felt like I had to pull over and readjust the fillings in my teeth (the Orbea Onix I tested made me feel like that).
So, all of that to say I LOVE MY CANNONDALE! Now, if I could shake this nagging groin injury, I would be really stoked to be back up in the saddle again....cold weather and all.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Tonight...WE RIDE!!!
I am going to pick up my bicycle today! I am soooo excited. I went over to World Cup Ski and Cycle (terrible website, excellent service!!!) on Tuesday and test road pretty much every bike in the shop. I narrowed it down to an Orbea Onix, which I decided was too stiff, despite the all carbon frame. The tighter weave made the feedback from the road a little harsh on my 40 year-old bones.
I also rode a beautiful Look 555, but it felt dead, the polar opposite of the Orbea. I was getting no feedback from the road at all. It felt sluggish in the turns and didn't transfer the power from the pedal to the bike very well. This really surprised me, as going in to the test rides, this was the frame I was looking forward to riding the most.
The Scott CR-1 also scored high. It was plush but responsive and had a smooth, easy feel about it. The styling on it is really sharp. I was sure this was the bike for me. There was a bike I rode early in the trials that i really liked, and I decided it would be good for a biko-a-biko test ride tournament. I took the Scott out one more time and liked it a lot...until I sat on the other bike.
I knew just noodling out of the parking lot this was going to be the winner. I hit the road. It was giving me feedback like my old steel bike, but not harshly like the Orbea. It was plush, but it wasn't "dead" like the Look. And the responsiveness through turns and up hills was just too much to ignore. I had found my winner; I had found my bike...in less than one hour, I am going to pick it up.
I will introduce you to my bike this weekend...
I also rode a beautiful Look 555, but it felt dead, the polar opposite of the Orbea. I was getting no feedback from the road at all. It felt sluggish in the turns and didn't transfer the power from the pedal to the bike very well. This really surprised me, as going in to the test rides, this was the frame I was looking forward to riding the most.
The Scott CR-1 also scored high. It was plush but responsive and had a smooth, easy feel about it. The styling on it is really sharp. I was sure this was the bike for me. There was a bike I rode early in the trials that i really liked, and I decided it would be good for a biko-a-biko test ride tournament. I took the Scott out one more time and liked it a lot...until I sat on the other bike.
I knew just noodling out of the parking lot this was going to be the winner. I hit the road. It was giving me feedback like my old steel bike, but not harshly like the Orbea. It was plush, but it wasn't "dead" like the Look. And the responsiveness through turns and up hills was just too much to ignore. I had found my winner; I had found my bike...in less than one hour, I am going to pick it up.
I will introduce you to my bike this weekend...
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
The Running Man
I'm coming back to running more and more. I've been out twice this week already, in the early morning before dawn (especially now with the EDT shift), before the traffic and hustle-bustle of the world begins. I'm still not used to waking up at 5.30 like I did earlier this week. I'm less than used to rolling out of bed and getting ready to go for a run. But here's something I discovered. Once I get rolling, I forget why I wanted to stay in bed in the first place. Sure it's warm and cozy, but moving forward seems so much better than laying there, fretting about the coming day.
I've started reading Chi Running by Danny Dreyer. I haven't delved into it deeply, yet, but one of the things he advocates is "Body Sensing" or being more aware of your body, how it is moving and how you can alter your body, form etc. to improve your running and results. There is a constant flow of information to your brain about your body (more than it just screaming, "Why am I awake and why are trying to KILL ME???"). Your brain also has the ability to consciously and unconsciously send information back tot he body to improve what I am doing. I made a point of trying to be more in tune with my body and my surroundings this week and it really felt better.
On Tuesday, I felt I was going to loosen up well and run smoothly and I did. I was very fluid and felt strong going up hills. I noticed things more. My neighborhood has a smell to it of dryer sheets and fabric softener in the early morning. I thought it was my brain making fun of me, but it was definitely there. I noticed it again on Thursday's run. Speaking of Thursday's run, I woke up at about 6.15 and got going. I felt stiff and knew I was not going to set any speed records...so I didn't try. The other thing Dreyer talks about is "listening to your body" and letting the feedback you are receiving drive your running, as oposed to letting your ego drive. The ego in control, he says, leads to pain and injury. I'm inclined to agree with him.
I really like the Chi Running philosophy so far. I like being more in touch with my body. Before I started reading the book, the closest I came to "body sensing" was when nature called in the last quarter mile of a run. Fortunately, I am still running relatively short distances (5 miles and less) and didn't get caught out; I made it home without incident, but only barely. I mention this because I came across THIS STORY from Dave Milner, passed on by a friend, which has to be one of the more hysterical things I have read recently. It's not for the squeamish, but I split my sides reading it.
I've started reading Chi Running by Danny Dreyer. I haven't delved into it deeply, yet, but one of the things he advocates is "Body Sensing" or being more aware of your body, how it is moving and how you can alter your body, form etc. to improve your running and results. There is a constant flow of information to your brain about your body (more than it just screaming, "Why am I awake and why are trying to KILL ME???"). Your brain also has the ability to consciously and unconsciously send information back tot he body to improve what I am doing. I made a point of trying to be more in tune with my body and my surroundings this week and it really felt better.
On Tuesday, I felt I was going to loosen up well and run smoothly and I did. I was very fluid and felt strong going up hills. I noticed things more. My neighborhood has a smell to it of dryer sheets and fabric softener in the early morning. I thought it was my brain making fun of me, but it was definitely there. I noticed it again on Thursday's run. Speaking of Thursday's run, I woke up at about 6.15 and got going. I felt stiff and knew I was not going to set any speed records...so I didn't try. The other thing Dreyer talks about is "listening to your body" and letting the feedback you are receiving drive your running, as oposed to letting your ego drive. The ego in control, he says, leads to pain and injury. I'm inclined to agree with him.
I really like the Chi Running philosophy so far. I like being more in touch with my body. Before I started reading the book, the closest I came to "body sensing" was when nature called in the last quarter mile of a run. Fortunately, I am still running relatively short distances (5 miles and less) and didn't get caught out; I made it home without incident, but only barely. I mention this because I came across THIS STORY from Dave Milner, passed on by a friend, which has to be one of the more hysterical things I have read recently. It's not for the squeamish, but I split my sides reading it.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
St. Patrick's Lorica (Morning Prayer)
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.
I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me;
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a mulitude.
I summon today all these powers between me and evil,
Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.
Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that reward may come to me in abundance.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation
St. Patrick (ca. 377)
Thursday, March 15, 2007
This video...
...is just plain awesome! I love Christopher Walken, and Fat Boy Slim's Weapon of Choice is the Jam. Together, they're an unstoppable combination.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Warrior-Poet-Ironman
I've seen Jon Blais's story before, but I thought this was beautifully done. Enjoy...
Thoughts From the Road: Deadlifting
I've noted before, that as a salesperson on the road, I have moments where my mind wanders to some rather unusual places. This week I was coming back from visiting a client and I was sitting at a red light. The light turned green, but the cars from my left side kept coming through, with one car blocking the intersection in Secret Service style.
What struck me as the funeral procession rolled through the intersection and the shiny cars (people always clean their cars to go to a funeral) moved grimly past,was the enormity of the occupants of these cars. As a former larger guy (I used to roll at 220+ on a six-foot frame), I'm used to seeing larger people, and sometimes thinking, "It doesn't have to be like this. There's good help and good information out there."
My mind followed this thread. There are really large, out of shape people in this funeral, quite possibly going to bury their really large, possibly out of shape family member/friend. At some point, they had to get the body into the hearse, and from the hearse they will have to get it to the grave. How are they going to do it? If the corpse is extremely large, wouldn't they need to be MORE in shape just to lift said corpse. Or, they could use MORE PEOPLE, but that's a problem because they're so rotund they can't get more people around the coffin. I could not get my head around the conundrum. How does it work?
When I got home that night, I asked Mrs. Fish...she just shook her head, with the look of incredulity that asks the dual questions "How do you come up with this stuff?" and "Why are you asking ME this question?" at the same time. Guys. You know the look. Women. You know the feeling.
On my ride in the next day, I began thinking about this again. This was not a single, isolated incident. Surely these were not the only people to be faced with such a problem. As America gets fatter and ostensibly weaker, this is going to become more and more of a problem, not less and less of one. Already they are making oversized coffins (check out Goliath Coffins). But that only solves the problem of what to bury them in, not how to get them in the ground.
Then, I came upon a solution. Why not get the fitness community involved? Funeral directors could go to local gyms and create a Rent-A-Pallbearer system. The training would be simple and the work could be part of the lifter's routine...it's win-win. Furthermore, the bereaved could be doubly assured: First, their beloved would be treated with dignity and respect. He or she would be carried and laid to rest without the awkwardness of the grunt/scream when the lift begins (again, the training program for the lifters would emphasize a no grunting practice) or worse, the dropping of the casket and it's inhabitant before it reaches it's final resting place. Second, the Rent-A-Pallbearer system minimizes the even worse scenario of a person dying while lifting the corpse.
So there you have it. I told you my mind went to some pretty strange places while I am on the road.
What struck me as the funeral procession rolled through the intersection and the shiny cars (people always clean their cars to go to a funeral) moved grimly past,was the enormity of the occupants of these cars. As a former larger guy (I used to roll at 220+ on a six-foot frame), I'm used to seeing larger people, and sometimes thinking, "It doesn't have to be like this. There's good help and good information out there."
My mind followed this thread. There are really large, out of shape people in this funeral, quite possibly going to bury their really large, possibly out of shape family member/friend. At some point, they had to get the body into the hearse, and from the hearse they will have to get it to the grave. How are they going to do it? If the corpse is extremely large, wouldn't they need to be MORE in shape just to lift said corpse. Or, they could use MORE PEOPLE, but that's a problem because they're so rotund they can't get more people around the coffin. I could not get my head around the conundrum. How does it work?
When I got home that night, I asked Mrs. Fish...she just shook her head, with the look of incredulity that asks the dual questions "How do you come up with this stuff?" and "Why are you asking ME this question?" at the same time. Guys. You know the look. Women. You know the feeling.
On my ride in the next day, I began thinking about this again. This was not a single, isolated incident. Surely these were not the only people to be faced with such a problem. As America gets fatter and ostensibly weaker, this is going to become more and more of a problem, not less and less of one. Already they are making oversized coffins (check out Goliath Coffins). But that only solves the problem of what to bury them in, not how to get them in the ground.
Then, I came upon a solution. Why not get the fitness community involved? Funeral directors could go to local gyms and create a Rent-A-Pallbearer system. The training would be simple and the work could be part of the lifter's routine...it's win-win. Furthermore, the bereaved could be doubly assured: First, their beloved would be treated with dignity and respect. He or she would be carried and laid to rest without the awkwardness of the grunt/scream when the lift begins (again, the training program for the lifters would emphasize a no grunting practice) or worse, the dropping of the casket and it's inhabitant before it reaches it's final resting place. Second, the Rent-A-Pallbearer system minimizes the even worse scenario of a person dying while lifting the corpse.
So there you have it. I told you my mind went to some pretty strange places while I am on the road.
Mary...update
I went to see Mary at the hospital on Friday. She was doing really well, and is recovering from her heart attacks (2!). She is complaining of shortness of breath, but has been told that is normal at this stage. She expects to be released on Sunday, and is looking forward to getting away from the hospital.
I can't say I blame her. I hate hospitals for all the same reasons Mary does. Doctors always popping in to poke and prod you, pseudo-sterile environments where the only thing that really thrives are the germs, and food that is virtually guaranteed to keep you sick...or make you sicker.
Still, she's a tough bird and will come through this with shining colors. Also like me, she takes doctors seriously and follows rehabilitation instructions to the letter. In recovery, I believe this and one's outlook (Mary is a VERY positive person) makes all the difference between getting better quickly versus slowly or not at all.
A huge thanks to all of you who have kept Mary in your thoughts, and in your prayers.
I can't say I blame her. I hate hospitals for all the same reasons Mary does. Doctors always popping in to poke and prod you, pseudo-sterile environments where the only thing that really thrives are the germs, and food that is virtually guaranteed to keep you sick...or make you sicker.
Still, she's a tough bird and will come through this with shining colors. Also like me, she takes doctors seriously and follows rehabilitation instructions to the letter. In recovery, I believe this and one's outlook (Mary is a VERY positive person) makes all the difference between getting better quickly versus slowly or not at all.
A huge thanks to all of you who have kept Mary in your thoughts, and in your prayers.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Little Fish
I was talking to my daughter as we were driving down the road the other day. It was one of those late winter days, where you could almost feel the very edges of the beginning of spring...just...almost...there.
I said to her, "Spring is just around the corner."
Without missing a beat she yelled, "TURN! TURN!"
I said to her, "Spring is just around the corner."
Without missing a beat she yelled, "TURN! TURN!"
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Update on Me
I got the official notice from the doctors: yours truly is cancer free. I passed the first six-month blood work, cancer markers and CT scan with flying colors. Nine years and six months to go (or 4 years and 6 months, depending on which source you adhere to). Either way, I'm on my way.
Update on Mary
Mary is going to be fine, but had TWO heart attacks on Sunday. They had to put two stents in because the first one didn't do enough for her. She was taken off the ventilator yesterday late morning, and is breathing normally. They'll evaluate her condition today and hopefully move her into a lower level of care unit today or tomorrow. She will then be able to have visitors. Apparently, it was touch and go for a while on Sunday, but fortunately all is well.
Thank you for your thoguhts and prayers for my friend. It means a great deal.
Thank you for your thoguhts and prayers for my friend. It means a great deal.
Monday, March 05, 2007
MARY...
Everyone has (or should have) one person at work the helps them hold it all together, makes sure their back is covered, that they're in the loop when they need to be, helps them keep their head when a crisis comes up and reminds them to take a personal day before it disappears.
In my 7+ years at my current job, that person has been Mary. Last night, Mary had a heart attack. We don't know much yet, but she is in the local ICU and has 3(?) stints in, designed to open the flow of blood to and from the heart. Her husband, John, called in this morning to let us know she is resting in the ICU. He is on his way back to see her.
I would appreciate it greatly if you would take just a moment or two and ask God to give Mary, John, and her family the strength and courage they will need to get through this ordeal. Your thoughts and prayers for my friend are greatly appreciated.
In my 7+ years at my current job, that person has been Mary. Last night, Mary had a heart attack. We don't know much yet, but she is in the local ICU and has 3(?) stints in, designed to open the flow of blood to and from the heart. Her husband, John, called in this morning to let us know she is resting in the ICU. He is on his way back to see her.
I would appreciate it greatly if you would take just a moment or two and ask God to give Mary, John, and her family the strength and courage they will need to get through this ordeal. Your thoughts and prayers for my friend are greatly appreciated.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
One More Barium, and Then I'll Stop
It's funny, because the more I share about it (it really is funny, NOW) the more amusing things I learn. They actually flavor it with lemonade or berry flavor. I didn't get either of these, so I was feeling pretty bad, until I found someone who didn't get hers chilled. I CANNOT IMAGINE HOW UNFAIR THAT IS! I am thinking her doctor just didn't like her very much--what other expalnation is there?
Apparently, I am very fortunate to have been drinking mine. Lower GI stuff is not half as pleasant...or so I'm told. I'm taking people's word on this one.
The funniest quip I got was this one:
My dog ate my barium once. Later, I saw him licking his rear--probably trying to get the taste of the barium out of his mouth....
Apparently, I am very fortunate to have been drinking mine. Lower GI stuff is not half as pleasant...or so I'm told. I'm taking people's word on this one.
The funniest quip I got was this one:
My dog ate my barium once. Later, I saw him licking his rear--probably trying to get the taste of the barium out of his mouth....
Top 10 Rejected Barium Slogans
10. New and improved paste flavor!
9. Barium: it's like spackling for your innards.
8. Something that looks this bad must taste good.
7. Barium: Miles from ordinary.
6. Fear of a white planet (Bonus points if you know the reference...without Google).
5. You might want to drink some water when you're done. No, really. Like, a lot of water.
4. Barium: The other white meat.
3. Atkins-friendly!
2. Approved by Balco Laboratories.
1. Sure, it looks like crap, but it tastes like crap too!
9. Barium: it's like spackling for your innards.
8. Something that looks this bad must taste good.
7. Barium: Miles from ordinary.
6. Fear of a white planet (Bonus points if you know the reference...without Google).
5. You might want to drink some water when you're done. No, really. Like, a lot of water.
4. Barium: The other white meat.
3. Atkins-friendly!
2. Approved by Balco Laboratories.
1. Sure, it looks like crap, but it tastes like crap too!
Barium...It's What's for Breakfast
This week I went for my FIRST SIX-MONTH checkup, post-cancer. I had to go for the CT Scan, which means I also had to drink two 20 ounce canisters of Barium. For those of you who don't know, Barium is kind of chalky, chunky, milky (think: wallpaper paste...in both consistency and taste). One canister at 9.00...not too bad, but bad enough. I got that uncontrollable shake you might get when you remember "The Drink That Did You Wrong" when you were younger. For me, it's rum and coke, for reasons I won't go into here. Every time I think of it, my head shakes, like someone half-sneezing, trying to get the thought and the taste out of my mouth. Barium is like that.
At 10.00, I take my second "fifth" of Barium. Not pleasant at all, and for a second or two, I wonder if I am going to keep it down. I had a window in the morning when I could eat breakfast, but I missed it in the general hectic activity that is my morning routine with my wife and daughter. By the time I realized, it was too late. Now, I am thankful.
I got to the office at about 11.00, right on time for the procedure. It was cool walking in, because these were people I had seen pretty much every day for more than a month when I went through radiation. They were happy to see me, it was funny (now) to think about all that has happened since the August 14th. I went into the CT Scan room and laid down on the "teleportation table" and was then inserted into the CT Scan tube/chamber.
"Here we go," I thought. And then my mind began to wander. "What if they find something?" "They won't." "Yeah, but what if they do?" It went on like that for a while. It was not a bad conversation, or a frightful one, just a detached observational musing about what it would mean if cancer came back. I arrived through the maze of my own thoughts at this: "If it comes back, I'll kick its ass back to the hell from which it came...AGAIN." That was enough. I wrapped up, got in my car and went back to the office. As I was arriving, Dr. Kottapally called and said everything looked good to him, but he was forwarding it on to a second specialist just to make sure. That was quick!
Friday, March 02, 2007
Fun Video
One of the cooler things I get to do in my job is meet with and serve awesome clients from a very, very diverse universe. I have worked with the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission for about five or six years now.
They just came up with a video to promote expanded fishing opportunities for this year's trout season in Pennsylvania. For those of you who don't know, the first day of Trout Season is like a combination of Mardi Gras and the SuperBowl, with a sprinkling of College Football tailgating, all rolled into one. It's attended with all the tradition and religious zeal by the most battle-hardened fisher-persons you can imagine, ages 4 to 104.
If you have never done opening day in our state, you owe it to yourself to do it, just once. Anyway, here's the video...enjoy
Extra cool: The first embedded video in my blog. I'm not sure the twenty-first century is ready for me, but I'm ready for it.
They just came up with a video to promote expanded fishing opportunities for this year's trout season in Pennsylvania. For those of you who don't know, the first day of Trout Season is like a combination of Mardi Gras and the SuperBowl, with a sprinkling of College Football tailgating, all rolled into one. It's attended with all the tradition and religious zeal by the most battle-hardened fisher-persons you can imagine, ages 4 to 104.
If you have never done opening day in our state, you owe it to yourself to do it, just once. Anyway, here's the video...enjoy
Extra cool: The first embedded video in my blog. I'm not sure the twenty-first century is ready for me, but I'm ready for it.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Comfort
I got some really kind thoughts and responses with regard to Daisy. Thank you very much. Your kindness meant the world to me and my family. Honestly, I felt kind of silly about being so busted up about my dog, but people really get it. I think perhaps it's a universal feeling for just about anyone who has had and lost a pet. They really are like family.
Ironically, my friend Beth put her dog TAZ down on the very next day. We had often talked about getting our hounds together, but were never able to pull it off. It was one of the things I thought about when Daisy passed. Now I see them playing together, chasing parked cars, turning over trash cans and blaming it on cats.
Here are a couple of things that touched me. The first is a VIDEO that I thought was a little corny at first, but really spoke to me as I watched it. The second is Message from Valhalla, a poem written from the perspective of a dog who's finally made it to the other side.
Ironically, my friend Beth put her dog TAZ down on the very next day. We had often talked about getting our hounds together, but were never able to pull it off. It was one of the things I thought about when Daisy passed. Now I see them playing together, chasing parked cars, turning over trash cans and blaming it on cats.
Here are a couple of things that touched me. The first is a VIDEO that I thought was a little corny at first, but really spoke to me as I watched it. The second is Message from Valhalla, a poem written from the perspective of a dog who's finally made it to the other side.
Message From Valhalla
by Jane S. Morris
You were with me to the very end and even after I had "gone" you held me, and as my soul left my body and I looked down and saw you crying, I wanted so much to tell you that I understood.
You did this for me.
I tried to tell you in my own way that it was time for me to leave, and I thank you for understanding.
No other will take my place, but those I left behind will need your love and affection as I have had.
You still think of me, and there are times you try to hide your tear-filled eyes but please be happy and think not of sadness, but of how I made you happy and made you laugh at the funny and smart things I did.
There are no fences in Valhalla, for no one has the desire to "dig out".
There are no thunderstorms in Valhalla, therefore fear is never present.
There are no fights in Valhalla. Everyone is congenial.
There is no hunger.
There is no thirst.
There is much to explore.
Many of us who are older take care of the little ones and guide them. It's fun watching them run with their ears flopping and their curly tails wagging.
We have four seasons in Valhalla, and most of us agree, winter is our favorite.So you see, my loved one, I am very happy. When it comes time for my friends to leave, I will meet them at the gates of Valhalla, and I will acquaint them with this beautiful and serene place, and I will take care of them for you.
Thank you for loving me, caring for me, and having the courage to let me go with dignity.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Daisy Dog
We had to put Daisy down last night. She has been on a pretty much steady decline since Thanksgiving. We found out she has Cushing's Disease, and put her on medication, but she just wasn't getting better. I called the vet yesterday and left a message. He called my wife back and spoke to her. Mrs. Fish explained that daisy was still wandering around in circles, leaving surprises in the house, and was disoriented almost all the time. The vet suspected that the tumor that causes the Cushing's probably ramped up, rather than being destroyed by the medication.
Mrs. Fish called me and explained the situation, and asked me to call the vet and set a time. It's a little weird to be setting an appointment to put your dog down.
"Hi, this is Fish, I'm Daisy's owner."
The girl on the other end says, in a cheery voice, "Hi, how can we help you today."
I need to make an appointment for Daisy." I was hoping she knew who Daisy was, so I didn't have to say it. She didn't, so I did. "I need to make an appointment for her tonight...to euthanize her," I said, choking up.
To her credit, she immediately recognized the situation and was wonderful, which makes all the difference in this kind of situation. We set it at 6.10, because they like to do it at the end of the day, after everyone else is out of the office.
"I understand. We'll be there. Thank you."
I got home, took a quick shower, and got dressed. Again, there are a thousand weird thoughts that go through your head. What do you wear to put your dog down? I chose a black sweater and jeans, I think more because they were on top than because they were apropos of anything. Then Daisy, Mrs. Fish, Little Fish and I drove to the vet. It's not far, but there are a lot of lights, which I seemed to catch mostly green. Couldn't they be red, to give us a little more time? Maybe it's better that we're being whisked along.
My daughter and wife were both crying intermittently. I think it was hardest on my them, because Daisy was their dog, especially Mrs. Fish--she just preferred being one of the girls. And then we were there. We walked in and sat down, waited for a minute or two until the girl at the desk came out and asked our names. "This is Daisy," I said and her compassion came out again.
"We'll bring you back in a couple of minutes," she replied, her humanity mercifully intact.
"Daisy." They called her like she was going in to get her teeth checked. My wife stood up, and I told Little Fish it was time to say goodbye. She got down on her knees and hugged her doggy for the last time, then I did too, and then Mrs. Fish took her back. My wife wanted to be with her, but my daughter knew it would be too much for her, so we stayed out in the lobby and comforted each other. After a while, she felt a little better, and then she Heely'd around the office (we were the only ones there and they had a smooth floor). It was nice to see her as a kid, the first time since I got home. Then we sat down and waited a little more.
"How long does this take?"
"I don't know, Little Fish. Sometimes they have to help other animals first, so you never know."
"Oh."
Then she just snuggled into my shoulder.
My wife walked out of the door into the waiting area, with the empty leash in her hand, and just started crying, which got all of us going again. We just stood there, holding each other for a while, and then it was time to go.
We walked out into the bitter cold night, and it hit me again that Daisy was not going to be there when we got home. But when was the last time she WAS there when you got home? I mean, REALLY there. I conceded in my mind that it had been a very long time.
We drove to Isaac's Deli and had a good meal. We talked briefly about Daisy, that she was a good dog, who gave us a lot of great memories. I explained to Little Fish that this was part of her heritage. "When someone dies, the people who knew him or her all go out for a meal, and they throw a party to remember all of the good things about him. Other people do it, but no one does it like the Irish."
"Does that mean they drink a lot of beer?" asked Little Fish.
"Yes, that's often true, too."
We ate our meal, and talked about lots of things, things that were not Daisy, and managed to laugh a little. She was a great dog, who led a good life with the Fishes, and she's in a better place. We did the right thing, and that makes a huge difference.
Toward the end of the meal, we were more or less ourselves, and Little Fish turned to me, very earnestly. I wish I could remmber exactly what she said, but it was something like "Daddy, this was a hard thing, and it made me very sad. Thanks for being you. You made it better." It warmed my heart, all the way to my soul.
When we got home, Mrs. Fish and Little Fish went upstairs, while I packed up Daisy's things and put them out. I wept.
Mrs. Fish called me and explained the situation, and asked me to call the vet and set a time. It's a little weird to be setting an appointment to put your dog down.
"Hi, this is Fish, I'm Daisy's owner."
The girl on the other end says, in a cheery voice, "Hi, how can we help you today."
I need to make an appointment for Daisy." I was hoping she knew who Daisy was, so I didn't have to say it. She didn't, so I did. "I need to make an appointment for her tonight...to euthanize her," I said, choking up.
To her credit, she immediately recognized the situation and was wonderful, which makes all the difference in this kind of situation. We set it at 6.10, because they like to do it at the end of the day, after everyone else is out of the office.
"I understand. We'll be there. Thank you."
I got home, took a quick shower, and got dressed. Again, there are a thousand weird thoughts that go through your head. What do you wear to put your dog down? I chose a black sweater and jeans, I think more because they were on top than because they were apropos of anything. Then Daisy, Mrs. Fish, Little Fish and I drove to the vet. It's not far, but there are a lot of lights, which I seemed to catch mostly green. Couldn't they be red, to give us a little more time? Maybe it's better that we're being whisked along.
My daughter and wife were both crying intermittently. I think it was hardest on my them, because Daisy was their dog, especially Mrs. Fish--she just preferred being one of the girls. And then we were there. We walked in and sat down, waited for a minute or two until the girl at the desk came out and asked our names. "This is Daisy," I said and her compassion came out again.
"We'll bring you back in a couple of minutes," she replied, her humanity mercifully intact.
"Daisy." They called her like she was going in to get her teeth checked. My wife stood up, and I told Little Fish it was time to say goodbye. She got down on her knees and hugged her doggy for the last time, then I did too, and then Mrs. Fish took her back. My wife wanted to be with her, but my daughter knew it would be too much for her, so we stayed out in the lobby and comforted each other. After a while, she felt a little better, and then she Heely'd around the office (we were the only ones there and they had a smooth floor). It was nice to see her as a kid, the first time since I got home. Then we sat down and waited a little more.
"How long does this take?"
"I don't know, Little Fish. Sometimes they have to help other animals first, so you never know."
"Oh."
Then she just snuggled into my shoulder.
My wife walked out of the door into the waiting area, with the empty leash in her hand, and just started crying, which got all of us going again. We just stood there, holding each other for a while, and then it was time to go.
We walked out into the bitter cold night, and it hit me again that Daisy was not going to be there when we got home. But when was the last time she WAS there when you got home? I mean, REALLY there. I conceded in my mind that it had been a very long time.
We drove to Isaac's Deli and had a good meal. We talked briefly about Daisy, that she was a good dog, who gave us a lot of great memories. I explained to Little Fish that this was part of her heritage. "When someone dies, the people who knew him or her all go out for a meal, and they throw a party to remember all of the good things about him. Other people do it, but no one does it like the Irish."
"Does that mean they drink a lot of beer?" asked Little Fish.
"Yes, that's often true, too."
We ate our meal, and talked about lots of things, things that were not Daisy, and managed to laugh a little. She was a great dog, who led a good life with the Fishes, and she's in a better place. We did the right thing, and that makes a huge difference.
Toward the end of the meal, we were more or less ourselves, and Little Fish turned to me, very earnestly. I wish I could remmber exactly what she said, but it was something like "Daddy, this was a hard thing, and it made me very sad. Thanks for being you. You made it better." It warmed my heart, all the way to my soul.
When we got home, Mrs. Fish and Little Fish went upstairs, while I packed up Daisy's things and put them out. I wept.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
The Blind Side
Michael Lewis has written another fantastic book, this time about the evolution of the left tackle position in football...and, as he does, a whole lot more than that. The left tackle position has grown as the need to protect the quarterback from his "blind side" has. NFL defenses stack the most fearsome destroyers of quarterbacks against the left side, knowing that right handed quarterbacks looking downfield have a blind side. The defense is arranged with the understanding that hits will be unseen until it is too late, and the damage done will be particularly devastating (witness the career-ending hit the original LT put on Joe Theisman...if you saw it, you probably still wince, just thinking about it). I read Moneyball last year and learned a lot about baseball and how teams are run, and how a small market team like the Oakland A's can compete with the Yankees and Red Sox. More than just a sports story, The Blind Side tells what happens when people take an active interest in a young man, and afford him an environment where he can be successful and reach his potential.
The story follows Michael Oher, a young teenager with all of the physical tools to be one of the greatest left tackles professional football has ever seen. Only, he doesn't know it. The problem is that he lacks even the most rudimantary of social skills or education, owing to his existence on the streets of the Memphis ghetto. The Tuohy's, a wealthy Christian, white family take Michael in, eventually adopting him, and help him grow as a player, student, and most impressively, as a man. The book offers insight into the manic world of Southern Football, strategies of the game, and most amazingly, what happens when very different worlds collide...or, perhaps merge is a better word.
Read this book.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Motivation...NOT!
If you're like me (perish the thought--the psyche bills alone are burdensome at best, crushing at worst) you despise those motivational posters. You know the ones.
Now, there's a place for me, and people like me.
For over two decades, the multi-billion dollar motivation industry has unleashed untold suffering upon the workplaces, schools and civil institutions of the world- in the insidious form of the motivational poster. By the millions they have been sold and displayed- these dark instruments of corporate propaganda. While promising to stimulate "Hope", "Success" and "Teamwork", instead these tools of coercion and intimidation have inspired only grief, anger and nausea.
In 1998, one company dared to fight back, as Despair, Inc. introduced Demotivator,
satirical products reverse-engineered from the most powerful motivational posters ever inflicted upon mankind. And now, with the Parody Motivator Generator, we place those very same tools in YOUR less-capable hands.
You can turn the motivational world on it's head with THIS SITE. Now, you can create your own Fake Motivational Posters, unleashing your creativity and general spoofiness. Create your own and redesign your cube or office...
All UR Catz R Belong to US
If you're not a cat person (LT. DAN!!!) you can just skip this thread....
One of the funniest things I have seen in a long time is THIS SITE, which has funny cats, doing funny cat things, with poorly grammarized (which increases the funny factor) sayings. To wit:
One of the funniest things I have seen in a long time is THIS SITE, which has funny cats, doing funny cat things, with poorly grammarized (which increases the funny factor) sayings. To wit:
I Wanna Get Physical
Some of you have been following my Physical Therapy for the bike crash. Last week, I got a compliment from the PT on my form for the lunges I have been doing. One of the things I have learned from Lou, Bill, Alwyn, etc. id the importance of form. Most people wouldn't recognize proper form if it hit them in the face (I Love when he punches the bag...the PASSION!), so it's kind of cool when you go in and someone who should recognize decent form, does.
I have to say, I am really feeling better. My lower back doesn't hurt nearly as much, nearly as often. The thigh injury is pretty much still there all time, but the intensity is much less.
It's been too cold to run. Getting up early or runing at night in this kind of cold appeals to me not at all. Still, the rumor is that it might get up to 38 degres today, so I may go for a run...
I have to say, I am really feeling better. My lower back doesn't hurt nearly as much, nearly as often. The thigh injury is pretty much still there all time, but the intensity is much less.
It's been too cold to run. Getting up early or runing at night in this kind of cold appeals to me not at all. Still, the rumor is that it might get up to 38 degres today, so I may go for a run...
Monday, February 05, 2007
Scary...but not really SCARY
I was watching the Super Bowl and came to a startling conclusion. I had eaten more than usual (not a LOT more...just more. It's the Super Bowl! You did the same thing!) and decided to wash it down with a brewskie. I drank a Molson, then considered a second. That's when it dawned on me (cue the Anthony Perkins music): I really don't like beer.
I know! Weird! Scary (I told you)! I felt kind of gross, didn't enjoy the taste, and just generally felt bloated. From a beer. That I drank but didn't really like drinking. When faced with a second one, I just switched to water.
I know! Weird! Scary (I told you)! I felt kind of gross, didn't enjoy the taste, and just generally felt bloated. From a beer. That I drank but didn't really like drinking. When faced with a second one, I just switched to water.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Found Some Pics
..of myself at the Got the Nerve Triathlon website. They're watermarked, but still...
Being chased out of the water by an alien:
Digging on the bike:
Still digging:
Being chased out of the water by an alien:
Digging on the bike:
Still digging:
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Hodgepodge...
Kind of a little bit of everything, just to get caught up.
Men's Summit
I had the privelege of speaking at the Men's Summit for my church. It was an amazing gathering of men; there's something about how God works through the hearts of men, and I gained a great deal of strength and perspective from the experience.
Strength, because I was reminded of how a true Band of brothers works. I think we become stronger when we join together. I liken it to the Iroquois League. They banded together to become stronger, a novel concept at the time, and became one of the most powerful groups of Native Americans. They used the arrow as a symbol, as I recall, of their strength. A single arrow was easily broken, but a group of arrows, banded together, was unbreakable, even by the strongest of warriors.
I also gained a perspective, that I am part of something larger. My part is not big, or particularly important, but the role I play as a light of Christ's love is part of the larger play of many people's lives, and in many ways it is that which is important. My friend John has a quote that says, "There is no light at the end of the tunnel. You carry the light with you." All I can do is love people, but if I do it well, real change might actually occur in the world...or perhaps only in my small part of it...which is okay, too.
Daisy
Daisy continues to get better, but only by the smallest of increments. She doesn't pee in the house when we are home, and she doesn't wake up 3 or 4 times per night, two blessings for which I am hugely grateful. That being said, she is still out if a lot of the time, still wandering aimlessly, and she still has trouble keeping it together when we are gone. hang in there, little pup...
Physical Therapy
I started physical therapy for my leg and back last week. It makes a big difference. It is tough to do some of the exercises, but others are easy. I will write more about this in this week, showcasing my incredible (LOL) range of motion and strength. HEY! It could happen!
Men's Summit
I had the privelege of speaking at the Men's Summit for my church. It was an amazing gathering of men; there's something about how God works through the hearts of men, and I gained a great deal of strength and perspective from the experience.
Strength, because I was reminded of how a true Band of brothers works. I think we become stronger when we join together. I liken it to the Iroquois League. They banded together to become stronger, a novel concept at the time, and became one of the most powerful groups of Native Americans. They used the arrow as a symbol, as I recall, of their strength. A single arrow was easily broken, but a group of arrows, banded together, was unbreakable, even by the strongest of warriors.
I also gained a perspective, that I am part of something larger. My part is not big, or particularly important, but the role I play as a light of Christ's love is part of the larger play of many people's lives, and in many ways it is that which is important. My friend John has a quote that says, "There is no light at the end of the tunnel. You carry the light with you." All I can do is love people, but if I do it well, real change might actually occur in the world...or perhaps only in my small part of it...which is okay, too.
Daisy
Daisy continues to get better, but only by the smallest of increments. She doesn't pee in the house when we are home, and she doesn't wake up 3 or 4 times per night, two blessings for which I am hugely grateful. That being said, she is still out if a lot of the time, still wandering aimlessly, and she still has trouble keeping it together when we are gone. hang in there, little pup...
Physical Therapy
I started physical therapy for my leg and back last week. It makes a big difference. It is tough to do some of the exercises, but others are easy. I will write more about this in this week, showcasing my incredible (LOL) range of motion and strength. HEY! It could happen!
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Release the HOUND!
All week, we were pretty sure Daisy was done. We took her to the vets on Wednesday, and were confident she had Cushing's Disease. On Thursday, they ran the tests and confirmed that it was, indeed, Cushing's Disease. There are two kinds, one pretty much making it a done deal, and the other, we believed, was a pretty expensive and involved treatment regimen. In talking with the vet, he asked to run another test to determine what kind she had, and we agreed. On Friday they ran the tests and asked us to come in at 6.30, when the results would be back.
Daisy is really Mrs. Fish's dog, and of course my daughter loves her because she's a kid and kids love dogs. It's part of God's design for their DNA. So I'm trying to make sure they're okay, and realizing that we're pretty much going to put Daisy to sleep. I'm not doing well with this at all.
We get to the vet and they give us the bill for Daisy. Mrs. Fish is a little miffed, but I recall writing a check after Josie died and I much prefer the up-front method. Just me. They take us back to the office, and after what seems an eternity, the vet comes in. He explains that Daisy has Cushing's, but she can get medication that will probably alleviate her symptoms. My wife and I were bracing for an $11 pill given daily--simple math makes the decision as to what to do easy at that point. But, the vet explains that she will only need 1/4 of the pill....3 times a week. There is quite a difference between $240 a month and $33 a month.
It sank in with Mrs. Fish and Little Fish what the vet was saying. There is a good chance she will return to ful functioning. She'll probably get her mind back. The first thing to change is that she'll stop peeing in the house. We could have our doggie back, in as little as a week or two.
My wife cried. My daughter cried. I explained to Little Fish that I guess God just wasn't ready to use Daisy in Heaven, and she just cried some more and said it was good. She said it was her first time crying happy tears. I hadn't thought about it, but she's right.
Daisy is home now, sleeping on her little bed.
Daisy is really Mrs. Fish's dog, and of course my daughter loves her because she's a kid and kids love dogs. It's part of God's design for their DNA. So I'm trying to make sure they're okay, and realizing that we're pretty much going to put Daisy to sleep. I'm not doing well with this at all.
We get to the vet and they give us the bill for Daisy. Mrs. Fish is a little miffed, but I recall writing a check after Josie died and I much prefer the up-front method. Just me. They take us back to the office, and after what seems an eternity, the vet comes in. He explains that Daisy has Cushing's, but she can get medication that will probably alleviate her symptoms. My wife and I were bracing for an $11 pill given daily--simple math makes the decision as to what to do easy at that point. But, the vet explains that she will only need 1/4 of the pill....3 times a week. There is quite a difference between $240 a month and $33 a month.
It sank in with Mrs. Fish and Little Fish what the vet was saying. There is a good chance she will return to ful functioning. She'll probably get her mind back. The first thing to change is that she'll stop peeing in the house. We could have our doggie back, in as little as a week or two.
My wife cried. My daughter cried. I explained to Little Fish that I guess God just wasn't ready to use Daisy in Heaven, and she just cried some more and said it was good. She said it was her first time crying happy tears. I hadn't thought about it, but she's right.
Daisy is home now, sleeping on her little bed.
Monday, January 15, 2007
My Generation's Sinatra
It looks like the rest of the world shares my fascination with all things David. Witness THIS REVIEW section of his album Looking for the Best, which contains 1,030 reviews of the smash album, with appropriate commentary/homage to the genius that is David Hasselhoff.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Little Dog Lost
My dog Daisy has had ongoing health problems for the past two months, notably bladder control, wandering, being disoriented and general tiredness all the time. We've taken her to the vets multiple times, but they continue to be baffled. We've been able to say what it isn't, ruling out diabetes, cancer, and probably renal failure, but have not been able to say what it is.
Last Tuesday was my daughter's 9th birthday (Little Fish!) and we had some of the girls in the neighborhood over to celebrate. While they were coming in, Daisy was inadvertantly let out. Part of her general malaise has been this tendency to wander endlessly, doing a circuit through wahtever room we happen to be in. I noticed, after some time, that she was not underfoot. I immediately looked around, then asked Mrs. Fish if she had seen Daisy: Negative.
The search began, and we looked in the house, then the outside area of the house, then the neighborhood. Several of our neighbors came over and helped us look (we are blessed to live in that kind of neighborhood, the kind in which many of us grew up, the kind I was convinced, at one point, no longer existed) for Daisy. One of my neighbors, Miss B., wandered up to the ballfield, about a quarter mile away from the house...and there was Daisy!!!
She had wandered into a t-ball field and could not figure out how to get out. Miss B. scooped her up and called us--I drove up and she plopped her in the front seat of my car. It was a good thing she was found, because the temperature was below freezing that night, with snow, and I am certain that, had Miss B. not found her, Daisy would not have made it through the night. Sighs of relief were, and are still, heard through the Fish-house.
Now, if only we can figure out what is wrong with Little Daisy...
Double Docs
Caution: Graphic Medical Descriptions
I went to the doctors this week. Two of them. I am still feeling stiff and am in pain from getting hit by the pickup truck. I've had radiating pain across my lower back, scar tissue building up in the forearm area where I landed on the rocks, and most pressingly, a pain down the outside of my left leg. I wanted to make sure that nothing was missed or that things were on track for healing so i scheduled an appointment with an osteopath.
Dr. Z. is on eof those older, talkative, has-a-story-for-every-situation type of guys. He was also a rider in his youth, covering 300+ miles on trips with his buddies over long weekends...yeesh! He said the first two items were okay, but that the reason my thigh was hurting is because when I landed, i bruised a major nerve running down that side. I told him it still hurt, and he said I could expect it to do so for some time.
"How much time?"
"Six months...longer. I've seen some of these take over a year-and-a-half to heal fully. If it gets worse, call me and we'll snip it. It will go numb, but at least you'll be out of pain."
It doesn't hurt bad enough for that, so I'll just keep on going. Carp.
I also had to get a pair of x-rays while I was there, just to make sure no fractures were missed in the original x-rays. The nurse informed me I would probably have to take my pants off, but she could give me a gown if I wanted. I told her my brief history, and said, "I've been poked, prodded, stuck, disrobed, marked and sliced. I think I'll be okay with this, too." She laughed and we took the x-rays: Normal.
Doctor II...
I was also having problems related to the testicular removal surgery (radical left orchiectomy, for those keeping track), most notably blood in my semen. I called Dr. Wenger, the guy who performed the surgery, and left a message with his nurse.
I was a little worried (blood does NOT belong there!) so I was glad when they called back and said it was most likely an infection. Apparently, these things are not uncommon, and the SOP is to give horsepills (500mg of Cipro 2x per day) for a week to clear it up...oh, and no ejaculations for a month.
"WHAT!!??!!!?"
Yup. Actually, it was funny because the woman giving me the news was obviously in a crowded room, and she was trying to keep her voice down as she told me the news. For a second, I considered playing deaf, and saying, "I'm sorry what? What? Um, can you speak up--I'm having trouble hearing you." Maybe next time.
I went to the doctors this week. Two of them. I am still feeling stiff and am in pain from getting hit by the pickup truck. I've had radiating pain across my lower back, scar tissue building up in the forearm area where I landed on the rocks, and most pressingly, a pain down the outside of my left leg. I wanted to make sure that nothing was missed or that things were on track for healing so i scheduled an appointment with an osteopath.
Dr. Z. is on eof those older, talkative, has-a-story-for-every-situation type of guys. He was also a rider in his youth, covering 300+ miles on trips with his buddies over long weekends...yeesh! He said the first two items were okay, but that the reason my thigh was hurting is because when I landed, i bruised a major nerve running down that side. I told him it still hurt, and he said I could expect it to do so for some time.
"How much time?"
"Six months...longer. I've seen some of these take over a year-and-a-half to heal fully. If it gets worse, call me and we'll snip it. It will go numb, but at least you'll be out of pain."
It doesn't hurt bad enough for that, so I'll just keep on going. Carp.
I also had to get a pair of x-rays while I was there, just to make sure no fractures were missed in the original x-rays. The nurse informed me I would probably have to take my pants off, but she could give me a gown if I wanted. I told her my brief history, and said, "I've been poked, prodded, stuck, disrobed, marked and sliced. I think I'll be okay with this, too." She laughed and we took the x-rays: Normal.
Doctor II...
I was also having problems related to the testicular removal surgery (radical left orchiectomy, for those keeping track), most notably blood in my semen. I called Dr. Wenger, the guy who performed the surgery, and left a message with his nurse.
I was a little worried (blood does NOT belong there!) so I was glad when they called back and said it was most likely an infection. Apparently, these things are not uncommon, and the SOP is to give horsepills (500mg of Cipro 2x per day) for a week to clear it up...oh, and no ejaculations for a month.
"WHAT!!??!!!?"
Yup. Actually, it was funny because the woman giving me the news was obviously in a crowded room, and she was trying to keep her voice down as she told me the news. For a second, I considered playing deaf, and saying, "I'm sorry what? What? Um, can you speak up--I'm having trouble hearing you." Maybe next time.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
My Day in Court: Preliminary Hearing
I showed up at court and saw the officer who was first on the scene pulling up at the same time, and he walked in ahead of me. I entered the building and announced myself at the front desk area, and felt the people in the waiting area tense up. I realized that one of them was probably the defendant and the rest were his family. The officer came out from a back room right away and sequestered me in a different area. We talked for a little bit, and he told me what would happen. "Also," he said, "he has hired his own attorney. The attorney may grill you. It's nothing personal, just that he's paid to try to make you look bad."
Great.
The courtroom was set up by dyslexics. The judge enters from the right side, so the witness chair is set up on the left. This means that the prosecution sits on that side (the officer informed me they always sit on the same side as the witness chair...learn something every day), not the traditional right side, like you see in all of those television crime dramas.
"The prosecution would like to call FishrCutB8/Rob." It is very weird hearing your name called in conjunction with a court case. My daughter takes drama classes (like she NEEDS them) and the one thing they ALWAYS stress is the three Bs: Be Seen, Be Heard, Be Understood. It was my mantra while I was up on the stand, and it brought great calm.
The officer asked me to describe the events of that day, and I told how I was riding along (should have inserted the cliche: "minding my own business...") when I felt a force hit me from behind and lift me up off my bicycle. As I was in the air, I heard a voice in my head say, "Get Safe", so as I hit the pavement on my left side, I sprang off with my right foot and landed in the grass on the side of the road. He asked about my experience on a bike (4 years) number of miles ridden per year (500-800+) was I wearing a helmet (YES!), and the like. He also presented evidence of my injuries (nice photos...eek!) and the truck that ran me over ("Is this the truck that struck you?"). Then he rested and it was the attorney's turn.
He asked a lot of questions, but the central ones were:
Q: Did I notice the driver driving eratically?
A: No.
Q: What direction was I facing when I landed?
A: Toward the direction of traffic.
Q: Did the truck squeal tires when leaving?
A: No.
Q: How far were you from the truck when you landed and saw it stop?
A: About 30 feet.
Q: Shouldn't you have been in the other side of the road?
A: No. There are two reasons for this. First, by traveling with traffic, if you get hit, it efectively dampens the impact because you are traveling in the same direction. A 15 mph bike hit by a 40 mph truck has an effective impact of 25 mph. Conversely, in a head on collision, a 15 mph bike hit by a 40 mph truck has an effective impact of 55 mph. Second, Pennsylvania state law dictates I travel with traffic, as far to the right as possible, which is where I was when I was struck.
Q: Are there grates on the road there?
A: Yes, off to the side of the road.
Q: How did you proceed around them?
A: I didn't. I went past them. By ducking in and out of obstacles on the side of the road, you make yourself erratic, and it's this lack of predictability that gets cyclists hurt when they cut back out in front of cars.
Q: Is it safe to say there was a lot of glare from the setting sun that day.
A: Yes
Then the officer on the scene gave his testimony. He described coming up to me, lying on the ground, bleeding and in pain. I was already on the back board and neck brace at that point. He got my description of the truck. Also, he recovered a cap from the hub of the truck, which would later be used to identify the year, make and model. Then, he was cross-examined. The critical questions were:
Q: Did the defendant turn himself in?
A: Yes.
Q: Was he cooperative?
A: Yes.
Q: What was his demeanor?
A: He was very upset, and even cried at one point. (Interesting. Not to pound my own chest, but I got run over by a truck and didn't cry.)
Q: Is it likely you would never have caught him if he hadn't turned himself in?
A: I can't say, because we had a stakeout on the road and he travels it every day.
Q: Did you read him Miranda?
A: No.
There were also questions about the timeline, and the fact that I was hit, the press release went out, and the defendant turned himself in after reading about it. His mom followed with her testimony, and said her son had not been drinking or doing drugs prior to driving that day.
Finally they gave closing arguments. The defense attorney went first, stating that there was a lot of glare on the road that caused the accident. Also, the defendant thought he hit something on the side of the road. There was no report of him driving erratically. The defendant was not drinking, which is, according to him, the primary reason to file charges of this sort. And, because of my apparent state of mind, I may not have accurately seen the defendant's truck come to a complete stop, then take off at a high rate of speed. He finished with the defendant having the accident, going home, reading about it, checking and seeing damage to his truck, putting two and two together and turning himself in. He asked that, because of all this, the charges against his client be dropped.
The officer gave the closing argument for the state, saying that his failure to stop and render aid was the central issue. Also, there is a clear difference between hitting a squirrel or a grate and hitting a human being, and that a reasonable person would know the difference. He concluded with the defendant turning himself in for fear of geting nailed.
I was sitting in the back and realized SOMETHING HAD BEEN MISSED! In a court, you don't speak unless spoken to, and I wanted to scream, but I was struck mute (not easy for an Irishman, I assure you, especially when we have something to say). I wanted to scream "YOU FORGOT TO ADDRESS MY STATE OF MIND!" Ironically, screaming that in a courtroom would have addressed that very issue...
Because this was a preliminary hearing, it was up to the judge to weigh all of the evidence and testimony and decide if they should move to trial. He started off saying that there was a serious injury that resulted from the actions of the defendant. Furthermore, the defendant's failure to stop and render aid, especially given the obvious difference between striking a person and striking a grate were, in his mind, critical. Last, he stated that my "state of mind" was obviously sound enough to look at a truck, identify it from 30 feet away, remember it all, then give a thorough description of the vehicle to the police when they did show up. (THANK YOU VERY MUCH!).
The Crappy
On my way over to the courthouse, I passed a cyclist who was struck by a car. I'm not sure what happened or how bad it was, but there was an ambulance on the scene.
The Cool
The Assistant District Attorney, who is responsible for prosecuting the case for the court is a cyclist who rides up to 2K per year.
The Funny
I told my daughter I was going to court, and she asked, "Can I come?"
"If you'd like." (She ended up stayinghome with a friend--they had no school that day.)
"Is there going to be a big audience, like in Judge Judy?"
"Probably not, honey."
Great.
The courtroom was set up by dyslexics. The judge enters from the right side, so the witness chair is set up on the left. This means that the prosecution sits on that side (the officer informed me they always sit on the same side as the witness chair...learn something every day), not the traditional right side, like you see in all of those television crime dramas.
"The prosecution would like to call FishrCutB8/Rob." It is very weird hearing your name called in conjunction with a court case. My daughter takes drama classes (like she NEEDS them) and the one thing they ALWAYS stress is the three Bs: Be Seen, Be Heard, Be Understood. It was my mantra while I was up on the stand, and it brought great calm.
The officer asked me to describe the events of that day, and I told how I was riding along (should have inserted the cliche: "minding my own business...") when I felt a force hit me from behind and lift me up off my bicycle. As I was in the air, I heard a voice in my head say, "Get Safe", so as I hit the pavement on my left side, I sprang off with my right foot and landed in the grass on the side of the road. He asked about my experience on a bike (4 years) number of miles ridden per year (500-800+) was I wearing a helmet (YES!), and the like. He also presented evidence of my injuries (nice photos...eek!) and the truck that ran me over ("Is this the truck that struck you?"). Then he rested and it was the attorney's turn.
He asked a lot of questions, but the central ones were:
Q: Did I notice the driver driving eratically?
A: No.
Q: What direction was I facing when I landed?
A: Toward the direction of traffic.
Q: Did the truck squeal tires when leaving?
A: No.
Q: How far were you from the truck when you landed and saw it stop?
A: About 30 feet.
Q: Shouldn't you have been in the other side of the road?
A: No. There are two reasons for this. First, by traveling with traffic, if you get hit, it efectively dampens the impact because you are traveling in the same direction. A 15 mph bike hit by a 40 mph truck has an effective impact of 25 mph. Conversely, in a head on collision, a 15 mph bike hit by a 40 mph truck has an effective impact of 55 mph. Second, Pennsylvania state law dictates I travel with traffic, as far to the right as possible, which is where I was when I was struck.
Q: Are there grates on the road there?
A: Yes, off to the side of the road.
Q: How did you proceed around them?
A: I didn't. I went past them. By ducking in and out of obstacles on the side of the road, you make yourself erratic, and it's this lack of predictability that gets cyclists hurt when they cut back out in front of cars.
Q: Is it safe to say there was a lot of glare from the setting sun that day.
A: Yes
Then the officer on the scene gave his testimony. He described coming up to me, lying on the ground, bleeding and in pain. I was already on the back board and neck brace at that point. He got my description of the truck. Also, he recovered a cap from the hub of the truck, which would later be used to identify the year, make and model. Then, he was cross-examined. The critical questions were:
Q: Did the defendant turn himself in?
A: Yes.
Q: Was he cooperative?
A: Yes.
Q: What was his demeanor?
A: He was very upset, and even cried at one point. (Interesting. Not to pound my own chest, but I got run over by a truck and didn't cry.)
Q: Is it likely you would never have caught him if he hadn't turned himself in?
A: I can't say, because we had a stakeout on the road and he travels it every day.
Q: Did you read him Miranda?
A: No.
There were also questions about the timeline, and the fact that I was hit, the press release went out, and the defendant turned himself in after reading about it. His mom followed with her testimony, and said her son had not been drinking or doing drugs prior to driving that day.
Finally they gave closing arguments. The defense attorney went first, stating that there was a lot of glare on the road that caused the accident. Also, the defendant thought he hit something on the side of the road. There was no report of him driving erratically. The defendant was not drinking, which is, according to him, the primary reason to file charges of this sort. And, because of my apparent state of mind, I may not have accurately seen the defendant's truck come to a complete stop, then take off at a high rate of speed. He finished with the defendant having the accident, going home, reading about it, checking and seeing damage to his truck, putting two and two together and turning himself in. He asked that, because of all this, the charges against his client be dropped.
The officer gave the closing argument for the state, saying that his failure to stop and render aid was the central issue. Also, there is a clear difference between hitting a squirrel or a grate and hitting a human being, and that a reasonable person would know the difference. He concluded with the defendant turning himself in for fear of geting nailed.
I was sitting in the back and realized SOMETHING HAD BEEN MISSED! In a court, you don't speak unless spoken to, and I wanted to scream, but I was struck mute (not easy for an Irishman, I assure you, especially when we have something to say). I wanted to scream "YOU FORGOT TO ADDRESS MY STATE OF MIND!" Ironically, screaming that in a courtroom would have addressed that very issue...
Because this was a preliminary hearing, it was up to the judge to weigh all of the evidence and testimony and decide if they should move to trial. He started off saying that there was a serious injury that resulted from the actions of the defendant. Furthermore, the defendant's failure to stop and render aid, especially given the obvious difference between striking a person and striking a grate were, in his mind, critical. Last, he stated that my "state of mind" was obviously sound enough to look at a truck, identify it from 30 feet away, remember it all, then give a thorough description of the vehicle to the police when they did show up. (THANK YOU VERY MUCH!).
The Crappy
On my way over to the courthouse, I passed a cyclist who was struck by a car. I'm not sure what happened or how bad it was, but there was an ambulance on the scene.
The Cool
The Assistant District Attorney, who is responsible for prosecuting the case for the court is a cyclist who rides up to 2K per year.
The Funny
I told my daughter I was going to court, and she asked, "Can I come?"
"If you'd like." (She ended up stayinghome with a friend--they had no school that day.)
"Is there going to be a big audience, like in Judge Judy?"
"Probably not, honey."
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
My Day in Court...
...is today. I got my subpoena and have to go before 'Da Judge and tell what happened when the guy ran me over on my bike. I was pretty nervous last night, but I feel better about things now. Still, it will be weird facing the guy that did the damage.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Time
I have been putting in some serious time with the family, this holiday. Absolutely the best, especially loving up my daughter. I have painted all of the furniture for her bedroom, and my wife helped her organize a boatload of stuff and purge the extraneous. It will be nice for her to be able to start the New Year with a New Room...pics to follow.
Also, my friend Tink took a bunch of pics of my birthday party, which I'll be posting soon..may have to put electrical tape over some of the eyes, though! I'll blog the experience when I can tell the story with pictures...Hope everyone is having a beautiful Christmas and is set for a safe and happy New Year.
Also, my friend Tink took a bunch of pics of my birthday party, which I'll be posting soon..may have to put electrical tape over some of the eyes, though! I'll blog the experience when I can tell the story with pictures...Hope everyone is having a beautiful Christmas and is set for a safe and happy New Year.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Mango 5.0
I woke up and it was cold. I knew it the second I was awake. My body kept telling me to stay in bed. I gazed across the bed, bleary eyed, at the clock: 5:26. You have to be kidding? Do you know how cold it is going to be out there? Yes.
I sat up in bed. Not even the dog was going to get up with me at this hour. I went in to the bathroom and drank two cups of water and grabbed my gear from the closet. My new hat and reflective jacket were waiting to be used--my wife's Merry Christmas to me. She insisted on the Mango color (yes, it's REALLY called Mango), because it was brighter, and less likely to get me run over.
"I love that woman," I thought.
The bitter-angry-part of my body that still wanted to be in bed replied, "If it weren't for her, we'd still be sleeping like smart people everywhere."
I went downstairs, made the coffee and headed out the door. Turns out I was right--it was cold...only, not as cold as I thought. I found my stride quickly. I started up the hill at the half-mile mark and was feeling pretty warm. At a little past the one mile mark, I had to take the hat off. At that point I was feeling really good and decided to make it a longer run than I initially planned. I made the right out toward the high school.
It started to snow. I put the hat back on, but Iw as still feeling pretty good, nice and warm. I got to the turnaround. It was suddenly thrust upon me why I was doing so well. The first 70% of my run had been done with a tailwind. There was a 15 mph wind in my face...with gusts of about 30 mph.
"There's only one way home," I said.
"Dumbass," said Mr. Bitter.
I turned for home, then made the longer turn that would make this a 5 mile run, just to shut mr. Bitter up. He did. I climbed the last challenging hill and knew I was cruising for home. I said a prayer of thanks, running through the snow, that I was still strong enough to do this.
I went to the store and made breakfast. I'm looking at the clock now. It's 8.30. THAT is a FULL morning.
I sat up in bed. Not even the dog was going to get up with me at this hour. I went in to the bathroom and drank two cups of water and grabbed my gear from the closet. My new hat and reflective jacket were waiting to be used--my wife's Merry Christmas to me. She insisted on the Mango color (yes, it's REALLY called Mango), because it was brighter, and less likely to get me run over.
"I love that woman," I thought.
The bitter-angry-part of my body that still wanted to be in bed replied, "If it weren't for her, we'd still be sleeping like smart people everywhere."
I went downstairs, made the coffee and headed out the door. Turns out I was right--it was cold...only, not as cold as I thought. I found my stride quickly. I started up the hill at the half-mile mark and was feeling pretty warm. At a little past the one mile mark, I had to take the hat off. At that point I was feeling really good and decided to make it a longer run than I initially planned. I made the right out toward the high school.
It started to snow. I put the hat back on, but Iw as still feeling pretty good, nice and warm. I got to the turnaround. It was suddenly thrust upon me why I was doing so well. The first 70% of my run had been done with a tailwind. There was a 15 mph wind in my face...with gusts of about 30 mph.
"There's only one way home," I said.
"Dumbass," said Mr. Bitter.
I turned for home, then made the longer turn that would make this a 5 mile run, just to shut mr. Bitter up. He did. I climbed the last challenging hill and knew I was cruising for home. I said a prayer of thanks, running through the snow, that I was still strong enough to do this.
I went to the store and made breakfast. I'm looking at the clock now. It's 8.30. THAT is a FULL morning.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Take a Ride....
I thought THIS VIDEO was a beautiful ride. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did...
ANd while you're out taking a spin, take a ride with DEXTER BENJAMIN. It's a great picture of the human spirit and living life by your own terms. I say, "Well done."
ANd while you're out taking a spin, take a ride with DEXTER BENJAMIN. It's a great picture of the human spirit and living life by your own terms. I say, "Well done."
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
More from the Nature Hike...
A couple more pics from my hike with my daughter...In her tree once again
The Center also has a beaver dam display, where kids can crawl around and see what it's like to live as a winter beaver.
The Center also has a beaver dam display, where kids can crawl around and see what it's like to live as a winter beaver.
Wildwood Nature Center
I took my daughter to Wildwood Nature Center and went on a hike. Snapped a couple pics of the adventure, and I'm also including some from our trek this summer (the ones where she is in short sleeves. She was amazed to learn we hiked TWO WHOLE MILES(!) on this hike. We also saw squirrels, titmouse, wood ducks, Candian geese, finches, and woodpeckers. In the swampier parts, we saw tracks from deer, racoons, and what I suspect was a bear (it was way too big to be anything else).
Summer...
Me and my hiking partner:
She loves to climb this tree:
Winter...
Her picture of the woodpecker:
Summer...
Me and my hiking partner:
She loves to climb this tree:
Winter...
Her picture of the woodpecker:
Anticlimactic...thank God
I went ot my FIRST monthly checkup with my radiation oncologist, Dr. Kottapally. Everything checked out just fine, and it was really almost a formality. He'll continue to monitor me, and he wants me to go back for a complete blood count (CBC), which will also be part of the monitoring process.
The only caveat he gave me--DON'T SKIP OR MISS APPOINTMENTS! "That is how we get ourselves into trouble," he said, sagely. (It's funny, as I type this, and the other things he says, I always hear his voice. It's very much the stereotypical English of the Indian subcontinent, and I always hear the very proper English grammar and style behind it). "You should be cancer free for the rest of your days, but if it comes back, it will be dealt with more aggressively. We simply must know as early as possible." That almost certainly means chemotherapy, and attacking it with maximum harshness and discipline.
So, I will coninue to visit Dr. Kottapally, as well as my urologist, Dr. Wenger, and they'll work in concert with me. Hopefully the future appointments will be as easy as this one.
The only caveat he gave me--DON'T SKIP OR MISS APPOINTMENTS! "That is how we get ourselves into trouble," he said, sagely. (It's funny, as I type this, and the other things he says, I always hear his voice. It's very much the stereotypical English of the Indian subcontinent, and I always hear the very proper English grammar and style behind it). "You should be cancer free for the rest of your days, but if it comes back, it will be dealt with more aggressively. We simply must know as early as possible." That almost certainly means chemotherapy, and attacking it with maximum harshness and discipline.
So, I will coninue to visit Dr. Kottapally, as well as my urologist, Dr. Wenger, and they'll work in concert with me. Hopefully the future appointments will be as easy as this one.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Still Running
I went for my longest run in a loooooooong time, with regard to both duration and distance. I covered 5.3 miles in 1 hour and 1 minute, according to my official timepiece (the clock on the wall). I realy would like to get a heart rate monitor and watch.
It was chilly this morning, but the wind wasn't blowing and it actually wasn't bad. I wore my PI AmFib gloves and they were way too warm. My hands were sweating at the end of the first mile, so I just took them off and carried them after that. I thought it was going to be more of a hassle than it was. I wore the t-shirt, I slept in (cotton is NOT a good choice for this kind of run. It holds all of your sweat, and holds it close to the body. It wasn't bad on the run, but the cool-down was a little chilly) and two long sleeved workout shirts. On top of that, I threw on my shell (a rough term for the wind-breaker-like jacket I wear that neither breaks the wind nor provides a shell; God bless my wife: this is my Christmas gift this year) on top of that.
I also wore my fleece headband instead of a hat...maybe next time I'll wear the wicking one. Overall, the temperature of The Running Fish was just about right. I'm still getting used to regulating this, so it's like a minor miracle when I get it right.
It's really cool to be building a base, and I want to start experimenting with some interval and speed work. I also added some stretches at the end of the run and then went for a walk with my daughter and my dog as I cooled down.
We watched the steam rising off my body as we walked...
It was chilly this morning, but the wind wasn't blowing and it actually wasn't bad. I wore my PI AmFib gloves and they were way too warm. My hands were sweating at the end of the first mile, so I just took them off and carried them after that. I thought it was going to be more of a hassle than it was. I wore the t-shirt, I slept in (cotton is NOT a good choice for this kind of run. It holds all of your sweat, and holds it close to the body. It wasn't bad on the run, but the cool-down was a little chilly) and two long sleeved workout shirts. On top of that, I threw on my shell (a rough term for the wind-breaker-like jacket I wear that neither breaks the wind nor provides a shell; God bless my wife: this is my Christmas gift this year) on top of that.
I also wore my fleece headband instead of a hat...maybe next time I'll wear the wicking one. Overall, the temperature of The Running Fish was just about right. I'm still getting used to regulating this, so it's like a minor miracle when I get it right.
It's really cool to be building a base, and I want to start experimenting with some interval and speed work. I also added some stretches at the end of the run and then went for a walk with my daughter and my dog as I cooled down.
We watched the steam rising off my body as we walked...
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Thoughts and Prayers for a Friend
I know a lot of you have enjoyed Michael's blog in the past. I read it today and could not believe what I saw. He tried to save a young man who was shot in a gang-related act of violence. My thoughts and prayers go out to him, and to the family and friends of the young man. Details are still unfolding, but you can READ ABOUT IT HERE.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Thanksgiving
Spent a lot of really good time with the family, and, clearly, not that much in front of the computer. To my friends in the cyber world, my apologies. Suffice it to say I'm convinced my priorities were spot on.
Highlights
That being said, there is really not a whole lot to report. I went visited the in-laws for the holiday. I was expecting to have blog meat of epic proportions with that single visit, yet it was pleasant, down-to-Earth and thoroughly enjoyable. Not much you can say about a holiday where everything is fine.
We also got the lights up around the house and have started preparing for my 40th birthday. We had some friends over to practice our cocktails on. The party is going to be a martini Rat-Pack style affair with close friends and family.
I played golf. It's about 60 degrees, which is unheard of in Pennsylvania in November. Even more unheard of is me shooting a 103, since I've only played 1 or 2 times a year for the past 3 years. I had my fair share of bad shots (two bunker-to-bunker shots-UGH!) but I also had some great shots. And, I was hitting my ancient 3-wood about 220 and straight...sweetness.
Highlights
That being said, there is really not a whole lot to report. I went visited the in-laws for the holiday. I was expecting to have blog meat of epic proportions with that single visit, yet it was pleasant, down-to-Earth and thoroughly enjoyable. Not much you can say about a holiday where everything is fine.
We also got the lights up around the house and have started preparing for my 40th birthday. We had some friends over to practice our cocktails on. The party is going to be a martini Rat-Pack style affair with close friends and family.
I played golf. It's about 60 degrees, which is unheard of in Pennsylvania in November. Even more unheard of is me shooting a 103, since I've only played 1 or 2 times a year for the past 3 years. I had my fair share of bad shots (two bunker-to-bunker shots-UGH!) but I also had some great shots. And, I was hitting my ancient 3-wood about 220 and straight...sweetness.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Running Again
I got out first thing this morning and went for a run a little over 4 miles. It wasn't the shuffling run I've grown accustomed to, either. It was a run in the real sense of the word, and I felt I could have easily put more miles under my belt. Reason showed up and told me to stop at that point...
Still, it was long enough as a reasonable starting point, and I'm feeling well enough to realize I'm getting better.
Still, it was long enough as a reasonable starting point, and I'm feeling well enough to realize I'm getting better.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Dash for Drew race Report
Prelude
My friend Ken arrived at my house at about 7 am dressed in his NY Yankees t-shirt. I briefly considered how rude it would be if I didn't let him in, but since he got up at 5.30 (yeesh!) to get here... We drove to Greencastle-Antrim, which is about an hour away. We got to the high school where the event was being held at about 8:05 am, which is roughly when registration was supposed begin. It was a beautiful drive down, the weather was amazing (mid-50s, sunny, bright...a great day for a race!)
When I e-mailed my friend Randy (the event organizer) the day before about his projections, he had about 450 people pre-registered and was expecting another 50-100. I'm no expert, but 500 people for a two miler in it's first year seemed like an awful lot of people, so I was really excited and happy for him. It turned out that they had given away the extra 100 packets by the time we got there (Randy apologized[!] and said, "I'll try to get you a t-shirt." I got to quote Lance and replied, "It's okay. It's not about the t-shirt.") 8:05 am. 550 people. I looked back and people were still streaming into the lot. AWESOME!
The event was extremely well organized ; I'd expect nothing less from Randy, honestly. Plenty of voluteers were around to register people, there was virtually no waiting in line (I hate that) and everyone seemed to be on the same page and know what was going on. They had maps of the course, which Ken and I looked at and were assured it would be easy to follow, with volunteers at all turns. I'll spare you the suspense: it was, and there were. We went outside, did a couple warm-ups and waited for the start.
The Race
Ken and I were at the very front inside when the race started. We agreed to run our own paces, because he's in better shape than I, and has been running more regularly. My goals were to 1) finish and 2) do it in less than 20 minutes. The horn blared and we were off! One kid REALLY took off, and he looked strong. I ran to get out of the mix and it seperated nicely. People were very respectful and there was no jostling or bouncing. Nice. I went out a little faster than I had anticipated, but I kind of had to because I was at the front of the pack. Ken was right with me.
We ran around three-quarters of the track and then out the gate and onto a cross-country-style course. It was a little wet, a little slippery, but I was careful. Ken had begun to separate, and I let him go and began to run my race. The only tough part about that was letting a Yankees fan get the better of me. Because of my initial position, I was in a position to get passed, but not to pass a lot of people. I didn't realize this or have the ability to reflect on it during the race, but it was a little disheartening to have people passing me, without much opportunity to pass others. It was just a matter of perspective, but I did not have the benefit of that perspective. It's one of the things I learned from this race, and I think it will make me stronger for my next race. We ran into the woods...
I didn't know where the halfway point was, relative to where I was on the course, and after a while my mind started asking the question, "Where exactly is the halfway point, Fish?" I wasn't hurting, exactly, but I I felt I was pushing pretty hard and wanted to guage my effort and pace myself. This was harder to do because I was used to running on pavement, and the completely unknown factor of the course offered no clues. I began to question a little bit more, when I came to an opening in the woods and there was a girl reading off times--the one mile mark! She read off the times: 7:57, 7:58, 7:59...I ran the first mile in LESS THAN EIGHT MINUTES!
I knew, based on where I was physically, I would take longer on the second mile. But I resolved to leave everything out there. I could see the turn toward the stadium track area, which would mark the conclusion of the race. We were to run around the outside of the fence, then into the stadium, onto the track and to the finish. I was starting to hurt when I got to the fence. Then I saw Randy, and he yelled, "Let's go Rob! YOU CAN DO IT!" Talk about an emotional lift; it meant the world to me. I started pushing a little more, and picked a guy I wanted to catch and pass (a younger guy, probably late teens early twenties).
We came to the entrance to the stadium and entered onto the track. He was still about ten yards ahead of me, and I had about 300 yards to catch him. I began picking it up again and was two steps behind him when I felt someone coming around my right shoulder. We went three wide on the final turn, 100 yards to go, and I knew what was going to happen next. My sprinting instincts kicked in and the adrenaline rush was on. I left them both.
More importantly, I completed my first event as a cancer survivor. And, I did it in the name of my friend's son, Drew Michael Taylor.
Final time: 16:39
Postlude
Ken and I went to change so we could play a round of golf after the race. In the locker room, there was posted an opportunity for students to come out to train for the Dash for Drew, to get in shape, and to run a race. I thought it was totally cool, and just the kind of thing Randy would do.
My friend Ken arrived at my house at about 7 am dressed in his NY Yankees t-shirt. I briefly considered how rude it would be if I didn't let him in, but since he got up at 5.30 (yeesh!) to get here... We drove to Greencastle-Antrim, which is about an hour away. We got to the high school where the event was being held at about 8:05 am, which is roughly when registration was supposed begin. It was a beautiful drive down, the weather was amazing (mid-50s, sunny, bright...a great day for a race!)
When I e-mailed my friend Randy (the event organizer) the day before about his projections, he had about 450 people pre-registered and was expecting another 50-100. I'm no expert, but 500 people for a two miler in it's first year seemed like an awful lot of people, so I was really excited and happy for him. It turned out that they had given away the extra 100 packets by the time we got there (Randy apologized[!] and said, "I'll try to get you a t-shirt." I got to quote Lance and replied, "It's okay. It's not about the t-shirt.") 8:05 am. 550 people. I looked back and people were still streaming into the lot. AWESOME!
The event was extremely well organized ; I'd expect nothing less from Randy, honestly. Plenty of voluteers were around to register people, there was virtually no waiting in line (I hate that) and everyone seemed to be on the same page and know what was going on. They had maps of the course, which Ken and I looked at and were assured it would be easy to follow, with volunteers at all turns. I'll spare you the suspense: it was, and there were. We went outside, did a couple warm-ups and waited for the start.
The Race
Ken and I were at the very front inside when the race started. We agreed to run our own paces, because he's in better shape than I, and has been running more regularly. My goals were to 1) finish and 2) do it in less than 20 minutes. The horn blared and we were off! One kid REALLY took off, and he looked strong. I ran to get out of the mix and it seperated nicely. People were very respectful and there was no jostling or bouncing. Nice. I went out a little faster than I had anticipated, but I kind of had to because I was at the front of the pack. Ken was right with me.
We ran around three-quarters of the track and then out the gate and onto a cross-country-style course. It was a little wet, a little slippery, but I was careful. Ken had begun to separate, and I let him go and began to run my race. The only tough part about that was letting a Yankees fan get the better of me. Because of my initial position, I was in a position to get passed, but not to pass a lot of people. I didn't realize this or have the ability to reflect on it during the race, but it was a little disheartening to have people passing me, without much opportunity to pass others. It was just a matter of perspective, but I did not have the benefit of that perspective. It's one of the things I learned from this race, and I think it will make me stronger for my next race. We ran into the woods...
I didn't know where the halfway point was, relative to where I was on the course, and after a while my mind started asking the question, "Where exactly is the halfway point, Fish?" I wasn't hurting, exactly, but I I felt I was pushing pretty hard and wanted to guage my effort and pace myself. This was harder to do because I was used to running on pavement, and the completely unknown factor of the course offered no clues. I began to question a little bit more, when I came to an opening in the woods and there was a girl reading off times--the one mile mark! She read off the times: 7:57, 7:58, 7:59...I ran the first mile in LESS THAN EIGHT MINUTES!
I knew, based on where I was physically, I would take longer on the second mile. But I resolved to leave everything out there. I could see the turn toward the stadium track area, which would mark the conclusion of the race. We were to run around the outside of the fence, then into the stadium, onto the track and to the finish. I was starting to hurt when I got to the fence. Then I saw Randy, and he yelled, "Let's go Rob! YOU CAN DO IT!" Talk about an emotional lift; it meant the world to me. I started pushing a little more, and picked a guy I wanted to catch and pass (a younger guy, probably late teens early twenties).
We came to the entrance to the stadium and entered onto the track. He was still about ten yards ahead of me, and I had about 300 yards to catch him. I began picking it up again and was two steps behind him when I felt someone coming around my right shoulder. We went three wide on the final turn, 100 yards to go, and I knew what was going to happen next. My sprinting instincts kicked in and the adrenaline rush was on. I left them both.
More importantly, I completed my first event as a cancer survivor. And, I did it in the name of my friend's son, Drew Michael Taylor.
Final time: 16:39
Postlude
Ken and I went to change so we could play a round of golf after the race. In the locker room, there was posted an opportunity for students to come out to train for the Dash for Drew, to get in shape, and to run a race. I thought it was totally cool, and just the kind of thing Randy would do.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Going to Race!
I am going to race! Not a big one--it's a two mile charity race in the memory of my friend's son. The Dash for Drew is to raise money for the Drew Michael Taylor Foundation, started to help underpriveleged kids grow their minds, bodies and souls.
I was questioning whether or not to do this. After all I've been through, I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish. But, I ran a couple times this week and I'm pretty certain I can complete it. It's a place to start, and I'll be proud to race in Drew's memory. I'm going to go for it.
Final note: One of the most powerful things I EVER heard was Randy's eulogy for his son.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
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