Archive for the ‘Exercise’ Category

Cranking it up a notch

Friday, June 2nd, 2006

The weather has fouled up my cycling opportunities the past few days, so I put in half an hour on the stationery bike this morning. I haven’t figured out a way to take the boredom out of doing that.

The Band Festival poster that was printed yesterday was unveiled at the Rotary Club meeting today. I didn’t make any remarks, but received plenty of recognition from the podium. The spotlight was on the featured artist, as it should have been, and Paul’s address to the club was down-to-earth, humorous, and sincere. As I may have previously mentioned, I’ve put in a request to be considered for providing next year’s featured art.

Various & Sundry, part thirty-nine

Thursday, June 1st, 2006

— Month of May workout totals: Swim-2; Bike-5; Run-5; Lift-5; Yoga-9

— The Graybeard Prospector and his Medicine Woman ventured back into the administrative sanctum of the local health care system earlier this morning, making their forceful case for a revivified working relationship.

— I traveled to Louisville today with my colleague Paul to approve the press settings for the Great American Brass Band Festival poster. He came along as the featured artist, and I wanted to make sure he was satisfied with the reproduction of his painting, “Brassy Razzmatazz.” We’ve known and admired each other for a number of years, but it’s another level of personal rapport when you get to spend three to four hours talking together during a car trip. The wildest part took place on the way back, when we were caught in a severe electrical hail storm. Visibility dropped to virtually zero when maximum wiper speed failed to help, and it was all I could do to creep down the next exit ramp, praying to escape any danger. It was the worst weather I’ve ever negotiated behind the wheel, enough for two men to confess to a state of utter terror, after we’d struggled successfully to find a safe place to wait it out.

— Over the holiday, while Dana was visiting Bruce, I decided to dig out my copy of a movie I haven’t watched in a long time—“Nothing in Common.” I can report that I found it just as enjoyable as ever. Now that it’s been twenty years since it was made, the music and styles firmly peg it as an 80s period piece, but that only adds to its enduring charm. You don’t have to be a huge fan of Hanks (which I’m not) to be thoroughly entertained by this flick, which offers a full spectrum of moods and creative attributes. It’s hilarious, sexy, witty, insightful, thought-provoking, sad, and comforting. Flaws are there, if you want to pick at it, but it’s remarkably well-paced and so loaded with talent that you wonder why Hanks hasn’t done more ensemble pictures like this. The setting seems tailor-made for my individual pleasure. If you’ve never seen it, you’ve missed a real treat. Tom plays a 30-ish hot-shot creative director at a Chicago ad agency run by Hector Elizondo, but his up-and-coming career collides with a family crisis when his parents (Eva Marie Saint and Jackie Gleason) abruptly split. Saint’s characterization is delivered with absolute freshness and total believability. Reardless of what you might think of Gleason, “The Great One” will surely captivate anyone with this final performance, a masterful blend of comedy and tragedy, and a fitting swan song for the awesomely talented and complex personality. Now add to that a group of superb supporting players—Sela Ward, Barry Corbin, Bess Armstrong, John Kapelos, and Dan Castellaneta (who would go on to create the familiar voice of Homer Simpson). But make no mistake, the motion picture is anchored by the versatile Hanks at his most physically attractive juncture and by how he takes the viewer on an emotional journey under the able direction of Garry Marshall. When you combine this movie with “Big” and “Turner & Hooch,” it forms the pinnacle of the opening chapter in the astonishing tenure of a true Hollywood Star.

V & S

Uncle Art must have known about these things

Sunday, May 28th, 2006

The discipline of aikido is known as a “soft” martial art, but during my period of training it became clear that the defensive moves were ineffective if executed without a certain vigor. On the other hand, an application of too much energy was counterproductive, impeding the ability to flow with the attack. The practitioner was at risk if he became the aggressor. However, by contrast, the dispatch with which one hopes to end an encounter is clearly not the finality of becoming a victim, and that necessitates learning how to find the proper way to redirect incoming force. There are times when you must step directly into the face of an assault to protect yourself. Much of my emphasis during that time of study was overcoming a natural inhibition to act, but with just the right amount of decisiveness. It didn’t come easy. It required focus, relaxation, timing, and fearlessness.

An even less competitive practice is yoga. If one seeks to “win” yoga, it immediately becomes something else. Nevertheless, most, if not all, yoga postures lose their essential value if one “wimps out.” But what’s the difference between pushing too hard and “surrendering” into the pose? Where is that elusive intermediate ground that exists between mere athleticism and withdrawing from the challenge.

People are surprised to learn that I haven’t cut my grass with a gas-engine mower for two or three years. I guess it’s been since my Uncle Art died. He gave me his Craftsman rotary push mower when he moved away from his house on Fernwood. He’d gotten away from relying on it when he wasn’t physically up to it anymore. I didn’t dedicate myself to using it until after he died. I don’t know how old the darn thing is, but I think he used it for a long time. Because I considered myself a “townie” like Uncle Art, and our yards were about the same size, I figured I would give it a try—as a quiet way to honor his memory.

Some things are easier than they look. Using Uncle Art’s lawn mower is not one of them. It’s tough. Or I should say it’s tough to use it well—in other words, to cut grass. It’s easy to push it very slow, but nothing much happens, and it’s not difficult to push it very fast, but the blades spin too rapidly to cut. I’ve learned that I have to find just the right inertia to get it to “bite.” The challenge is that this proper biting speed requires the most stamina. You don’t have to understand mechanics to know it must have something to to with the physics of “work.” Now I know one of the ways Uncle Art stayed trim and avoided the Seitz roundbelly. Undoubtedly, I need to sharpen the blades, but I know that same “middle way” phenomenon is there to experience in human-powered lawn mowing, too.

And the more I look around me or examine my personal challenges, the “middle way” and its mysteries keep perplexing me. How do people master it? How does the Indy-car driver learn the margin between being passed and hitting the wall or blowing an engine? How does the salesman find the sweet spot between an off-putting overconfidence and the telltale signs of desperation? Would my son Bruce have lost his life last year if he hadn’t achieved the rare zone between fighting and giving up? I once had a young cyclist observe the way I was hitting my brakes on a downhill curve, and he said later, “Just remember—speed is your friend.” Hmm. The way I’d heard it, “Speed kills.”

Eager or patient? Audacious or cautious? Assertive or receptive?

Seize the day, by God.

        — or —

Let go and let God?

Somewhere in between, lad. Somewhere in between.

Tales of the Graybeard Prospector XIV

Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

• As I mull over my current circumstances, “dire situation” is a phrase I hesitate to use, but it’s probably as accurate as any. That hit home tonight when I realized the graybeard was shamelessly prospecting during his traditional Wednesday evening bicycle ride.

Sorta sad, eh?

graybeard prospector

Yes, I’d name a few counties after him, too

Sunday, May 21st, 2006

When the alarm went off I could smell that the air (coming gently through the narrowly cracked window beside my head) was perfect for an early ride, and I met my chums at the bike shop before 7:30. It was just a bit nippy for May, but I was dressed appropriately, having poorly overcompensated on yesterday’s run. We completed 32 miles through Mercer County and back, and the only problem we had was blundering into a long stretch of chewed-off road surface near the Beaumont Inn.

Mombo is native to another beautiful county named Mercer, in Ohio. I got to thinking that I’ve never known anything about this Mercer namesake, so, since I’ve been thoroughly “Google-ized” over the past couple years, I checked it out. As usual, it didn’t take long to determine that both counties, like many in other states, including Pennsylvania and Illinois, were named after Dr. Hugh Mercer, Revolutionary War commander and physician who fled Scotland as a refugee after serving as an assistant surgeon at Culloden. He distinguished himself in America as a patriot, and, after Washington promoted him to Brigadier General, gave his life for his adopted homeland in 1777—

At the battle of Princeton, while leading the vanguard of the Americans, his horse was shot under him, and he was compelled to continue the contest on foot. He was surrounded by British officers, who ordered him to surrender. Drawing his sword, he was finally beaten to the ground with muskets and his body pierced with bayonet thrusts. With five wounds in his body and two in his head, he was left for dead on the field. He was carried to a neighboring house. When Washington heard of the fate of his old friend, he sent his nephew, Major Lewis, to watch over the final moments of the dying hero.

This was the price paid for my pleasant life… riding my bike like a carefree boy on a Sunday morning. This was the price paid by the countless souls who bought my freedom with their most precious coin—life itself.

Double Graduation, Good Vibrations

Saturday, May 13th, 2006

I wasn’t able to spend last night working on my two “Photorama” collages for the Clan graduates, since we spent the evening with the Simpsons watching “Out of Africa.” It forced me to complete the gifts today, but everything worked out fine. After an eight-mile morning run, I was able to focus on my intuitive sprint to the family deadline—an ideal circumstance for creating this particular type of artwork—as well as getting to savor one of the only flawless motion pictures made in the past 25 years.

25 years… that’s Brendan’s lifetime, and includes the lifetimes of all the Clan youngsters present at our celebration for Nicholas and Caitlan. And speaking of Brendan, I got to see him in action with his new camera, an impressive piece of equipment. As I shot with my vintage Nikkormat, I felt like a geezer driving around in a dusty old coupe. Ah well, at least I didn’t say, “No, sirree-Bob, they don’t make ’em like this anymore.”

It was fun to eat good Chinese food with Nic and Josh and Marty, too. Nic was having a great day, one that will last long in the memory bank. I wish my Godson well as he prepares to begin his studies in veterinary medicine. I really didn’t get to chat with Oxford-bound Caitlan, but, actually, I really didn’t get to talk to many of the others either, including my mom, but that didn’t stop me from simply absorbing the magnitude of the good family vibes, before it was all over much too quickly.

Various & Sundry, part thirty-eight

Thursday, May 4th, 2006

— Last night I did the 30-miler to Stanford and back and felt strong. Back in July of 2005 I did that same ride and I was burnt toast by the time I got home. This is called progress. As a result, my legs felt a bit spent in the pool today, but I almost broke my 300-yard record time anyway. If had the buckers, I’d locate a challenging summer triathlon and go for it. “My favorite thing that makes me happy is… money.” Tell that to the Graybeard Prospector.

— If you can believe Zogby, 20% of 18-24-year-olds think that Germany was our ally in the second World War, and 52% could not name the American president who fought it. OK, the only solution is to produce a new WWII movie blockbuster that drills it into their heads. Here’s the cast—Dennis Quaid as FDR, Hilary Swank as Eleanor, Ed Harris as Ike, Paul Giamatti as Truman, Tim Robbins as MacArthur, Pete Postlethwaite as Montgomery, Ethan Hawke as Ernie Pyle, and Michael Gambon as Winston Churchill. Top that! I know, I know… lots of big battle scenes and pre-deployment consummations.

— I’m starting to see indications of blogging backlash, and maybe you’ve seen the same thing or—Heavens, no!—are part of the lash. Well, if you have any doubts about how constructive blogging can be, check out the way Dr. Weston has integrated it into his teaching at Gruntled Center.

— I had my second meeting with Wilma today and it looks like my having a one-man show at Danville’s Community Arts Center in 2007 is nearly a “done deal.” Stay tuned…

— Take the “Which Superhero are you?” quiz. I am ROBIN!

— BCA got a digital camera for his birthday present. Look out—the torch has passed. I didn’t go to his party. I figured I’d be too intimidated by all the celebrities.

V & S

Various & Sundry, part thirty-seven

Monday, May 1st, 2006

— Month of April workout totals: Swim-4; Bike-6; Run-3; Lift-6; Yoga-7

— We stopped out at the park to watch some of Hayley’s varsity softball game, but she wasn’t having a very good night on the field or at the plate. Cliff and I talked about business. Dana and I needed to leave after a few innings, and Hayley’s team was winning, but it was my hope she’d have a much better j-v game.

— I had to do my utmost to tactfully resist the mushrooming of my Brass Band Festival involvement. It was necessary to remind others why donating creative time is worthwhile to our studio—an opportunity to represent our best ideas to the community. One shouldn’t need to explain that we volunteer for reasons that go beyond the goodness of our hearts, and that the mutual benefit doesn’t work if we end up executing production services for the featured artist.

— Seems like my old chum Scott V and I only touch base this time of year, during our shared birthday season, but nothing wrong with that. A life-long athlete, he’s recovering from disc surgery on his neck and is eager to be back to normal. His goal is to return to the ball diamond as soon as he can. In a month he plans to go fishing in Canada with his Dad and four of his brothers. Sounds like a great getaway—no phones, no TV, with just cold water in the cabins. Dadbo always talked about taking the Dixon brothers on a trip to the “North Woods,” but it never happened. I’m happy to learn Scott is getting to do it, although it makes me sad at the same time.

V & S

Various & Sundry, part thirty-six

Saturday, April 29th, 2006

— It was a small group of local runners this morning, due to the Derby Festival in Louisville. I’m sure most of them were competing in the 13.1-miler, but my pals Don and Larry were doing the full Marathon. Mort and I did ten miles at a comfortable enough pace to talk the whole time, covering a range of subjects from mentorship, aging, rail trails, grassroots activism, minority politics, and the separation of church and state, which was a great way to start a birthday. After I got home, Lee stopped by to present her gift—a copy of The Emerald Book, which she found in her grandmother’s attic. It’s troubling to think it wasn’t so long ago that third and fourth graders were reading the poems of Shakespeare, Stevenson, Kipling, Tennyson, Coleridge, Hawthorne, Riley, and Emerson. It also contains reproductions of works by painters like Hals and Carpaccio, with short lessons in art appreciation. What happened to the idea of children having the imaginative freedom to be kids while they simultaneously advance on a gradient apprenticeship to adult culture? Instead, we have a glut of twenty-something adolescents attempting to understand the roots of Western Thought by watching a Brad Pitt movie, as primary schoolers learn that “fuck” can be either a verb, noun, or interjection. Does anyone know how we let this happen?

— Although we had a good turnout at our banquet Thursday evening, most of our strong Centre College supporters were absent because, unfortunately, we were competing with the appearance of Helen Thomas as part of their Press Distinguished Lecture Series. Not surprisingly, the veteran White House correspondent directed her criticism at the president, suggesting he follow the advice given to LBJ during Viet Nam and “Declare a victory and leave”. Please pay closer attention, Helen—that’s what our enemies may already be in the process of doing. Jordanian Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, in a desperate attempt to impede the steady rise of Iraqi democracy, revealed his appearance in a recent propaganda video. In another tape, Egyptian Ayman al-Zawahri pleaded impotently with Muslims to oppose our Arab allies, and he declared that militants have “broken the back” of the U.S.-led effort. In the face of such frantic attempts on the part of Al-Qaida to remain relevant in Iraq, now is not the time to abandon the fledgling coalition government.

— Terie and Marty came over for either a late lunch or an early dinner—not sure which—with berry pie and ice cream (I don’t do cake on April 29th, thank you). Marty described his new pc game, Rome: Total War, and we watched a classic M:I episode, “The System” (we used to call it “Johnny Costa” back in the 60s) while Dana and Terie finished the tuna melts, keeping an eye on the NFL draft at the same time. I’d already received my gifts of a wristwatch and set of Koh-I-Noor Nexis art pens from Dana. Terie and Marty surprised me with a Serenity DVD. Well, maybe my home is not a hotbed of high culture, but who can find fault with a full day of pleasurable cooleosity?

— Ok, it’s 54. Happy Birthday to me.

V & S

KBBC retreat—day one

Wednesday, April 26th, 2006

I’d personally taken the lead on most of the preparations for the Bicycle Commission’s face-to-face meeting (venue, schedule, meals, recreation), but the one thing I can’t control is the weather. If we’d gotten rain today, my heart might’ve broken, but, fortunately, the dismal sky held its moisture during my planned 15-miler. It was quite cool for the season, but no wind. I thought the Mercer County landscape was pretty, even with the cloudy sky. The sun finally peeked out for a spell after everyone was back and packed up for dinner—a bit of salt in my wound—but I really can’t complain. The day has gone well, and I really like these people…

A stunning April weekend; I want more

Sunday, April 23rd, 2006

Call me a glutton for you-know-what, but I organized a 35-miler with Dan and Bill today, laying out the route that I’ll use when I take the Bicycle Commission on its outing this Wednesday. I still had enough energy to cut my lawn when I got home, using Uncle Art’s old rotary push mower. I don’t know exactly what it is, but this two-day burst of physical exertion has swept away my unpleasant Friday Funk…

Another Big Five-Oh

Saturday, April 22nd, 2006

Today I was astonished when my spirits were boosted immeasurably by participating in the 50-mile “Running Saint” achievement of my friends Milton S and Jim M. I joined their run/walk pace for ten and half miles and then rode my mountain bike back out later in the day and added another nine miles on foot. I was so caught up in supporting their effort that I forgot about anything else. It brought back all of the perceptions of my own “50-on-50th” milestone.

All I can think to do is to publish my 2002 journal entry that describes it:

— — —

On Mother’s Day we took Mombo to the brass band concert at the bandstand in the courthouse park. It was nice— just like something that would’ve happened 50 years ago… or, more likely, 150 years ago. There are times when it’s a true joy to live small-town life to the fullest. It was a great day that started early. A few of us gathered to "share silence" at the cabin studio of my friend Mack, a surgeon, artist, sculptor, saxophonist, rock-fence builder, etc., etc. He’s just one of the superb people I’ve gotten to know since I’ve lived in Danville.

Now that I’m thinking of my good friends, I should proceed to bring this journal up to date concerning my landmark birthday run: Monday, 29 April 2002. How do I begin to tell the story of that day? So full of great experiences and memories of true friendship. More details in a moment… Let me first say that I was successful in meeting my self-challenge. I ran to the 50k mark (31 miles), and then I mostly walked to the end of my carefully planned 50-mile course. What a day to remember! 80.6 kilometers of forward momentum. The fulfillment of months of training, and one more isolated validation of Phil Maffetone’s fitness method

The Saturday before, the 27th, Dana threw a birthday celebration for me, held at the “Grayson’s Tavern” of Constitution Square Historic Site in Danville. Most of my fitness companions, plus Clan, and a few longtime friends were there, and it was a success, too. Meg H, a major inspiration to me with my collage work, was there with husband Bob H, who took the legendary Grandy-bo "Bibs Portrait." Deb S and Bob B even drove down beyond the "dark and bloody river" during a storm, as did others, including Darby H and Uncle Art. My mom was clearly happy to be with her brother, who had just gotten through a life-threatening crisis caused by a serious seizure. Heavy rain cut attendance at the afternoon “open house” exhibition of my hand-crafted greeting cards. By evening, conditions were dry and over 80 showed up for the party. Dana outdid herself with the many preparations. Great food (we used my “famous” salmon that was caught on 9-11-01), great music, great conversation, and a great spirit of human warmth.

Personally, it was a magical night for me, and I was totally numb to be the center of attention. Everybody seemed to get a kick out of my cards. Two beers all night, but I was happier than if I’d drunk a dozen. Blew out the candles on the cake, took a goofy bow, and the whole sweet thing was over much too fast. I was so overwhelmed by it all that I realized later I’d missed a rare "Uncle Clarence Moment" to thank everyone for coming. I’ll have to trust they saw the appreciation in my eyes. There were many who could not be there in person, but certainly in spirit.

After a Sunday of good-byes to out-of-towners, exhibit documentation, and final cleanup at the Tavern, I managed to drive my impending 50-mile course — as the sun was trading places with a full moon — to distribute some hidden water bottles and Gatorade. And then it was on to bed, but I didn’t sleep that well… too nervous about the day to come.

The next day, my actual birthday, was a unique day in my life, is difficult to explain, and, of course, there’s probably no logical way to justify what I did. I started out at 5:45 am and began to run my course (with a cell phone to keep Dana aware, so she could communicate with friends). Two running pals were there to start out with me. Jeff T the banker ran the first two miles, but had to return to prepare for his work day. When I got out to my sister Jeanne’s house, Clansman Cliff had only one word for me— “SURVIVE!” Joni M (track coach, lawyer’s wife, and mother of three running sons) headed back to town at that point, and I continued out into the country, where I met up with Sarah H (CPA, doctor’s wife, and another mother of three running sons) and Ernst C-W (generous advisor and proprietor of the local cycle shop). When we got to the Jackson farm, I ran Mack’s soggy cross-country trails and had a “pit stop” at the cabin… changed into dry shoes and socks. The air was still raw enough that I borrowed Ernst’s gloves to continue on my way.

I took a lunch-and-stretching break (at almost 20 miles) after I’d eventually looped back to the Town House. I had some of Dana’s therapeutic kudzu-ginger-plum soup. It was nothing short of astounding when she brought in the mail and I’d gotten a postcard from Japan, wishing me good luck and happy birthday! It was from Yu Saito, my running companion throughout 2001, who had taken his family home in early March. She said, “the cosmos is in alignment,” and it gave me a great burst of optimistic enthusiasm. I just love these synchronicities of life…

And then I took off again, running north to the little town of Burgin, near historic Shaker country. The weather was pleasantly cool now, so I was comfortable in a short-sleeve shirt. The sky was gorgeous with puffy white clouds, and the familiar cattle and horse farms were the emerald green of Kentucky springtime. More friends came out to support me. Dick B (local running guru and a “50-on-50th” veteran), ran most of our traditional 10k route with me and I finished my 50k with strength. After a short rest I began again, with 50 total miles as my new goal. Milton S (Centre College religion scholar and Zen practitioner) was there to walk 10 miles with me. Jim L (wood artisan and retired insurance man) drove out to wish me well, and Bill S (tireless volunteer and retired corporate engineer) appeared on his bike to roll along with a birthday poem! It made all the difference in my will to keep going, because my stomach was becoming upset. I mentally clung to Cliff’s quotation after the 40-mile point, where I made a "180" and knew I had only the home stretch to downtown Danville and the finish line. As one can perhaps tell, I’d been able to link most of my favorite running venues into a day-long trek. The light at the end of the tunnel was visible, but my “handlers” were now becoming vital to my effort.

Fortunately, I had few complications. Thanks to some cautionary advice from my friend Eddy M (a urologist and another “50-on-50th” veteran), I had my liquid situation well planned. I didn’t get dehydrated, but I could’ve managed my fuel consumption better. Between 40 and 48 miles my legs held up well, but my vitality was depleted, so I slowed to 3 miles per hour, feeling chilled. I needed energy, but couldn’t hold down anything sweet. I tried to drink Gatorade and it came back up. I needed something gentle to my stomach. After Milton left, Jeff and Joni returned to assist. My problem-solving skills were squandered by then, so I needed their lucid thoughts to keep me moving forward safely toward home. They called Dana and she drove out with some whey protein powder mixed in rice milk— easy to digest —and it boosted me enough that I was able to run the last mile. By then I’d received my second birthday poem of the day (sung magnificently to the tune "Dixie" by the one-and-only Lee S) and Bill G (photo pro and financial advisor) had “taken the baton” to escort me in. Earlier he’d shot some pictures with a telephoto lens, which I haven’t seen yet. I didn’t last long on my feet after I reached home shortly after 9 pm. A hot bath, a leg massage, and a collapse into bed followed soon after!

Looking back with critical thinking, I should’ve gotten better prior rest, but, more importantly, I should’ve had a more coherent plan for my ongoing caloric intake and energy maintenance. Perhaps I should’ve trained more with something in keeping with my usual whole-foods diet, maybe honey or rice milk. I think I would’ve kept my momentum better and finished in less time, but all-in-all I did well and had only that one period of depletion. My muscles and joints held up fabulously. I just “ran out of gas.”

I felt fine and recovered remarkably fast over the next couple of days, with an occasional wave of fatigue. Only my feet were sore. I was active on Tuesday and went to watch niece Rita and Godson Nic at a high school track meet the following evening. Afterwards I accepted a hot tub invitation with Dana for a soak and some cold refreshment. The day after that (May 1st), I took most of the cards that had been on display at the Tavern and put together a new exhibit at the Boyle County Library, which will be up until the end of this month, and then we had severe weather come through Central KY. I am so thankful nothing like that happened on Monday the 29th. I could not have asked for a nicer day to do what I did on my birthday.

I’m feeling great, contemplating a new goal— maybe a duathlon or autumn marathon. It’s time to increase my weekly cycling mileage. As of yesterday I’ve lost 15 pounds since January (167 to 152). Clearly, I have transformed my aerobic metabolism. Friday night I decided to test my condition by running the local “Moonlight Mile.” I wondered if I had any speed left at all. It seemed like ages since I allowed myself to run hard. I thought perhaps I could break 8 minutes, but I had a 6:53.2 (with a strong kick). And then on Saturday morning I was able to do an uptempo 8-miler with the 7-am running group (with miles tapering from 8:10 to 9:37). This is very interesting. I feel a powerful need to test my fitness, but I don’t want to fall back into overtraining. Balance, as always, is the key.

And now the others are calling me the newest “Running Saint.” It is somewhat silly, but it feels like an honor, too. As Dick told me, “John, it becomes part of your personal character and integrity and no one can ever take it away from you.” I don’t think I could have imagined this when I first got my heart monitor a year ago. Much good change has happened, and there’s much to be learned and remembered, concerning the discipline of aerobic and dietary preparation, but I think the real story of my birthday experience is the team effort of good friends.

Building physical stamina lays a foundation for inner focus, which leads to mental toughness. From there, each individual athlete must find the hidden way to "guts" or "grit" (or whatever one chooses to call it— my Godfather always called it "the means"). It is a solitary discovery that must be made before the day is ultimately won— in my case, the 50-MILE-DAY —before those of us who reach for the ridiculous can know the "majestic sense of victory." For in that moment when one truly believes that an outrageous goal is possible, one gains something permanent, regardless of the outcome.

Maybe I should’ve stuck with the notion that there’s no rational explanation for having done this— an idea that I borrowed from Dick —but this is my best attempt at describing the prize that can never be taken away. Now that I’ve tried, I’m not sure it can be done without forsaking a certain humility. Forgive me if I have.

There are, without a doubt, many paths to that same Self-satisfaction. May we all trust our Selves to find one. May we all learn that each is merely one pale shade of Life’s eternal victory over sin, disease and death.

For all the kind words of encouragement… for every "thumbs up" or "high five" or simple smile of support… for each comrade on the road, I am grateful.

Here’s to my loving mate. Here’s to everyone who helped make it possible. Here’s to all of you. And to Yu… a heartfelt "Domo arigato gozaimashita."

And, finally, here’s to the big FIVE-OH!

cranking onward

Wednesday, April 12th, 2006

My love of April pulses through the senses… the perceptions of life reborn, and the resurrection flame in every emerald shoot.

My respect for March is a sober weight on my heart… the power of the experiment wanes, like a staggering man who clutches someone’s sleeve to steady himself. The currents of life swirl at my newly found stability, threatening to undermine the uncured foundation.

I feel the low gravitational energy of 2005 pulling at my center.

And so I mount the two-wheeled steed with my cohorts, and defy the hills until my lungs want to explode.

To fly with the redwing blackbirds, as the wind drinks my tears…

Various & Sundry, part thirty-four

Saturday, April 1st, 2006

— Month of March workout totals: Swim-5; Bike-5; Run-5; Lift-9; Yoga-9

— Word arrives from Greystone that Nicholas received his letter of acceptance from Auburn University’s College of Veterinary Medicine—news that makes his uncle and Godfather very proud. This is clearly an extraordinary year for graduates in our Clan. In addition, Caitlan is finishing up at Georgetown, and then she’ll be heading back to Oxford University to begin working on a second degree. Congratulations to both of them!

— Although it rained most of the afternoon yesterday, David, Rick, and I were able to have an enjoyable shooting practice under the range shelter since there was no wind. We alternated with four different antique rifles—the London-made Martini-Henry sporter (to which I’ve completely bonded), a Martini full-military “Long Lever,” a Winchester Model 94 in .30-30, and a Winchester Model 95 in .30-06. For the first time ever, I was able to hit targets at 300 yards with iron sites, despite the difficulty of contrasting recoil, trigger pull, and site configuration for each firearm. By Jove, I think these friends have made me into a long-range marksman! It was an ideal prelude to a meeting of the Wood Duck Society. When I showed it to him before dinner, Rick had a positive response to my artwork commemorating David’s South African safari. So far so good. Tonight we’ll see what the people in Louisville think of my “Legacy Art” concept.

Still capturing sight bites — An energetic pair of fowl, landing on a surface that mirrors dawn’s first hues—c-l-i-c-k—joined moments later by a second couple… The wood ducks have returned to Simpson Knob for another season, on the weekend that pays tribute to their modest splendor.

V & S

Now and at the hour of our victory

Sunday, March 26th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-five— I spent my 30 minutes of silence at Mack’s increasingly dilapidated cabin praying fervently for my uncle, who’s fighting his way back from critical care, so he can get the heart surgery he desperately needs.

I ran back to Danville afterwards, just as I had run the five miles out to the cabin, but my legs became alarmingly stiff at nine miles or so and I had to walk a bit. I smiled to think that only a few minutes before I’d been advising J M on how to accomplish his 50-miler next month. Obviously, I’m no ultra-marathoner these days. When I mentioned it to Dana at breakfast she reminded me that it’s been four years since I did mine. True enough.

After the silence, our friend J R (Buck) shared eloquent words about how an aging athlete faces the traumatic decline of the physical body. Fortunately I have no experience with this subject, so far. Uncle Joe does—more than he deserves.

For decades, there was no greater advocate for physical fitness in Southwestern Ohio than Joe Sullivan. He’s had a positive influence on hundreds of educators and literally thousands of young people. He introduced things like tumbling mats and trampolines to the region and designed numerous state-of-the-art gymnasiums. And that doesn’t even touch on his contributions to coaching or his achievements as a college professor. You would think that he’d earned some points that would spare him the pain and indignity of a physical breakdown—he of all people, but it looks as though the Lord makes no such deals. Grace, on the other hand, is another issue.

I will continue to pray the Hail Mary for Uncle Joe.

Today’s sight bites— The march of ditch clutter, to the lower left of my stride, a parade of Newport packs and green Mountain Dew bottles—c-l-i-c-k—Little Caesar’s cartons—c-l-i-c-k—blue Bud Light cans—c-l-i-c-k—Long John Silver’s boxes—c-l-i-c-k—red McDonalds French-fry pockets—c-l-i-c-k—Arby’s bags—c-l-i-c-k—dip containers, soda straws, and orange candy wrappers—c-l-i-c-k—with the helpless notion that I should at the very least interpret all this as an artistic statement, an homage to Kurt Schwitters called Scenic Kentucky Highway 52

Tomorrow— Drawing a good friend in Africa, plus an important call to Virginia (the Mother of Presidents, not Mombo—the Mother of Me—although that’s not a bad idea)…

On the 6th day of spring

Saturday, March 25th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-four— I rescheduled my ten-miler when I arose to discover a steady shower of wet sleet at first light. Well, at least I didn’t have more than my hopes invested in the proposed venture, unlike other ambitious people. I may be bonkers, but I’m not a madman. Not yet, anyway. However, I do recall running in worse weather during the winter of oh-two. A local man stopped his car and yelled, “You’ve got to be crazy to run in this!” I shouted back, “You’ve got to be crazy to drive in this!”

Today is about dealing efficiently with a multiple of tasks recently sidelined by a critical deadline, which naturally tends to subordinate other priorities. It’s about breaking a habit—temporarily letting go of my discipline or indulging an escape after a major presentation, instead of shifting the same level of focus to a new area of active creativity. Maintaining a momentum of accomplishment is a more desirable reward, if a reward is necessary. I’m tired of having to regain my inertia over and over again. I’d rather keep a more even pace of achievement. I’ve learned this from exercise, but the idea has taken on a new power for me, the more I pay attention to the advice of artists who know how to routinely get things done.

Last night before bed I spent time with Kazu’s description of how he creates his “Copper” strip. This morning I’m “mining” an interview with Arundhati Roy. Some of her thoughts fascinate me because I’m trying to find a way through the challenge of shifting my fine art from a gift-oriented activity to a more self-centric ambition, in order to professionalize it within a desired array of income modules. For reasons unclear, I’ve been getting more out of listening closely to writers and filmmakers (and a dancer!) than I get out of listening to designers or visual artists.

“You know, I always believed that even among the best writers, there are selfish writers and there are generous ones. Selfish writers leave you with the memory of their book. Generous writers leave you with the memory of the world they evoked. To evoke a world, to communicate it to someone, is like writing a letter to someone that you love. It’s a very thin line. For me, books are gifts. When I read a book, I accept it as a gift from an author. When I wrote this book, I presented it as a gift. The reader will do with it what they want.”

Roy’s keen insight applies to all the fine arts—in my case, the applied arts. If I’m to be honest with myself, it’s my identity as an illustrator that I seek to define, rather than as a true fine artist, at least in the near term. Earning commissions for the type of imagery I intend to create involves meaningful service to a customer, and so I must juggle my own artistic agenda while capturing a high level of personal significance for my client—balancing the selfish with the generous—providing pleasure in the sense of legacy, a useful satisfaction. Emerson often draws his distinction between the fine and the “useful” arts, but makes clear that both can lead to wealth.

Why is it that I’ve been more comfortable with dedicated effort toward seizing health and less so with wealth? Is it just cultural conditioning or is it part of my DNA? I wanted health, so I built it into my body. It took time, but I did it. I have goals that require a solid microeconomic platform. Forget wealth. I would hope that I could just free myself from the low-grade financial stress that erodes well-being. But Emerson doesn’t dance euphemistically around the issue. He uses the word.

“Wealth is in application of mind to nature; and the art of getting rich consists not in industry, much less in saving, but in a better order, in timeliness, in being at the right spot.

Indeed. Let’s get back to the drill.

Today’s sight bite— Afternoon sunlight cuts across a wall the color of thick mucous, as my paint-saturated roller subtracts the distasteful hue—c-l-i-c-k—with white, glorious white, overtaking the wall, swath by swath.

Tomorrow— Running toward the dawn, to share the silence with friends…

Million Dollar Babies and Fifty Cent Maybes

Thursday, March 23rd, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-two— When I got back from the gym, I finally finished resolving Tuesday’s surprise request, and shoved it over the wire with a sense of relief. Then I was able to settle back into designing the equine symbology, benefiting from Dana’s help and a bit of synchronicity when the realization struck that it’s never too late to revisit research mode if things get into a rut. Twyla writes about this in her book. By afternoon I had a new momentum of progress. She knows everything!

Today’s sight bite— Freezing a noisy blur with eye and hand—c-l-i-c-k—as gloved fists strike the black speed bag.

Tomorrow— A client’s reaction, after a kick to the finish line…

Hey, it’s a hey

Saturday, March 18th, 2006

March experiment—day seventeen— It was a physically active day, which, after my morning run, I spent mostly outdoors. Our yard is a mess because 2005 didn’t lend itself to fooling around with the hedges and flower beds. Across the street, workers were removing the stained glass windows from the Baptist church in preparation for its demolition. JT told me that he won’t know whether we can get the surplus stone for my driveway concept until the Library board takes possession. The month of May seems awfully close in time, and I hope I can be ready to keep my end of the proposition. I couldn’t believe how fast those guys up on the cherry picker were working—real professionals. That must be an expensive contract.

I spent an hour or so away from my chores by going out to Chrisman Lane with Dan. We picked up litter as part of our “Friends of Mack Jackson” Adopt-A-Highway project. The two of us “drew a short straw” with our task of clearing a steep embankment of trash. It’s always tough to confront how disgustingly negligent people can be, but Mack would be happy with the effort of our informal group. If we keep after it on a regular basis, it shouldn’t be this bad again, I would hope.

I was worn out by the time Dana and I arrived at the English Country Dance with Lee and David, but it was a delightful event—even more enjoyable than the first time. It’s not something I’d want to do that often, but I’m starting to appreciate the simple, wholesome joy of it, and you can’t knock a Berea potluck spread. Yum.

Today’s sight bite— A misty Angus snout bursts with the luminous backlight of sunrise—c-l-i-c-k—as dark gray, plank-fence patterns and long, tree-shadow brushstrokes move rhythmically underfoot.

Tomorrow— Spend some overdue time with the Marty-Man, and slow down a bit before Monday hits like a whirlwind…

A different stroke for a diffident bloke

Thursday, March 16th, 2006

March experiment—day fifteen— Took a break after 20 laps and caught some rays on the deck next to the natatorium. I wasn’t expecting the sun to nullify the breeze, so I found it to be surprisingly comfortable for the few minutes I spent outside. The pool felt warm when I first got back in the water and soon finished up with 33 total laps—a perfect workout.

When I got back to the studio, I was able to find my way through a difficult juncture with the Burkmann equine symbology, even though I felt thoroughly stumped before my midday swim. Dr. Williams has set the bar rather high on this assignment, and I’m trying to avoid taking a “safe” approach. I wish it was self-confidence that drives me to employ a challenging design method, but I suppose it’s just fear of mediocrity.

Tonight’s brainstorming session with five other avid cyclists was moving along nicely until I let the meeting become diffused and run too long. I still have so much to learn about efficient meeting leadership, and I wonder if I’ll ever gain that valuable skill.

Today’s sight bite— Treating my eyes to a crocus bed of purple, white, and yellow splashes—c-l-i-c-k—before looking up to see bare-arm walkers and a ’57 Chevy Bel Air cruise by. (Don’t tell anyone in Punxsutawney, but spring arrived in Danville, Kentucky on March 16th.)

Tomorrow— Complete the Salvation Army stationery and invitation letter for April’s annual event…

A day of being present at each moment

Thursday, March 9th, 2006

March experiment—day eight— Don’t have much graphic product to show for myself today, but my time sensitivity, efficiency, and focus were on track. Much of the day involved helping sort out the high-res PDF problems associated with software upgrades. I made decent progress on modifying the project schedule for IFP, plus I had enough energy to swim a 450-yard sprint in 8:05 (a personal record), run the vacuum cleaner, and make a get-well card for my Uncle Joe, too. Had my first look at Paul’s unfinished painting for the Brass Band Festival Poster. The letter I sent yesterday appeared on the Advocate’s opinion page, which helps my effort to organize the local bike-ped task force. Before the library closed I treated myself with “FLIGHT, Volume Two.”

Today’s sight bite— A colorful, plate-size Greek salad that Dana made me for lunch—c-l-i-c-k—a joy for the eye and a treat for the tummy.

Tomorrow— 28 years since my sweetheart and I went out on our first date…

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Ned

Wednesday, March 8th, 2006

March experiment—day seven— Wrote a letter to the editor on bike-ped issues before 7 am, and then spent 30 minutes on the spinning bike before lifting weights. I felt like I was in the groove when I hit the studio on schedule after breakfast. Finished my part of the Forever Spring Farm revisions by afternoon, but my energy level began to slide downhill from there. Bizarre correspondence from a Kentucky Farm Bureau adjuster didn’t help matters. Developing the kind of 17-hour stamina I’m shooting for is going to take some time, but I didn’t expect that I could build it in a week.

Today’s sight bite— The bleak array of mobile homes behind the 10th Planet—c-l-i-c-k—thoroughly washed of color under the grim overcast sky.

Tomorrow— Paperwork for the “graybeard prospector” until a midday attempt at a 450-yard PR…

Another lesson learned

Monday, March 6th, 2006

March experiment—day five— The momentum of the time study was interrupted by yesterday’s lack of focus. It wasn’t difficult to see why the pace of the schedule had broken down by this morning. I’ve learned something simple but important about the effect of a weekend, and that relaxation must be purposeful, but without a loss of inertia. In other words, proper rest must be seen as an integral part of the drill itself, like the 15-minute mile I deliberately inserted into a 12- or 14-mile training run. Rest is for replenishing energy, and to rebuild one’s reserves—not, as in this case, to dissipate creative force or sacrifice mental clarity.

Unfortunately, yesterday ended with as much laziness as it began. I tend to watch the Oscars for the “moments,” rare as they are, but was surprised to discover how much I enjoyed Stewart’s quips. He just might be as good as I’ve been told, but we don’t get Comedy Central. I got a kick out of his Heston joke. That montage of suggestive western clips is a treasure (none of us will probably ever get to see it again), and that hunk shot from “The Big Country” was quite possibly a major sway for Wyler on the Judah Ben-Hur casting decision. And, of course, Chuck also made it into the “epics” montage with his classic clenched-teeth charioteer shot, a role he admits he probably wouldn’t have gotten if he hadn’t accepted the supporting part in the ’58 picture with Peck. I demand as many years as possible before the time of sadness when Chuck makes the “In Memoriam” reel. Douglas and Newman are about the only other true “legends” left. (You thought I was going to say Mickey Rooney, didn’t you?) Well, maybe Sophia Loren and Lauren Bacall, too…and did you watch how Bacall salvaged that TelePrompTer mishap with quintessential poise? Now that’s a classy pro!

Today’s sight bite— The almost-but-not-quite-amusing, embarrassingly unskilled knot—c-l-i-c-k—that I tied to secure in the trunk the oversize box containing our faulty monitor.

Tomorrow— A full resumption of the experiment, and a meeting with the CREEC volunteers…