Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Boston's aftermath


Warning: This post has no intrinsic connection to running other than it was planted by the Boston Marathon tragedy and germinated on a series of runs last week. This is my attempt to sort through some current issues weighing on my mind; a father wondering what kind of world my daughter will grow up in. Its only an opinion and I could be wrong.

When news reached me of the bombings at Copley square, my reaction was probably similar to most: horror that these cowards would pick such a soft target. Dreams that were built by blood, sweat and tears coming true before our eyes...only to be knocked down in an instant by the ultimately inscrutable aims of a madman.

It makes me so angry: the needless suffering, the collective trauma, the fact that someone could feel so alone, so disconnected from their fellow men to justify these acts in their head. And you can't go to a movie, school or run a marathon without the possibility (however small) in the back of your mind that some psycho could be out there in the crowd. But what saddens me the most is our predictable response to events like this.

A crazy guy shoots up a school, movie theater, or bombs a crowd and we look to big brother for answers and to feel safe. Those with power feel compelled to do something, anything that could minimize the chances of it happening again, or at least create the illusion that it will never happen again. Legislators feel pressured to pass new laws. The executive branch looks at how to interpret existing laws to expand its power.

What did we witness last week? Police officers dressed and armed like the military, rolling by homes in tanks. An entire city in lock-down. Miranda rights withheld from the suspect. Some legislators even call for the suspect to be treated as an enemy combatant- essentially a conviction without trail of a U.S. citizen - and they are taken seriously. And the media (as a whole) was not much better. We had people falsely identified as suspects and rampant speculation that unfolded like a reality TV show. If this is in reaction to a relatively minor attack, what will be our response when (and it is a matter of when) we face another attack of the magnitude of 911 or the OKC bombings? I shutter to think of what will be justified in the name of public safety.

This is where I draw my line in the sand: I DON'T want my daughter to live in a country that is more secure from the bad guys if it means we must sacrifice some of her freedom to do so. I don't want it because this kind of "safety" is ultimately an illusion anyway. The more we swat the wasp, the more aggravated it will become.

Do we simply acquiesce to the terrorists? Hell no. I'm all for having calm, rational discussions about public safety and the constitution. But these discussions need to be separated from events that evoke such visceral responses. My wife and I won't make important family decisions in the midst of an argument; that would be stupid. Nor should we allow those in power to bend the rules in times of duress so we can feel safer. There's a process in place and we need to follow it. Sometimes that process moves slower than we would like but that prevents us from making decision we'd later regret. Remember how collective anger and confusion led our country on some dark paths in the wake of 911.

Maybe we could actually minimize the damage done by a future Adam Lanza or Tamerlan Tsarnaev  by tweaking some rules without a great cost to personal liberty, but I suspect that new soft targets and loopholes will be found by the people with the proper motivation to kill. If these things are an inevitable part of our future, how do we, both as a nation and as individuals, respond?


Fortunately, we have people like Adrianne Haslet-Davis to show us the way. She lost her foot in the bombing. Read her story here. She's been through hell and still has a long road ahead of her. I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to wake up and realize your leg is no longer there. What is amazing how she has chosen to respond. I can think of nothing that says "f__k you" to those murders more than her resolve to continue to dance and run the Boston marathon. In the face of evil, you stand your ground and resist the urge to respond in kind.



Adrianne for President

Monday, April 22, 2013

Happy Earth Day!


Earth Day usually falls under my radar, but this year I made a point to do something to celebrate. Maybe its because there have been too many reminders lately of the fragility of all life.

I pedaled to an old boat ramp, found a rock to sit on...and did absolutely nothing for about fifteen minutes. Then I realized how rare it is when I'm outdoors and not moving somewhere. Eventually my mind let go of the pointless chatter of the past and future and settled into the landscape. I won't tell you what happened... that's our secret. But it was amazing, and is there for anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear.

Find your place(s). Give thanks that you are able to enjoy it and do what you can to protect it from harm.




Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Fairfield Bay, Arkansas

We took a short family trip last weekend to a lake resort in Fairfield Bay, Arkansas. It snowed on Thursday night, and a thin blanket covered everything in morning. Miles and miles of gravel roads, fire roads in the woods and a few short single track trails - all to myself. I wouldn't call this corner of the Ozarks mountainous, but there are some big hills with long, steep climbs.

First it was a slippery trail out to Indian Falls.



Then I ran down to Greers Ferry Lake. That's the majestic Sugar Loaf mountain veiled in the clouds. Sugar Loaf stands as an island in the middle of the lake, and with it volcanic shape, looks like it belongs in the South pacific. Apparently there is a ferry that can take you out to the trail-head that leads to the summit.




Piney woods are good for the soul.


And a piney beer for the recovery.

Cheers!

Monday, March 25, 2013

3h Snake report (3/16/13)

Photo by beyondordinarylifeok.com
The Snake 3 hour found me a bit under-prepared, typical for my first race of the year. I missed two key long runs in the build up, thanks to a cold and a new subscription to Netflix. The plan was to go slow and steady; a nice training run for the OKC Marathon next month.

Yeah, right. I don't possess that kind of discipline on race day. Adrenaline is a powerful drug, and it doesn't help that your constantly passing or being passed by someone, ever aware of where you stand in relation to those immediately in front of and behind you.  I finished each of the first out and backs (4.2 miles) in around 38 minutes.  And then the inevitable; about a mile into the fourth, the legs began to protest...loudly. On the return they simply gave out. After that it was waddle like a turtle. It took 46 minutes to finish the the fourth and final loop of the Snake trail. Then it was off to the half mile loop with 17 minutes left. The first loop was just pathetic; my right ham muscle cramped up, forcing me to sit down on the side of the trail for a few minutes. The second go around was better, but I finished with three minutes on the clock, not enough time to get another one in even on a good day. 17.8 total.

Could I have run smarter? Sure. But I'm not convinced that starting out slow would have saved that much energy for a strong finish. I suspect that my legs would've given out before the end simply due to the lack of cumulative time spent on my feet since Christmas. I seem to need an early race like this one to kick my ass in to gear and to start taking training seriously.

One thing I'm sure of: six hours of that trail sounds dreadful. My hat goes to those with the mental fortitude to stick it out that day.


Prairie Artisan Ale's 'Merica for the recovery. This farmhouse ale is springtime in a bottle. A single malt and single hop; deceptively simple ingredients for such a flavorful beer. Smells like fresh cut grass and earth. Tastes even better: earthy, grassy and citrusy hops, a bit of fruity tartness, with a spicy and dry finish.










Friday, March 1, 2013

In the shadow


The sun passes behind the ridge
and the vale is overwhelmed in shadow.

A path leads up to woods aflame,
promising warmth and golden vistas.
A path leads down 
into the cold and gathering gloom.

I take the lower path,
for the shadow promises nothing,
asks nothing,
and allows me to disappear 
for a while.