June 2009
Hi Folks!
What do you think of when you hear the word "simplify"? Being an extremist, I am immediately transported to a vagabond-type existence where all I need I am carrying on my back. My sort of vagabonding wouldn't be the just-dropped-out-of-society type with which we, as Santa Cruz County folk, are all too familiar. I'd have a plan. I'd take showers. Even the dog I'd partner up with would be shampooed regularly. In a perfect world, this is how I'd like to pass my years.
But I am a realist and understand that such extreme simplification is probably not logical. Not now anyhow. Nonetheless, I am constantly driven by a need to meet it in the middle. And as with anything, compromise is meant to be challenging. So where's my balance? What do I do? Well, I run.
I take a run for the same reasons you go on vacation. Except, my run is significantly shorter than a trip to Europe. And cheaper. The point is that my run recharges my batteries and readies me for real life, just around the bend. I think my best thoughts on a run. Come up with my best ideas. Compose newsletter articles or letters to friends. I may even spend the time reflecting on random memories as I crank out the miles.
In fact, on a recent long run in Nisene Marks an otherwise forgotten memory popped into my mind for an unknown reason. While backpacking on an island in southern Baja California, I awoke earlier than usual to the morning sun burning my face. It was my birthday. I think I was turning 26 or so. I sat up in my sleeping bag and rubbed my eyes. I noticed a large conch shell sitting to the side of my bedroll. I picked it up to check it out. It was white and pink and covered in red barnacles. As I felt its weight in my hands, my best friend came over the lip of a sand dune and wished me a happy birthday. Apparently he'd found the shell in the surf that morning.
Simplification removes the clutter from our lives and makes room for an appreciation of the moment - sometimes a moment from our past. Make sure you are doing this. Our days aren't disposable.
I may never embark on a walk across America. But I may get a dog one day anyhow.
To Your Health!
tom
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
May 2009
Hi All.
I've just finished reading a great "retro" running book titled Dr. Sheehan On Running by author Dr. George Sheehan. Honestly I'm not sure if it's still in print, but I'll tell you what, it ought to be.
Dr. Sheehan wrote this book in 1975 when running as a sport was still quite raw. Runners in that era ran hundreds of miles per week for no particular reason. They ran in cut-off blue jeans and didn't worry about chafing. When their shoes bottomed out they re-lined them with cardboard and built up the tread with shoe goo and duct tape. Electrolytes may have been spoken of in medical journals but water stops consisted of a warm water swig from a neighbor's hose or a palm-full of creek water.
Running was simple. You just threw on your shoes and went. You ran on roads or on trails. It didn't matter. You did it because you enjoyed it. In fact, you loved it. And you loved the people who did it with you.
Dr. Sheehan speaks of a time when being pelted by things thrown from passing cars was normal. A time when people looked at you as if you were crazy for running in the first place. Running wasn't widely accepted, in fact it was seen as going against the grain. Breaking the rules of society. Anarchy afoot!
Runners back then battled in the trenches together. They bled for the opportunity to get a good 10-miler in before work. They nodded to each other under the brims of their caps with the silent understanding that they were bonded, not merely as people but as runners. Back then it was a secret club without a membership. They were as obscure as their strange sport.
I can't say that anyone's ever hurled fruit at me out a car window, or cussed at me for striding through their neighborhood. Nobody's ever singled me out and made me feel uncomfortable for getting a good workout in as the day begins. If anything, I get occasional whistles and honks which effect me like generic applause does during a race. It motivates me.
Honestly, the only attitudes I encounter while running are from fellow runners. I tend to wave or say hi to folks as we run past each other. I know they hear me, yet sometimes I get shined and wonder why my benign greeting went unacknowledged. Are they so wrapped up in their training that they can't return my gesture? I don't get it. Where's the love that founded this sport in the first place?
We certainly have come a long way since 1975, that's for sure. But I'm left to wonder if Dr. Sheehan would be happy with the results. Most certainly he'd laugh at how serious the sport has become even to us hobbyists. Too serious for a wave? Now that's just plain silly.
It takes a second to share a moment. Make sure you take one. I promise it won't ruin your upcoming race.
To Your Health!
tom
I've just finished reading a great "retro" running book titled Dr. Sheehan On Running by author Dr. George Sheehan. Honestly I'm not sure if it's still in print, but I'll tell you what, it ought to be.
Dr. Sheehan wrote this book in 1975 when running as a sport was still quite raw. Runners in that era ran hundreds of miles per week for no particular reason. They ran in cut-off blue jeans and didn't worry about chafing. When their shoes bottomed out they re-lined them with cardboard and built up the tread with shoe goo and duct tape. Electrolytes may have been spoken of in medical journals but water stops consisted of a warm water swig from a neighbor's hose or a palm-full of creek water.
Running was simple. You just threw on your shoes and went. You ran on roads or on trails. It didn't matter. You did it because you enjoyed it. In fact, you loved it. And you loved the people who did it with you.
Dr. Sheehan speaks of a time when being pelted by things thrown from passing cars was normal. A time when people looked at you as if you were crazy for running in the first place. Running wasn't widely accepted, in fact it was seen as going against the grain. Breaking the rules of society. Anarchy afoot!
Runners back then battled in the trenches together. They bled for the opportunity to get a good 10-miler in before work. They nodded to each other under the brims of their caps with the silent understanding that they were bonded, not merely as people but as runners. Back then it was a secret club without a membership. They were as obscure as their strange sport.
I can't say that anyone's ever hurled fruit at me out a car window, or cussed at me for striding through their neighborhood. Nobody's ever singled me out and made me feel uncomfortable for getting a good workout in as the day begins. If anything, I get occasional whistles and honks which effect me like generic applause does during a race. It motivates me.
Honestly, the only attitudes I encounter while running are from fellow runners. I tend to wave or say hi to folks as we run past each other. I know they hear me, yet sometimes I get shined and wonder why my benign greeting went unacknowledged. Are they so wrapped up in their training that they can't return my gesture? I don't get it. Where's the love that founded this sport in the first place?
We certainly have come a long way since 1975, that's for sure. But I'm left to wonder if Dr. Sheehan would be happy with the results. Most certainly he'd laugh at how serious the sport has become even to us hobbyists. Too serious for a wave? Now that's just plain silly.
It takes a second to share a moment. Make sure you take one. I promise it won't ruin your upcoming race.
To Your Health!
tom
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