The Man

UPDATED
I am a fairly law abiding citizen. I haven't run a foul of the law that often. Whenever I did, it was normally a minor misunderstanding - usually by the law.

That said, this morning, I was running my weekly hill workout and I somehow got slapped by the long arm of the law, security guard law that is.

Since I have a job, I have to get up early and run. Today's workout was 10 miles of hills. It takes 1 hour 20 minutes to run 10 miles and about 45 minutes to warm up, cool down, and finish up with 10 minutes of squats. The bottom line is, I run from about 6:00 AM to 7:20 AM on a 7-minute loop that takes me through an auxiliary parking lot of St Tammany Hospital.

It is pitch dark at the beginning of the run and doesn't get light until about 7:00 AM. I wear a fluorescent green shirt, my shorts and shoes have reflective material on them. I wear a reflective vest and a bright LED headlamp. I want cars to see me and they do.

I am conscious of the fact, that runners can sneak up on people. They go from bee bopping across the parking lot to the panic of “Hey I’m getting mugged” in a milisecond. Since I know this, I cut a wide berth around anyone walking. I try to cough or scuff my shoe to make noise and thereby announce my presence.

I have been running this path well over a year with no incident. The shuttle bus driver for the hospital must see me at least 10 times when I am running my loops. I am no secret or new phenomenon.

Hills are not plentiful in Covington. I need hills within running distance from my house. This road and parking lot represent the best around. I would much rather run a longer route than go around this loop, but I need hills and these are the ones I have.

Sooooooo.

Today, just after daylight broke, I was running along just having exited the parking lot and a car with a flashing amber light on his dashboard pulled along side me and honked.

I hate to stop running in the middle of a workout, but I make exceptions for authority figures.

Here is the conversation:
Security Guard (SG): Getting your morning exercise?
Me: Yeah.
SG: I'm going to have to ask you not to run through that parking lot. You're making some nurses nervous. They don't know what you're doing.
Me: (Puzzled look because I can't see how me stopping to run through the parking lot would un-nervous some neurotic nurses.)
SG: OK.
Me: Yeah, OK (Said in my best sarcastic, kiss my ass voice.)

I was fuming. This little incident is another illustration of the PUSSification of America.

Get a grip nervous nurses, I am just trying to train for a marathon here. If you are that freaking fragile I would hate to be one of your patients. Cripes.

One moron complains and everyone has to quit playing.

Who knows what happened. The SG may just be a prick and made it up. Maybe someone really did complain, but the final result is I have been told to stay out and it is probably within their rights to do so.

I was going to write their administrator and try to resolve the matter like an adult, but instead I decided to let them shove their entire parking lot up their ass including the railroad ties and chain link fence that goes with it.

F'em if they can't take a joke.

Pussification of America number 2: Massachusetts elementary school bans tag because it is too dangerous. WTF! (Sorry mom, but I am torqued.)

Pussification of America number 3: I was watching the Today Show this morning. I don't know why I do, because it always gets my blood boiling.

Some psychologist was talking about how Americans aren't getting enough sleep and employers are starting to realize that well rested employees are more productive employees.

How do they get them well rested? They let them take freaking naps on the job. In the words of Fred Sanford, "I'm coming to join you Elizabeth."

Give me a break. Sleep at home morons. Don't expect your boss to give you milk and cookies and a nap mat. You did that crap in kindergarten.

How about this. Do your freaking job or I will get someone in here who can.

There I said it and I feel better.

Until the next time and taking deep breaths.
John Strain

Life is now

I ran 16 miles Sunday. I had to run early, because Marty and I were leaving for the Saints game at 9:30 AM. I was up at 4:45 AM and out of the house by 5:30 AM. I really like starting a run when it is dark because time seems to move quicker and I get to experience the dawning of a new day.

Sunday was no disappointment. The temperature was mild and the sky was cloudy. At one point as the sun was rising, the sky was a brilliant display of reds and oranges. The icing on the cake was a V formation of honking geese flying about 40 feet off of the ground heading to their pond.

One of the reasons I like to run is I get to see things like that. They are fleeting moments, but they linger in my mind. I draw on their beauty later in the day or days later. They keep fresh in my mind the truth that life has a certain beauty, clarity, and rhythm that will go on an on even if man is stupid enough to blow himself up.

It gives me peace of mind to where I can laugh at the talking heads trying to instill fear in the masses to increase their ratings. These days it is easy to become distracted and get all excited about something we have no control over.

Our generation is no different than any generation before us. Each individual must learn to live. He/she must find a way to balance threats, fears, and the hard things of life. We must find a way to mine meaning from the mountains of doubt and hardship. Some give up and become bitter and angry. Others look for meaning in activity and they drive themselves crazy trying to keep the plates spinning on the poles like the act on the Ed Sullivan Show.

Troubles will come and go. They will seek each of us out in the course of life. It will happen. So what do we do? How do we keep our chin up and our spirits from giving out?

Well, for me, I take advantage of the "now." I take pleasure in the fleeting moment of a spectacular morning sky. I savor the smells of jasmine, sweet olive, and gardenia when they are in season. I laugh at my dog and smile as he spews enthusiasm for chasing a ball. I laugh with friends and I watch the squirrels eat the corn I put out for them.

Life is now; don’t miss it.

Until the next time
John Strain

More than a game

Sitting in the Superdome yesterday, taking in the Saints / Eagles game, I paused to drink in the spectacle that was that moment. In 15 or so other cities on Sundays across the United States, similar events are taking place.

It is quite a thing if you think about it. A lot of money is spent to build a stadium. Armies of people are mobilized to entertain and provide concessions. Fans come dressed to honor their team. Emotions rise and fall like something really big was at stake. The result can influence a city or region’s attitude for the next few days.

Football is a cultural phenomenon to say the least.

Some people don't get it. They see it as silly. A waste of time and money, but football is much more than a game.

Boys grow up playing football in their yards. They advance to the neighborhood games, and if they are good junior high and high school. A few make it to college and fewer still go onto the pros.

The first game you go to in the NFL is probably with your father as a young boy. If you keep at it, you go someday with your son, maybe even your grandchildren. It becomes a tradition and stories are shared with friends and family for years to come.

Lately, I have seen another dimension of football I would like to share. It has not received much press, but in my mind it is front-page news.

New Orleans is a city that receives a lot of fans from the opposing team. Why not, it is a great destination city. Fans are coming though who do more than walk down Bourbon Street and work out their pent up craziness.

Last week a group of Philadelphia Eagles fans came down to help gut some houses in New Orleans. The destruction is still being cleaned up. They were wearing their Eagles garb and working. They were dragging debris to the street and cleaning up a little part of what Katrina destroyed. Football fans? Sure, but human beings first. They said they couldn't look at this (destruction) and do nothing.

A group of people from Atlanta did the same thing when the Falcons played here. In addition to the fans that come to New Orleans and help, players from the visiting teams also take the tour of the destruction.

The interviews are similar. A young football star is peering into a camera having just been slapped with a hard dose of reality. He is feeling pretty lucky and privileged. They always say something nice, some give money, and others help, but all are greatly changed.

Coming to New Orleans these days is a mixture of having fun and having things put in perspective for you. One cannot look at the devastation and not feel something. The scope of the damage is all one needs. No explanation is needed. No one has to draw you a picture - you "get it."

It does my heart good to see people take time out of their well-deserved vacations and lend a hand to their fellow man. These are football fans and football players and they prove that football is much more than just a game.

Until the next time
John Strain

What I did 24 years ago

October 12, 1982 is the day I asked Barbara to marry me. Time flies. To celebrate, we went out for a drink after work. It seems like yesterday when I pulled out the ring and put it on her finger.

I finally gave into her hounding me. Just kidding.

If you are interested in reading the detailed story of that night, you can read it here.

Have a great weekend.

Until the next time
John Strain

Doing fine

Blogger was on the fritz earlier, but I wanted to let folks know that Bear is doing just fine. He was a bit sheepish and subdued last night. He just stood around looking like someone had just cut off his nuts.

Oh that's right, they did. Ha.

Anyway, he woke up today and wanted to play ball. I guess since he doesn't have his anymore, he wants to play ball even more. The doc says he has to take it easy for a few days.

I took him for a walk and he peed and scratched like nothing had happened.

Have a nice Thrusday folks.

Until the next time
John Strain