29 days, 19 hours to go...
Well friends, today marks "one month to go" before the marathon. It's been a rainy, humid sort of day, and I did a long effort on the treadmill. I felt good, but with the day of the race approaching I can't help but wondering if I'm ready.
Frank Shorter, gold-medalist in the 1972 Olympic marathon once said, "You have to forget your last marathon before you try another. Your mind can't know what's coming." He might have a point. My first marathon involved 15 miles of joy followed by 10 miles of pain followed by 1.2 miles of end-it-now adrenaline. If that sounds like a roller-coaster experience, it was; certainly one of the more interesting 4+ hour stretches of my life to date.
With that aside, the preparation for this marathon has been much better. I've done several longer efforts, and managed two decent 3-week cycles of track-work. I will probably do two more long efforts before the race, and possible another workout too. I've also done more running in shorter stretches, which believe it or not is an improvement from last time as well, when nearly all my training was done at a walk. And despite my misgivings about readiness, better training and the experience of having done it once already leave me feeling more confident than last time. I count this as a good thing.
So in short, things are going well but also getting "real," so to speak. I feel a curious mixture of excitement and nervous-anticipation, and while training my thoughts, by their own inertia, seem increasingly to wander through thought-experiments of how the race will go. And while I've forgotten a fair bit of my last marathon, I remember enough that such wanderings are rarely unaccompanied by a sense of dear-me-why-did-I-sign-up-for-this-again? It's humorous and terrifying all at once, in a way, and I don't know how the drama will end on race-day. With 29 days, 19 hours to go, bringing these antithetical emotions together for one purpose could prove quite important for keeping a level head.
Happy Friday, friends :)
Friday, September 28, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
A Reflection on "Anti-Intellectualism in American Life--Review"
I found an interesting review today from the Barnes and Noble Review website on Richard Hoftstadter's 1963 book "Anti-Intellectualism in American Life." In it, reviewer Michael Dirda parses this 1964 Pulitzer Prize winning work, which according to Hoftstadter sought to "trace some of the social movements in our history in which intellect has been dissevered from its co-ordinate place among the human virtues and assigned the position of a special kind of vice."
The review suggests a highly stimulating, albeit somewhat dated book. Yet its central theme remains relevant even to this day; that is, the persistent distrust of intellectual understanding and thought. This "distrust" comes in many forms, but it seems to rest on the notion that intellectuals lack a "warmth of emotion, solidity of character, practical capacity, or democratic sentiment." Claims Hofstadter, how can one defend "...a type of man who at best is deemed to be merely clever and at worst may even be dangerous?" How indeed.
I find this an interesting question, because it has throughout history played a role in the development of anti-intellectual political ideologies even outside the United States. Perhaps the earliest and most recognizable example is that of the "Noble Savage," an archetype which became popular in Europe around the time of the Renaissance. It's basic premise held that civilization and culture corrupt people by drawing them away from their primitive, natural existence. Among other sources, these ideas were derived in part from the Roman writer Tacitus' work Germania, as well as from those exploring newly-discovered civilizations in the New World. While not universally accepted (Charles Dickens famously called it a "prodigious nuisance and an enormous superstition"), the "Noble Savage" ideal nonetheless proved (and continues to prove) influential.
According to the historian Woodruff Smith, toward the end of the 19th century liberals in Germany began using "small-scale peasant agriculture," as "a symbol of preindustrial society, [and] of all that was threatened by modernity and industrialization" (Smith, Ideological Origins of Nazi Imperialism (1986), p.86), what is today called "Agrarianism." Indeed:
"Agrarianism incorporated a catalog of virtues that were held to inhere in the character of small farmers. Peasant farmers had a stronger and more direct connection with nature than almost any other social type, yet they were not simply nature's untamed children. Their whole life consisted of an interaction between ingenuity and will on the one hand and the forces of nature--both predictable and unpredictable--on the other. The idea that farmers achieved, through effort, a balance among natural forces gave the agrarian image part of its appeal to people with little first hand experience of actual agriculture...The varied experiences that resulted from such contact made small farmers 'well-rounded' persons, gave them a common-sense sagacity and an ability to judge people and issues superior to that of town dwellers or wage laborers" (Smith, 87).
One might glean from this cornucopia of "virtues" that people with a closer connection to the land were believed to have superior qualities of practicality and judgment. Later during the pre-Nazi years, thinkers like Walther Darré began pushing the "Blut und Boden" (blood and soil) school of thought, which essentially combined agrarian ideas with racial-charged eugenic principles; that the strength of any nation was derived chiefly by the connection its people had with the soil, as well as the racial purity of its people's blood. Needless to say, even "pure-blooded" intellectuals were not highly esteemed in such a world-view.
Initially employed by liberals as a "defense of the ordinary man against the elites, [and] the emphasis on the political utility of common sense," agrarian ideology was hijacked in the late 19th century by conservative landholders who divorced it from its liberal beginnings, emphasizing instead that by getting rid of the peasantry (land-holders' laboring class) essential vessels of traditional German culture would be lost(Smith, 89-93). In so doing, traditional landed-elites in Germany hoped to maintain their social position amidst a rapidly industrializing country. Such compromises appear to be common features of many ideologies.
Thus there is no shortage of ideological traditions which spurn intellectuals for less-reflective professions. One thing that struck me while researching the origins of Nazi political ideology back in college was how it constantly brought to mind Tolkien's heroes from The Lord of the Rings. Indeed, while appearing in print a decade after the end of Nazi rule, the wise and heroic figures of that tale come from a farming community (all the hobbits, including Farmer Maggot), are soldiers (such as Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Éomer, Éowyn, and Théoden), or mythical types (like Gandalf, Treebeard, Gimli, and Legolas). On top of that, among the villains devious intellectuals like Saruman and Grima Wormtongue can be found, who use their intellect to harm, manipulate, and deceive others in the pursuit of selfish ends. While Tolkien rebelled against Nazi attempts to draw parallels between his earlier stories like The Hobbit and their racial ideologies, it is apparent that both drew from similar intellectual traditions, albeit with different purposes in mind.
Which brings us back to Hofstadter and our own times. In the aftermath of a deep global recession, continued uncertainty in Europe, and a divisive intellectual climate regarding the future of the economy, government, and society generally, there appears to be a sense of anti-intellectual sentiment in the broad conversations of our time. More than once in the last few years have I heard humanities majors lambasted by people who say such majors are a waste of money and lead nowhere. "Study something useful," they often say, like health care, finance, engineering, or computers. "Quit wasting time in history, English, and religious studies." They say, in short, to market yourself like a product; to structure your life like a business.
Interestingly, according to the review Hofstadter discusses the underlying ethos of this idea way back in the 1960s, when business ethos began showing "a contempt for the reflective mind, for culture, and for the past." Added to that might be the consequent elevation of "'practical intelligence,' coupled with a passion for some 'forward step in progress,'" such that, "'American business, once defended on the ground that it produced a high standard of culture, was now defended mainly on the ground that it produced a high standard of living.'"
Due to the depth of the recession, the tepid nature of the recovery, and the real strain it has and continues to wreak on large swaths of the population, I think we are hearing more and more that such business ethos are necessary in order to survive in a world of relative famine; that action, extroversion, and the pursuit of wealth is the best (and perhaps, only) route to happiness in our world today.
Consider the idea put forward by Thomas Friedman in this interview, where among other things he emphasizes the need for Americans today to embrace the attitudes of the "immigrant" and the "artisan"; that we must be willing to work like an immigrant (hard and humbly), and take pride in our work like an artisan (willing to sign our name proudly to everything we make).
I'm sympathetic to these notions, but I worry about what may happen if so much emphasis is placed on acquiring practical skills that we forget the value of intellectual development in the process. Indeed, where are we as individuals or a society if we have know-how, but no sense of how to govern wisely, optimize necessary trade-offs, and discern the difference between intellectual wool-over-the-eyes, and sound, evidence-based theory? This seems to me at least as important as knowing how to repair a car, file taxes, or program a robot.
I will grant that some intellectuals are devious; that some are arrogant, narrow-minded, hypocritical, snobbish, or out-of-touch with the lives of most people. I will grant that many intellectuals do not come across as "wise," whatever that means, or capable of keeping the cogs of civil society turning. Yet I feel the same can be true of almost anyone, given the proper circumstances. And for all the intellectuals who spend their lives buried under heavy tomes of arcane knowledge of an obscure (and let's be honest, not particularly-practical) discipline, there are those whose perspective help the rest of us see a little more clearly the bigger picture of where our world has been, and where it might go. As Mr. Hofstadter suggests, anti-intellectualism has a long history. Yet each time it is embraced something seems to be lost in the process; we embrace the practical, but lose sight of what we're doing and why. Something curious to consider further perhaps.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
The review suggests a highly stimulating, albeit somewhat dated book. Yet its central theme remains relevant even to this day; that is, the persistent distrust of intellectual understanding and thought. This "distrust" comes in many forms, but it seems to rest on the notion that intellectuals lack a "warmth of emotion, solidity of character, practical capacity, or democratic sentiment." Claims Hofstadter, how can one defend "...a type of man who at best is deemed to be merely clever and at worst may even be dangerous?" How indeed.
I find this an interesting question, because it has throughout history played a role in the development of anti-intellectual political ideologies even outside the United States. Perhaps the earliest and most recognizable example is that of the "Noble Savage," an archetype which became popular in Europe around the time of the Renaissance. It's basic premise held that civilization and culture corrupt people by drawing them away from their primitive, natural existence. Among other sources, these ideas were derived in part from the Roman writer Tacitus' work Germania, as well as from those exploring newly-discovered civilizations in the New World. While not universally accepted (Charles Dickens famously called it a "prodigious nuisance and an enormous superstition"), the "Noble Savage" ideal nonetheless proved (and continues to prove) influential.
According to the historian Woodruff Smith, toward the end of the 19th century liberals in Germany began using "small-scale peasant agriculture," as "a symbol of preindustrial society, [and] of all that was threatened by modernity and industrialization" (Smith, Ideological Origins of Nazi Imperialism (1986), p.86), what is today called "Agrarianism." Indeed:
"Agrarianism incorporated a catalog of virtues that were held to inhere in the character of small farmers. Peasant farmers had a stronger and more direct connection with nature than almost any other social type, yet they were not simply nature's untamed children. Their whole life consisted of an interaction between ingenuity and will on the one hand and the forces of nature--both predictable and unpredictable--on the other. The idea that farmers achieved, through effort, a balance among natural forces gave the agrarian image part of its appeal to people with little first hand experience of actual agriculture...The varied experiences that resulted from such contact made small farmers 'well-rounded' persons, gave them a common-sense sagacity and an ability to judge people and issues superior to that of town dwellers or wage laborers" (Smith, 87).
One might glean from this cornucopia of "virtues" that people with a closer connection to the land were believed to have superior qualities of practicality and judgment. Later during the pre-Nazi years, thinkers like Walther Darré began pushing the "Blut und Boden" (blood and soil) school of thought, which essentially combined agrarian ideas with racial-charged eugenic principles; that the strength of any nation was derived chiefly by the connection its people had with the soil, as well as the racial purity of its people's blood. Needless to say, even "pure-blooded" intellectuals were not highly esteemed in such a world-view.
Initially employed by liberals as a "defense of the ordinary man against the elites, [and] the emphasis on the political utility of common sense," agrarian ideology was hijacked in the late 19th century by conservative landholders who divorced it from its liberal beginnings, emphasizing instead that by getting rid of the peasantry (land-holders' laboring class) essential vessels of traditional German culture would be lost(Smith, 89-93). In so doing, traditional landed-elites in Germany hoped to maintain their social position amidst a rapidly industrializing country. Such compromises appear to be common features of many ideologies.
Thus there is no shortage of ideological traditions which spurn intellectuals for less-reflective professions. One thing that struck me while researching the origins of Nazi political ideology back in college was how it constantly brought to mind Tolkien's heroes from The Lord of the Rings. Indeed, while appearing in print a decade after the end of Nazi rule, the wise and heroic figures of that tale come from a farming community (all the hobbits, including Farmer Maggot), are soldiers (such as Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Éomer, Éowyn, and Théoden), or mythical types (like Gandalf, Treebeard, Gimli, and Legolas). On top of that, among the villains devious intellectuals like Saruman and Grima Wormtongue can be found, who use their intellect to harm, manipulate, and deceive others in the pursuit of selfish ends. While Tolkien rebelled against Nazi attempts to draw parallels between his earlier stories like The Hobbit and their racial ideologies, it is apparent that both drew from similar intellectual traditions, albeit with different purposes in mind.
Which brings us back to Hofstadter and our own times. In the aftermath of a deep global recession, continued uncertainty in Europe, and a divisive intellectual climate regarding the future of the economy, government, and society generally, there appears to be a sense of anti-intellectual sentiment in the broad conversations of our time. More than once in the last few years have I heard humanities majors lambasted by people who say such majors are a waste of money and lead nowhere. "Study something useful," they often say, like health care, finance, engineering, or computers. "Quit wasting time in history, English, and religious studies." They say, in short, to market yourself like a product; to structure your life like a business.
Interestingly, according to the review Hofstadter discusses the underlying ethos of this idea way back in the 1960s, when business ethos began showing "a contempt for the reflective mind, for culture, and for the past." Added to that might be the consequent elevation of "'practical intelligence,' coupled with a passion for some 'forward step in progress,'" such that, "'American business, once defended on the ground that it produced a high standard of culture, was now defended mainly on the ground that it produced a high standard of living.'"
Due to the depth of the recession, the tepid nature of the recovery, and the real strain it has and continues to wreak on large swaths of the population, I think we are hearing more and more that such business ethos are necessary in order to survive in a world of relative famine; that action, extroversion, and the pursuit of wealth is the best (and perhaps, only) route to happiness in our world today.
Consider the idea put forward by Thomas Friedman in this interview, where among other things he emphasizes the need for Americans today to embrace the attitudes of the "immigrant" and the "artisan"; that we must be willing to work like an immigrant (hard and humbly), and take pride in our work like an artisan (willing to sign our name proudly to everything we make).
I'm sympathetic to these notions, but I worry about what may happen if so much emphasis is placed on acquiring practical skills that we forget the value of intellectual development in the process. Indeed, where are we as individuals or a society if we have know-how, but no sense of how to govern wisely, optimize necessary trade-offs, and discern the difference between intellectual wool-over-the-eyes, and sound, evidence-based theory? This seems to me at least as important as knowing how to repair a car, file taxes, or program a robot.
I will grant that some intellectuals are devious; that some are arrogant, narrow-minded, hypocritical, snobbish, or out-of-touch with the lives of most people. I will grant that many intellectuals do not come across as "wise," whatever that means, or capable of keeping the cogs of civil society turning. Yet I feel the same can be true of almost anyone, given the proper circumstances. And for all the intellectuals who spend their lives buried under heavy tomes of arcane knowledge of an obscure (and let's be honest, not particularly-practical) discipline, there are those whose perspective help the rest of us see a little more clearly the bigger picture of where our world has been, and where it might go. As Mr. Hofstadter suggests, anti-intellectualism has a long history. Yet each time it is embraced something seems to be lost in the process; we embrace the practical, but lose sight of what we're doing and why. Something curious to consider further perhaps.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Practice: learning to show, not tell
I found this piece on The Chronicle For Higher Education's website this evening, talking about how one professor (Mark Spitzer) teaches his students about description, and how with practice they might do it better. The idea seems to involve learning how describe a scene to a reader rather than simply explaining it to them in an ambiguous way; what some people call the "show, not tell" method.
"Showing" is something I work on a lot, particularly when writing letters. But I suspect a little practice wouldn't hurt, so I've decided to start a series of posts with the aim of practicing this "showing" form of description.
My plan is to make as detailed a description as I can in 150-words or less. For the first post, I'll start with something readily hand: my phone.
"Showing" is something I work on a lot, particularly when writing letters. But I suspect a little practice wouldn't hurt, so I've decided to start a series of posts with the aim of practicing this "showing" form of description.
My plan is to make as detailed a description as I can in 150-words or less. For the first post, I'll start with something readily hand: my phone.
This is my phone, a rectangular object with rounded corners,
and slightly perceptible curves to the top and bottom edges. The screen has a
reflective, luminous look, tarnished only by a a scratch here and smudges of
fingerprints there. On the side of the phone without keys a reflective patch
shines up at me, where a circular lens marks the location where the phone’s
camera receives input. Raised diagonal lines which cross at a repeated interval
give this side of the phone purchase. When looking at the screen, the right
side of the phone contains the button for using the camera, as well as the
recharging port, while the left side contains the volume-adjustment buttons,
and a port for receiving a microphone. The keyboard crosses the width of the
phone, bending slightly in the middle as though pulled by gravity. The keys too
shine, but not quite like the screen.
Word count: 150
Well there you have my first attempt. It's not as easy as I expected, and there's much I think that could be added (or subtracted) from the description to improve its efficacy. Nonetheless I think it's a good first start, and perhaps I'll give it a try again soon.
Happy Wednesday, friends :)
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Some ways community affects our lives
According to this piece from The Economist, the "car culture" of rich countries is evolving toward less driving and less interest in automobiles, in part because of new social interactions related to the Internet.
According to this piece from The New York Times, families who moved out of low-income housing using federal vouchers didn't earn more money, but they experienced levels of happiness equal to those who made $13,000 more a year.
And according to this piece in The Wilson Quarterly, mental illnesses like schizophrenia appear to be brought on and/or exacerbated by social context and community.
While reading this past week, I began feeling as though these pieces were all hinting at something, but on which I couldn't quite place a finger. How are they related? And what is a common thread running through them all?
On a broad level, I think they relate with respect to the way community affects the way people feel and interact with their world. In the Economist piece, a study by the University of Michigan is cited which shows that where Internet use is high among young people it is more common to get one's drivers' license later (or indeed, not at all). In another survey, it was found that, "...young people increasingly view cars as appliances not aspirations, and say that social media give them the access to their world that would once have been associated with cars." This is interesting, because it shows how having an online community affects the way people interact off-line. If one can talk and share over the Internet, perhaps there is less need to get in a car and see them.
In the New York Times piece, people who moved out of low-income neighborhoods into more mixed-income neighborhoods didn't see a rise in their earnings, but they did become happier; indeed, as happy as a family which made $13,000 more a year. The first result is perhaps unsurprising, since education is believed to have a far greater effect on earnings than one's neighborhood. The second result is less so, however. Indeed, the move seemed to reduce the level of anxiety and unease families felt, and as a result families showed improved mental and physical health. This time, the community context markedly affected the well-being of individual people and families.
Finally the Wilson Quarterly piece sought to show how mental illnesses such as schizophrenia are not simply the result of genetic time-bombs turning on and ruining a person's life; rather, the way such illnesses are assessed, understood, treated makes a big difference in how frequently cases arise, and how functional patients tend to be. For example, it's been shown that Indian families "don’t treat people with schizophrenia as if they have a soul-destroying illness." Interestingly, Indian schizophrenia patients tend to function better than those in the West.
Also of interest is the way people in certain social contexts are more prone to schizophrenia than others. According to the piece, "The most remarkable recent epidemiologic finding relates to migrants: Some fall ill with schizophrenia not only at higher rates than the compatriots they leave behind, but at higher rates than the natives of the countries to which they have come. Dark-skinned migrants to Europe, mostly from the Caribbean or sub-Saharan Africa, are at risk of developing schizophrenia at rates as much as 10 times higher than those of white Europeans." Evidence like this suggests that any explanation of the disease relying solely on genetic factors is probably missing something.
And to my mind, it is perhaps no accident that social context not only helps those with the disease (such as in India) cope and live, but also plays a role in determining who develops the condition in the first place (such as with migrants).
Taken together, these three pieces seem to suggest some ways in which our community context shapes our lives. Things like social media can change the way we interact with friends, such that instead of driving into town to hang out, people choose to chat online instead. In addition, where we live may not make us materially more wealthy, but it can positively or negatively affect our mental and physical health. Factors which affect how secure we feel now, and how confident we are of future security seem to make a real difference. And finally, how our community understands and treats those with mental illness can play an big role in how functional those such illnesses can live their lives.
Something to think about perhaps.
Happy Fall (or Spring for our southern hemisphere friends) everyone :)
According to this piece from The New York Times, families who moved out of low-income housing using federal vouchers didn't earn more money, but they experienced levels of happiness equal to those who made $13,000 more a year.
And according to this piece in The Wilson Quarterly, mental illnesses like schizophrenia appear to be brought on and/or exacerbated by social context and community.
While reading this past week, I began feeling as though these pieces were all hinting at something, but on which I couldn't quite place a finger. How are they related? And what is a common thread running through them all?
On a broad level, I think they relate with respect to the way community affects the way people feel and interact with their world. In the Economist piece, a study by the University of Michigan is cited which shows that where Internet use is high among young people it is more common to get one's drivers' license later (or indeed, not at all). In another survey, it was found that, "...young people increasingly view cars as appliances not aspirations, and say that social media give them the access to their world that would once have been associated with cars." This is interesting, because it shows how having an online community affects the way people interact off-line. If one can talk and share over the Internet, perhaps there is less need to get in a car and see them.
In the New York Times piece, people who moved out of low-income neighborhoods into more mixed-income neighborhoods didn't see a rise in their earnings, but they did become happier; indeed, as happy as a family which made $13,000 more a year. The first result is perhaps unsurprising, since education is believed to have a far greater effect on earnings than one's neighborhood. The second result is less so, however. Indeed, the move seemed to reduce the level of anxiety and unease families felt, and as a result families showed improved mental and physical health. This time, the community context markedly affected the well-being of individual people and families.
Finally the Wilson Quarterly piece sought to show how mental illnesses such as schizophrenia are not simply the result of genetic time-bombs turning on and ruining a person's life; rather, the way such illnesses are assessed, understood, treated makes a big difference in how frequently cases arise, and how functional patients tend to be. For example, it's been shown that Indian families "don’t treat people with schizophrenia as if they have a soul-destroying illness." Interestingly, Indian schizophrenia patients tend to function better than those in the West.
Also of interest is the way people in certain social contexts are more prone to schizophrenia than others. According to the piece, "The most remarkable recent epidemiologic finding relates to migrants: Some fall ill with schizophrenia not only at higher rates than the compatriots they leave behind, but at higher rates than the natives of the countries to which they have come. Dark-skinned migrants to Europe, mostly from the Caribbean or sub-Saharan Africa, are at risk of developing schizophrenia at rates as much as 10 times higher than those of white Europeans." Evidence like this suggests that any explanation of the disease relying solely on genetic factors is probably missing something.
And to my mind, it is perhaps no accident that social context not only helps those with the disease (such as in India) cope and live, but also plays a role in determining who develops the condition in the first place (such as with migrants).
Taken together, these three pieces seem to suggest some ways in which our community context shapes our lives. Things like social media can change the way we interact with friends, such that instead of driving into town to hang out, people choose to chat online instead. In addition, where we live may not make us materially more wealthy, but it can positively or negatively affect our mental and physical health. Factors which affect how secure we feel now, and how confident we are of future security seem to make a real difference. And finally, how our community understands and treats those with mental illness can play an big role in how functional those such illnesses can live their lives.
Something to think about perhaps.
Happy Fall (or Spring for our southern hemisphere friends) everyone :)
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Thanks Pia Sundhage
Despite the fact that I had to wake up early this morning, I stayed up last night to watch the US Women's National Soccer Team play Australia in a post-Olympic friendly. I probably would have done this anyway, since it's not everyday the national team plays, and the US senior womens' team is amazing. But for last night's match, however, I had greater incentive to stay awake: it was Pia Sundhage's last as manager of the US team.
I was sad but not entirely surprised when on 1 September it was announced that Ms. Sundhage would be stepping down. Rumors had circulated for a time that she wished, if possible, to take a position in her native land of Sweden. Thankfully she will get the opportunity when on 1 December her tenure as manager of the Swedish Womens' National Team begins. With the European Championships coming up next year, Sweden as the host will be under a lot of pressure to do well. It is my humble opinion that they now have one of the best coaches in the world to help them toward that end.
I'm happy that Pia can go home and take up a new, exciting challenge, but I'm also happy with the legacy she leaves behind. Not only did her tenure prove remarkably successful (among other things, reaching 3 major finals and winning two of them); her management of a talented but personality-filled team helped raise awareness of how exciting womens' soccer can be.
Furthermore, and perhaps most importantly, her warmth, passion, and intellect demonstrate what can happen when positive emotions inspire others to believe in themselves and be great; that a manager doesn't have to be a grouch or a tactical wizard to bring out the best in his or her players. Indeed, it may well take such inspired emotions to make and keep"the beautiful game" beautiful.
This is a big reason why I watch womens' soccer. The best teams in the world today are not just physically strong or technically brilliant; they are, but without a doubt they are also fired through with a spirit of belief that is heartening to watch. For whatever reason I just don't see that as much in the mens' game today, though it does happen sometimes.
As a fan I honestly believe this inspired quality is one of womens' soccer's greatest strengths today, and Pia Sundhage has embodied that spirit as manager of the US team. By doing so she not only made a great team even better, but also leaves a powerful example of what can be achieved when we believe in ourselves and others.
So thanks Pia Sundhage for all that you've done, and good luck in Sweden.
I was sad but not entirely surprised when on 1 September it was announced that Ms. Sundhage would be stepping down. Rumors had circulated for a time that she wished, if possible, to take a position in her native land of Sweden. Thankfully she will get the opportunity when on 1 December her tenure as manager of the Swedish Womens' National Team begins. With the European Championships coming up next year, Sweden as the host will be under a lot of pressure to do well. It is my humble opinion that they now have one of the best coaches in the world to help them toward that end.
I'm happy that Pia can go home and take up a new, exciting challenge, but I'm also happy with the legacy she leaves behind. Not only did her tenure prove remarkably successful (among other things, reaching 3 major finals and winning two of them); her management of a talented but personality-filled team helped raise awareness of how exciting womens' soccer can be.
Furthermore, and perhaps most importantly, her warmth, passion, and intellect demonstrate what can happen when positive emotions inspire others to believe in themselves and be great; that a manager doesn't have to be a grouch or a tactical wizard to bring out the best in his or her players. Indeed, it may well take such inspired emotions to make and keep"the beautiful game" beautiful.
This is a big reason why I watch womens' soccer. The best teams in the world today are not just physically strong or technically brilliant; they are, but without a doubt they are also fired through with a spirit of belief that is heartening to watch. For whatever reason I just don't see that as much in the mens' game today, though it does happen sometimes.
As a fan I honestly believe this inspired quality is one of womens' soccer's greatest strengths today, and Pia Sundhage has embodied that spirit as manager of the US team. By doing so she not only made a great team even better, but also leaves a powerful example of what can be achieved when we believe in ourselves and others.
So thanks Pia Sundhage for all that you've done, and good luck in Sweden.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Training Update IX (MCM): The Final Stretch
43 says, 17 hours to go...
With under 50 days to go until the race, we're in the final stretch now. With that in mind, I've been shifting away from the track work which proved so successful earlier in the program, and begun embracing more marathon-specific training.
This involves a few changes to what I've been doing.
First, I've moved a large bulk of my walking regimen away from forest trails and toward the road. That doesn't mean I never walk on trails anymore, but it does mean more time on paved surfaces, which is important because the course over which the race is run is also paved.
Another thing I've done involves the inclusion of longer, sustained runs on my days off from work. Whereas before any running I did also involved a substantial amount of walking, now I'm getting in actual sustained runs. This is important, because it is my hope to run the entire marathon distance. It may not work out that way, but practicing it could improve my chances. In training for my first marathon, I hardly ran at all outside a once-weekly track-workout. Indeed, my "longest" continuous run leading up to that race was a 5-miler I did with Dante and Dan not long before the race. In spite of this dearth of running, I still managed to run the first 15 miles of the race, as well as portions of the last 11, and the whole of mile 26. Taking that into account, I'm making a better effort this time around to get in some more continuous running as the race approaches. In this way, I hope to survive the rigors of my job as well as those of the race. That is my hope at least.
Today I ran a little over 55 minutes on the treadmill, using the incline controls to mimic in miniature the terrain of the race course. So just as the first third of the race involves several climbs, including a rather steep, 200ft climb not far from the start, the first third of today's run focused on hills. Following that, I gradually increased speed over a long flat stretch, which is how much the rest of the race appears. Occasionally a small climb appears during this stretch, so I added a climb or two in the midst of this gradual increase of speed. Finally a rather short but steep climb appears at the end of the race, so I finished with a steep climb at the maximum speed reached over the course.
I felt good doing all this, and would like to extend the effort next week as a way of becoming ever more adapted to the coming race and its challenges. In the mean time, it'll be doubly important to keep a healthy work/training balance, since the date of the race is not far off now, and a serious illness or injury could prove difficult. With that said, I'm really enjoying the training these days. I feel stronger every week, and look forward to the day when myself and 30,000 others begin our long romp through the streets of Washington, D.C. Only 43 days and 17 hours now. Let's keep at it!
Happy Friday, friends :)
With under 50 days to go until the race, we're in the final stretch now. With that in mind, I've been shifting away from the track work which proved so successful earlier in the program, and begun embracing more marathon-specific training.
This involves a few changes to what I've been doing.
First, I've moved a large bulk of my walking regimen away from forest trails and toward the road. That doesn't mean I never walk on trails anymore, but it does mean more time on paved surfaces, which is important because the course over which the race is run is also paved.
Another thing I've done involves the inclusion of longer, sustained runs on my days off from work. Whereas before any running I did also involved a substantial amount of walking, now I'm getting in actual sustained runs. This is important, because it is my hope to run the entire marathon distance. It may not work out that way, but practicing it could improve my chances. In training for my first marathon, I hardly ran at all outside a once-weekly track-workout. Indeed, my "longest" continuous run leading up to that race was a 5-miler I did with Dante and Dan not long before the race. In spite of this dearth of running, I still managed to run the first 15 miles of the race, as well as portions of the last 11, and the whole of mile 26. Taking that into account, I'm making a better effort this time around to get in some more continuous running as the race approaches. In this way, I hope to survive the rigors of my job as well as those of the race. That is my hope at least.
Today I ran a little over 55 minutes on the treadmill, using the incline controls to mimic in miniature the terrain of the race course. So just as the first third of the race involves several climbs, including a rather steep, 200ft climb not far from the start, the first third of today's run focused on hills. Following that, I gradually increased speed over a long flat stretch, which is how much the rest of the race appears. Occasionally a small climb appears during this stretch, so I added a climb or two in the midst of this gradual increase of speed. Finally a rather short but steep climb appears at the end of the race, so I finished with a steep climb at the maximum speed reached over the course.
I felt good doing all this, and would like to extend the effort next week as a way of becoming ever more adapted to the coming race and its challenges. In the mean time, it'll be doubly important to keep a healthy work/training balance, since the date of the race is not far off now, and a serious illness or injury could prove difficult. With that said, I'm really enjoying the training these days. I feel stronger every week, and look forward to the day when myself and 30,000 others begin our long romp through the streets of Washington, D.C. Only 43 days and 17 hours now. Let's keep at it!
Happy Friday, friends :)
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
7 Stimulating Books
The English philosopher Francis Bacon (1561-1626) once suggested that "Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested." I like this line, perhaps because it seems to illustrate the way how some books really hold our attention while others do not. Frequently I use the word "stimulating" to describe those "few" books "to be chewed and digested," and credit them with enriching my experiences in life. As such I thought it might be nice to compile a brief list of books I've found stimulating at some point in my life. This isn't an exhaustive list, and is likely biased toward more recently encountered material. Nevertheless I think it could prove a fruitful exercise, so let's dive in and have a look.
In no particular order:
1.) "The Great Divergence: China Europe, and the Making of the Modern World Economy" (2000)
By: Kenneth Pomeranz
I encountered this book through my friend Laura, who was taking a pre-modern history class our sophomore year of college. One night we were doing homework together in the library, when she began describing this book which contended that coal and colonies provided the decisive cause of European "divergence" during the Industrial Revolution. Utterly puzzled, I remember saying something along the lines of, "Laura, that can't be right, the author has it all backwards: coal and colonies were the result of industrialization, not the cause.
Months later I borrowed that book, and well, my mind was blown. A professor of history at the University of California Irvine, Dr. Pomeranz suggests that leading up to the Industrial Revolution several areas of the globe (parts of northwestern Europe, the Indian sub-continent, and pockets in China) seemed poised to begin industrializing in earnest. That those areas of northwest Europe (such as England, and to a lesser extent France and the Netherlands) took off while those in India and China did not has long puzzled historians, particularly since some areas in China seemed better prepared for such a transition than say, England. This marked change is at the heart of "the great divergence," where parts of Europe became highly industrialized while much of the rest of the world "diverged" down another path and did not.
In the past some have argued this divergence occurred because of an innate "racial" superiority of people of "northwest European extraction." Others have argued that technology, law-codes, and/or cultural ethics of hard work provided Europeans with their advantage. Pomeranz takes a different approach, arguing that the presence of coal and new-world colonies provided both the energy and untapped-hinterlands needed to drive the new industrializing economy. Advantages in excess land capacity, new-world resources such as timber, precious metals, and sugar, and the energy-rich and easily extractable sources of coal in England all provided the means by which a relatively obscure corner of Europe became the driving engine of the world economy for 200 years.
Many have disputed Pomeranz, or have sought to add further nuance to his argument. But for me his book radically altered the way I perceive the rise and decline of tribes and states in world. And while he might not have the last word on what caused the great divergence, Dr. Pomeranz certainly got me thinking about it in a new way.
2.) "Lore of Running, 4th edt." (2003) and "Waterlogged" (2012)
By: Tim Noakes, MD
I combined these two because they are in my mind intimately related. Both works seek to bring the latest in exercise research to the lay-person trying to apply that research in training. Along the way, Dr. Noakes frequently disputes popular theories of exercise performance which do not fit with the available evidence. From his work, I have learned, among other things, about the known effects (long and short term) of overtraining, the available evidence of peaking in performance, and hydration during long endurance events. As important is Dr. Noakes' historical approach, which traces particular ideas in exercise performance from an early date up to the present. His history of training theory in "Lore of Running," and the history of hydration advice in "Waterlogged" both serve as excellent examples of the value in rehashing what has been tried or thought before. If nothing else, such historical digressions provide a good place to begin one's own intellectual journey.
3.) "The European Reformations" (1996)
By: Carter Lindberg
I read this book for a class in college called "European Religious Wars," and again for a class I sat but did not officially take called "The Reformation." The thing I found most thought-provoking in this book were the clear explanations of theology, and how those theological ideas shaped and were shaped by the historical, intellectual, and social context of the Reformation era. Indeed, I've yet to find a better work of history that so effectively explains theology and how it relates to the historical subject.
4.) "Daniels' Running Formula" (1998)
By: Jack Daniels, PhD
This is a staple in the modern coaching literature for distance runners, and it's a good one. In it, Daniels provides a series of tables one can employ to develop a training plan for races from "800m to the marathon." In addition, he stresses the individual training needs, as well as the need to focus on the process of training rather than simply the results of training.
Perhaps the most stimulating aspect of Daniels' book involves the economics of distance training. The basic idea here is that, as when employing economic capital, distance runners should seek to maximize their "running capital" assessing their training needs. In short, the idea is to achieve the maximum benefit from training for the least amount of effort. This involves the employment of stress and recovery, which when combined effectively produce the most fitness gains with the least amount of wear. Ideally a new training stress should be milked for all its benefits before a further stress is added. Finally, the fitness benefits from these new stresses appear to obey the law of diminishing returns, such that each additional amount of stress provides increasingly less additional benefit; conversely, each additional stress also increases the chance of developing an injury. Finding a middle ground between these two curves which effectively meets one's needs and risk-tolerance seems to be at the heart of Daniels' coaching philosophy.
5.) "How to Live: Or A Life of Montaigne in One Question and Twenty Attempts at an Answer" (2010)
By: Sarah Blakewell
This charming biography of the 16th century French philosopher Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) is a creative, fresh way of exploring a person's life, their ideas, and their times. Broken down into 20 thematic chapters, Blakewell provides a rich tapestry of detail, argument, and digression. I particularly enjoyed the way she describes the changing perceptions of Montaigne over time; how in one period he was hailed a great hero of thought, while in another he was loathed as a great deceiver of men. Reading this book encouraged me to read some of Montaigne's Essays myself, and so far it's proved an interesting experience.
6.) "Running Within" (1999)
By: Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott
Originally I borrowed this book from my roommate in college, whose dad left it with him after helping us move in for XC camp. My old roommate never went in for books like this, but I absolutely loved it.
At its root, I think "Running Within" is a book about cultivating healthy attitudes and mental habits related to exercise and performance. Following the opening section (where the concepts are introduced), each chapter concludes with a list of visualization exercises and positive affirmations. The idea is to use these exercises as a way of cultivating a positive mindset while in the midst of difficulty (ex: in a race, a workout, or while recovering from an injury).
It's a touching book, and provoked a lot of thinking on my part about what I want to do when I enter a race, or do anything in life really. One friend called it a "hippie book" when I described it to him, but I liked it a lot.
7.) "The Pillars of the Earth" (1989) and "World Without End" (2007)
By: Ken Follett
I combined these because they're sequels, and quite related. They're both novels of historical fiction, taking place during the late Middle Ages. Among other things, the first details the construction of a Gothic cathedral in England, and the second deals with the Black Plague. Their stories are rich, multi-layered, and laced with great detail.
One feature I liked about both books was the way it intimately portrayed the boom-and-bust cycle of economic activity in the towns involved in the story. Changes in rule-of-law, incentives, pricing, and demand all greatly altered the fortunes of the characters in each tale, which provides a fascinating background over which they seek to adapt and move on.
Some other stimulating books include:
"On War" (1832) by Carl von Clausewitz
"The Confessions of St. Augustine" (398) by Augustine of Hippo
"The Thirty Years' War" (1939) by Georges Pages
"A History of Western Philosophy" (1945) by Bertrand Russel
"The Ideological Origins of Nazi Imperialism" (1989) by Woodruff Smith
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
In no particular order:
1.) "The Great Divergence: China Europe, and the Making of the Modern World Economy" (2000)
By: Kenneth Pomeranz
I encountered this book through my friend Laura, who was taking a pre-modern history class our sophomore year of college. One night we were doing homework together in the library, when she began describing this book which contended that coal and colonies provided the decisive cause of European "divergence" during the Industrial Revolution. Utterly puzzled, I remember saying something along the lines of, "Laura, that can't be right, the author has it all backwards: coal and colonies were the result of industrialization, not the cause.
Months later I borrowed that book, and well, my mind was blown. A professor of history at the University of California Irvine, Dr. Pomeranz suggests that leading up to the Industrial Revolution several areas of the globe (parts of northwestern Europe, the Indian sub-continent, and pockets in China) seemed poised to begin industrializing in earnest. That those areas of northwest Europe (such as England, and to a lesser extent France and the Netherlands) took off while those in India and China did not has long puzzled historians, particularly since some areas in China seemed better prepared for such a transition than say, England. This marked change is at the heart of "the great divergence," where parts of Europe became highly industrialized while much of the rest of the world "diverged" down another path and did not.
In the past some have argued this divergence occurred because of an innate "racial" superiority of people of "northwest European extraction." Others have argued that technology, law-codes, and/or cultural ethics of hard work provided Europeans with their advantage. Pomeranz takes a different approach, arguing that the presence of coal and new-world colonies provided both the energy and untapped-hinterlands needed to drive the new industrializing economy. Advantages in excess land capacity, new-world resources such as timber, precious metals, and sugar, and the energy-rich and easily extractable sources of coal in England all provided the means by which a relatively obscure corner of Europe became the driving engine of the world economy for 200 years.
Many have disputed Pomeranz, or have sought to add further nuance to his argument. But for me his book radically altered the way I perceive the rise and decline of tribes and states in world. And while he might not have the last word on what caused the great divergence, Dr. Pomeranz certainly got me thinking about it in a new way.
2.) "Lore of Running, 4th edt." (2003) and "Waterlogged" (2012)
By: Tim Noakes, MD
I combined these two because they are in my mind intimately related. Both works seek to bring the latest in exercise research to the lay-person trying to apply that research in training. Along the way, Dr. Noakes frequently disputes popular theories of exercise performance which do not fit with the available evidence. From his work, I have learned, among other things, about the known effects (long and short term) of overtraining, the available evidence of peaking in performance, and hydration during long endurance events. As important is Dr. Noakes' historical approach, which traces particular ideas in exercise performance from an early date up to the present. His history of training theory in "Lore of Running," and the history of hydration advice in "Waterlogged" both serve as excellent examples of the value in rehashing what has been tried or thought before. If nothing else, such historical digressions provide a good place to begin one's own intellectual journey.
3.) "The European Reformations" (1996)
By: Carter Lindberg
I read this book for a class in college called "European Religious Wars," and again for a class I sat but did not officially take called "The Reformation." The thing I found most thought-provoking in this book were the clear explanations of theology, and how those theological ideas shaped and were shaped by the historical, intellectual, and social context of the Reformation era. Indeed, I've yet to find a better work of history that so effectively explains theology and how it relates to the historical subject.
4.) "Daniels' Running Formula" (1998)
By: Jack Daniels, PhD
This is a staple in the modern coaching literature for distance runners, and it's a good one. In it, Daniels provides a series of tables one can employ to develop a training plan for races from "800m to the marathon." In addition, he stresses the individual training needs, as well as the need to focus on the process of training rather than simply the results of training.
Perhaps the most stimulating aspect of Daniels' book involves the economics of distance training. The basic idea here is that, as when employing economic capital, distance runners should seek to maximize their "running capital" assessing their training needs. In short, the idea is to achieve the maximum benefit from training for the least amount of effort. This involves the employment of stress and recovery, which when combined effectively produce the most fitness gains with the least amount of wear. Ideally a new training stress should be milked for all its benefits before a further stress is added. Finally, the fitness benefits from these new stresses appear to obey the law of diminishing returns, such that each additional amount of stress provides increasingly less additional benefit; conversely, each additional stress also increases the chance of developing an injury. Finding a middle ground between these two curves which effectively meets one's needs and risk-tolerance seems to be at the heart of Daniels' coaching philosophy.
5.) "How to Live: Or A Life of Montaigne in One Question and Twenty Attempts at an Answer" (2010)
By: Sarah Blakewell
This charming biography of the 16th century French philosopher Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) is a creative, fresh way of exploring a person's life, their ideas, and their times. Broken down into 20 thematic chapters, Blakewell provides a rich tapestry of detail, argument, and digression. I particularly enjoyed the way she describes the changing perceptions of Montaigne over time; how in one period he was hailed a great hero of thought, while in another he was loathed as a great deceiver of men. Reading this book encouraged me to read some of Montaigne's Essays myself, and so far it's proved an interesting experience.
6.) "Running Within" (1999)
By: Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott
Originally I borrowed this book from my roommate in college, whose dad left it with him after helping us move in for XC camp. My old roommate never went in for books like this, but I absolutely loved it.
At its root, I think "Running Within" is a book about cultivating healthy attitudes and mental habits related to exercise and performance. Following the opening section (where the concepts are introduced), each chapter concludes with a list of visualization exercises and positive affirmations. The idea is to use these exercises as a way of cultivating a positive mindset while in the midst of difficulty (ex: in a race, a workout, or while recovering from an injury).
It's a touching book, and provoked a lot of thinking on my part about what I want to do when I enter a race, or do anything in life really. One friend called it a "hippie book" when I described it to him, but I liked it a lot.
7.) "The Pillars of the Earth" (1989) and "World Without End" (2007)
By: Ken Follett
I combined these because they're sequels, and quite related. They're both novels of historical fiction, taking place during the late Middle Ages. Among other things, the first details the construction of a Gothic cathedral in England, and the second deals with the Black Plague. Their stories are rich, multi-layered, and laced with great detail.
One feature I liked about both books was the way it intimately portrayed the boom-and-bust cycle of economic activity in the towns involved in the story. Changes in rule-of-law, incentives, pricing, and demand all greatly altered the fortunes of the characters in each tale, which provides a fascinating background over which they seek to adapt and move on.
Some other stimulating books include:
"On War" (1832) by Carl von Clausewitz
"The Confessions of St. Augustine" (398) by Augustine of Hippo
"The Thirty Years' War" (1939) by Georges Pages
"A History of Western Philosophy" (1945) by Bertrand Russel
"The Ideological Origins of Nazi Imperialism" (1989) by Woodruff Smith
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Friday, September 7, 2012
Training Update VIII: Getting sick and feeling better
50 days, 13 hours to go...
Something happened this week that hasn't happened all year...I got sick. I'm not sure what it is precisely, but after a few hectic days early in the week of humidity, rain, and a stressful forced march to get to class on time, I began feeling under the weather on Wednesday. Thursday proved the worst day, and I woke up this morning still feeling a bit peaked.
My first instinct was to take off for the day and not worry about any training, but after having some breakfast I felt well enough to attempt a little experiment.
Friday's have typically involved a track workout, but I didn't feel up to that today. So instead I elected to try some hill-intervals on the treadmill and see where it went.
A treadmill has several advantages when attempting to train when sick: you're always close to help if your illness takes a bad turn; you have considerable control over how hard and long the exercise bout will last; and generally the speed at which you run is slower than during regular running (at least it is with me).
The primary disadvantage of using a treadmill when sick is the lack of convective cooling which usually occurs during regular running; in other words, you don't have the "wind" generated by your forward motion blowing across your skin to cool the body and aid in sweat evaporation. As such one typically becomes very hot and sweaty very fast when running on a treadmill at room temperature. The lack of convective cooling can make usual training paces feel more difficult.
Thankfully, I wasn't looking to go too fast today, and kept things easy (my preferred effort ;)...). The idea was to try running for 5-10 minutes, and if I felt okay then to continue until I reached 5km. I did several hill intervals along the way--one of them up to 8% incline--because the first third of the marathon course involves several climbs, some as high as 200ft and a deal longer to the top. As such, today's run sought to develop adaptations necessary for climbing several hills in succession. This wasn't the first time during this build-up I've done this on a run, but today was one of the first where it provided the primary focus. Luckily it wasn't too hard, and was something I could do while not feeling great.
Interestingly I felt better after the workout, and was able to go on a long "thinking walk" later in the afternoon. I've noticed that sometimes it happens that going for a run can make the symptoms of feeling sick go away. Of course there are other times when it makes those symptoms worse (I remember one 8km race with the flu in particular). That's why if I feel up to it, I'll try going for run even if I feel under the weather. If 5 or 10 minutes go by and I still feel like crap (or worse), then I take it as a sign that today needs to be a day of rest.
It's evening now, and while I feel a bit hungry I'm also feeling much better than yesterday. I didn't get to do a track workout this week, but that isn't overly concerning. I managed a fair bit of volume earlier in the week, and feel good about things generally. So we'll give it a try next Friday and see how things go. Only 50 days, 13 hours to go!
Happy Friday, friends :)
Something happened this week that hasn't happened all year...I got sick. I'm not sure what it is precisely, but after a few hectic days early in the week of humidity, rain, and a stressful forced march to get to class on time, I began feeling under the weather on Wednesday. Thursday proved the worst day, and I woke up this morning still feeling a bit peaked.
My first instinct was to take off for the day and not worry about any training, but after having some breakfast I felt well enough to attempt a little experiment.
Friday's have typically involved a track workout, but I didn't feel up to that today. So instead I elected to try some hill-intervals on the treadmill and see where it went.
A treadmill has several advantages when attempting to train when sick: you're always close to help if your illness takes a bad turn; you have considerable control over how hard and long the exercise bout will last; and generally the speed at which you run is slower than during regular running (at least it is with me).
The primary disadvantage of using a treadmill when sick is the lack of convective cooling which usually occurs during regular running; in other words, you don't have the "wind" generated by your forward motion blowing across your skin to cool the body and aid in sweat evaporation. As such one typically becomes very hot and sweaty very fast when running on a treadmill at room temperature. The lack of convective cooling can make usual training paces feel more difficult.
Thankfully, I wasn't looking to go too fast today, and kept things easy (my preferred effort ;)...). The idea was to try running for 5-10 minutes, and if I felt okay then to continue until I reached 5km. I did several hill intervals along the way--one of them up to 8% incline--because the first third of the marathon course involves several climbs, some as high as 200ft and a deal longer to the top. As such, today's run sought to develop adaptations necessary for climbing several hills in succession. This wasn't the first time during this build-up I've done this on a run, but today was one of the first where it provided the primary focus. Luckily it wasn't too hard, and was something I could do while not feeling great.
Interestingly I felt better after the workout, and was able to go on a long "thinking walk" later in the afternoon. I've noticed that sometimes it happens that going for a run can make the symptoms of feeling sick go away. Of course there are other times when it makes those symptoms worse (I remember one 8km race with the flu in particular). That's why if I feel up to it, I'll try going for run even if I feel under the weather. If 5 or 10 minutes go by and I still feel like crap (or worse), then I take it as a sign that today needs to be a day of rest.
It's evening now, and while I feel a bit hungry I'm also feeling much better than yesterday. I didn't get to do a track workout this week, but that isn't overly concerning. I managed a fair bit of volume earlier in the week, and feel good about things generally. So we'll give it a try next Friday and see how things go. Only 50 days, 13 hours to go!
Happy Friday, friends :)
Thursday, September 6, 2012
A Memorial to Lindsay Budnick (1989-2012)
I was shocked and saddened to learn this afternoon that one of my old German classmates, Lindsay Budnick, was killed last night in an automobile accident in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. She was 23 years old.
After sharing German 101 and 102 I almost never encountered Lindsay again. As with many classmates, we went our own ways after freshman year and that was that. This is unfortunate perhaps, because one never knows where those separate ways will lead.
As best I know Lindsay's led to North Carolina, where she participated in the Teach For America program in Rocky Mount. According to a press release, in addition to her service through TFA she became actively involved with the Lakeland Theatre Company, a non-profit cultural arts center in Littleton, NC.
This doesn't surprise me frankly, because Lindsay always seemed involved in everything. Furthermore, one of the things I remember while taking German with Lindsay is that we were frequently paired to act-out dialogues we wrote in class. These usually turned into desperate improvisations (what looks good on paper can sound awful in performance), which once memorably produced the following exchange:
Lindsay: "Warum ist das Wetter heute so seltsam?"
(Why is the weather so strange today?)
Me: "Weil...um...weil ich es regnen machen?"
(Because...um...because I made it rain?)
Lindsay: "Du kannst es regnen?"
(You can make it rain?)
Me: "Um...ja, manchmal. Kannst du nicht?"
(Um...yes, sometimes. Can't you?)
Lindsay: "Ja, natürlich!"
(Yes, naturally!)
I think our professor enjoyed the exchange but found fault in that, like half-a-penny, it made no sense (cents). It didn't matter though, because ultimately everyone was all smiles at the end of the day, which really is a victory in and of itself.
But that is the extent of what I remember about Lindsay, though based on the outpouring of thoughts on Facebook I can only imagine the memories others are presently reliving. It is so sad to hear of someone so young and full of positive spirit pass while their life and gifts enriched the world so much. Frankly, we need more people like Lindsay. We need more people who give themselves over to the betterment of those in need, particular in such times as we now find ourselves. It is not an easy task, but a necessary one, and in the time I knew Lindsay she cut a fine example of how that might be done.
So let us remember Lindsay, each in our own way. Let us remember a kind woman whose gifts enriched the lives of so many. And let us go forth from this day carrying our memories of her close to our heart, the better that they may give us guidance and strength as we seek to emulate her example in our daily lives. Thank you Lindsay. You will be missed.
Peace
After sharing German 101 and 102 I almost never encountered Lindsay again. As with many classmates, we went our own ways after freshman year and that was that. This is unfortunate perhaps, because one never knows where those separate ways will lead.
As best I know Lindsay's led to North Carolina, where she participated in the Teach For America program in Rocky Mount. According to a press release, in addition to her service through TFA she became actively involved with the Lakeland Theatre Company, a non-profit cultural arts center in Littleton, NC.
This doesn't surprise me frankly, because Lindsay always seemed involved in everything. Furthermore, one of the things I remember while taking German with Lindsay is that we were frequently paired to act-out dialogues we wrote in class. These usually turned into desperate improvisations (what looks good on paper can sound awful in performance), which once memorably produced the following exchange:
Lindsay: "Warum ist das Wetter heute so seltsam?"
(Why is the weather so strange today?)
Me: "Weil...um...weil ich es regnen machen?"
(Because...um...because I made it rain?)
Lindsay: "Du kannst es regnen?"
(You can make it rain?)
Me: "Um...ja, manchmal. Kannst du nicht?"
(Um...yes, sometimes. Can't you?)
Lindsay: "Ja, natürlich!"
(Yes, naturally!)
I think our professor enjoyed the exchange but found fault in that, like half-a-penny, it made no sense (cents). It didn't matter though, because ultimately everyone was all smiles at the end of the day, which really is a victory in and of itself.
But that is the extent of what I remember about Lindsay, though based on the outpouring of thoughts on Facebook I can only imagine the memories others are presently reliving. It is so sad to hear of someone so young and full of positive spirit pass while their life and gifts enriched the world so much. Frankly, we need more people like Lindsay. We need more people who give themselves over to the betterment of those in need, particular in such times as we now find ourselves. It is not an easy task, but a necessary one, and in the time I knew Lindsay she cut a fine example of how that might be done.
So let us remember Lindsay, each in our own way. Let us remember a kind woman whose gifts enriched the lives of so many. And let us go forth from this day carrying our memories of her close to our heart, the better that they may give us guidance and strength as we seek to emulate her example in our daily lives. Thank you Lindsay. You will be missed.
Peace
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Hydration and Exercise: Some thoughts on Tim Noakes' book "Waterlogged"
I finished Tim Noakes' recent book "Waterlogged: The Serious Problem of Overhydration in Endurance Sports," over the weekend, and thought I'd share a few thoughts on the matter. For a thorough break-down of the book's core ideas, see this excellent review by Joe Uhan of irunfar.com.
The basic premise of Dr. Noakes' book (and much of his other research) involves the capacity of healthy human beings to subconsciously self-regulate when under duress. In other words, the human body is not a "catastrophe" waiting to fall apart when its physiological limits are reached (a "brain-less" mode of exercise), but rather a regulated system which makes allowances based on a reading of its situation at any given moment.
In a running race, this model suggests that the subconscious brain (sometimes called the "Brain-based" or "Central Governor" model) devises a pacing strategy that allows you to finish the race quickly, but without killing yourself in the process. Everything, from your own physiology, the relative importance of the race, and the environmental conditions all factor in to the constantly adjusting calculation. That catastrophes do occasionally happen in sport suggests it is possible that humans can override the governor, but at a high cost.
With that said, the regulatory model discussed in "Waterlogged" is concerned not with physiological limits in exercise performance, but hydration. To my mind, Dr. Noakes makes a compelling case that the best way to take fluids during exercise is to trust your thirst and drink only when thirsty.
This is not a novel idea--it was typical advise once--but it is contrary to what many today seem to believe. Such dogmas include that we should drink ahead of thirst, because thirst is not an accurate gauge of our body's water needs. Furthermore, we should drink something with electrolytes (like Gatorade) to replenish those we lose through sweat. Athletes with "salty sweat," or those with salt stains on their skin at the end of a run are at particular risk, because they lose sodium at a faster rate than most. And if your urine is anything but clear, you're dangerously dehydrated and need to drink more immediately.
According to the research cited by Dr. Noakes, all of these claims are false:
The only symptom of dehydration is the sensation of thirst: if you don't feel thirsty, you're probably not dehydrated.
Drinking an electrolyte solution while exercising probably won't improve performance (interestingly, ingesting a carbohydrate beverage will), and it won't protect against low-sodium medical conditions like Exercise Associated Hyponatremia (EAH) or Exercise Associated Hyponatremic Encephalopathy (EAHE). The only way to reverse EAH or EAHE is an injection of a concentrated hypertonic solution of 3-5% saline. By comparison, Gatorade (and any tolerable drink) is hypotonic, which means it has a sodium concentration of less than 0.9%. In other words, when it comes to electrolyte balance, drinking water or Gatorade amount to the same thing. And according to the research, the primary way people reach such low blood sodium concentrations (135mmols or lower to be classified with EAH) isn't by losing sodium through sweat, respiration, or urine, but by drinking far more than one's body needs or can handle.
So-called "salty sweat" and "salt stains" do not indicate an abnormal sweat sodium concentration all the time, but rather that the person has more sodium at the time than their body needs; salt stains on the skin are just excess salt, nothing more. It seems that sodium is a highly regulated resource in the body, and sweat and urine loses are adjusted quickly based on the amount of sodium in one's diet.
Finally, the color and frequency of one's urine is not a clear indication of hydration. Athletes with "excessive anti-diuretic hormone" (a condition known as Syndrome of Inappropriate ADH secretion) can have highly concentrated (dark) urine yet be dangerously overhydrated.
These are just a few of the points raised in the book, but the message seems clear: despite what many say (including the sports drink industry), current science suggests that drinking to thirst not only yields excellent performance (the winners of most races are nearly always the most dehydrated by the end), but also protects athletes from actual and dangerous medical conditions like EAH and EAHE. It's okay to lose weight during exercise, because according to the research blood sodium osmolality--not body-weight--is the regulated variable in exercising humans. If this is indeed true, then weight-loss during exercise is a necessary step in maintaining homeostasis. Is it any surprise that people who drink to thirst not only lose weight during exercise, but also see their blood sodium concentrations rise?
"Waterlogged" is a highly stimulating book, and I encourage you all to give it a read and judge the evidence and argument for yourself. I feel very fortunate I didn't killed myself during my first marathon by trying to "stay ahead of thirst," and hope to use the knowledge acquired from this book in training for the next the race this October. I may not run faster, but hopefully my chances of ending up in a medical tent are greatly reduced. Something to think about anyway.
Happy Wednesday, friends :)
The basic premise of Dr. Noakes' book (and much of his other research) involves the capacity of healthy human beings to subconsciously self-regulate when under duress. In other words, the human body is not a "catastrophe" waiting to fall apart when its physiological limits are reached (a "brain-less" mode of exercise), but rather a regulated system which makes allowances based on a reading of its situation at any given moment.
In a running race, this model suggests that the subconscious brain (sometimes called the "Brain-based" or "Central Governor" model) devises a pacing strategy that allows you to finish the race quickly, but without killing yourself in the process. Everything, from your own physiology, the relative importance of the race, and the environmental conditions all factor in to the constantly adjusting calculation. That catastrophes do occasionally happen in sport suggests it is possible that humans can override the governor, but at a high cost.
With that said, the regulatory model discussed in "Waterlogged" is concerned not with physiological limits in exercise performance, but hydration. To my mind, Dr. Noakes makes a compelling case that the best way to take fluids during exercise is to trust your thirst and drink only when thirsty.
This is not a novel idea--it was typical advise once--but it is contrary to what many today seem to believe. Such dogmas include that we should drink ahead of thirst, because thirst is not an accurate gauge of our body's water needs. Furthermore, we should drink something with electrolytes (like Gatorade) to replenish those we lose through sweat. Athletes with "salty sweat," or those with salt stains on their skin at the end of a run are at particular risk, because they lose sodium at a faster rate than most. And if your urine is anything but clear, you're dangerously dehydrated and need to drink more immediately.
According to the research cited by Dr. Noakes, all of these claims are false:
The only symptom of dehydration is the sensation of thirst: if you don't feel thirsty, you're probably not dehydrated.
Drinking an electrolyte solution while exercising probably won't improve performance (interestingly, ingesting a carbohydrate beverage will), and it won't protect against low-sodium medical conditions like Exercise Associated Hyponatremia (EAH) or Exercise Associated Hyponatremic Encephalopathy (EAHE). The only way to reverse EAH or EAHE is an injection of a concentrated hypertonic solution of 3-5% saline. By comparison, Gatorade (and any tolerable drink) is hypotonic, which means it has a sodium concentration of less than 0.9%. In other words, when it comes to electrolyte balance, drinking water or Gatorade amount to the same thing. And according to the research, the primary way people reach such low blood sodium concentrations (135mmols or lower to be classified with EAH) isn't by losing sodium through sweat, respiration, or urine, but by drinking far more than one's body needs or can handle.
So-called "salty sweat" and "salt stains" do not indicate an abnormal sweat sodium concentration all the time, but rather that the person has more sodium at the time than their body needs; salt stains on the skin are just excess salt, nothing more. It seems that sodium is a highly regulated resource in the body, and sweat and urine loses are adjusted quickly based on the amount of sodium in one's diet.
Finally, the color and frequency of one's urine is not a clear indication of hydration. Athletes with "excessive anti-diuretic hormone" (a condition known as Syndrome of Inappropriate ADH secretion) can have highly concentrated (dark) urine yet be dangerously overhydrated.
These are just a few of the points raised in the book, but the message seems clear: despite what many say (including the sports drink industry), current science suggests that drinking to thirst not only yields excellent performance (the winners of most races are nearly always the most dehydrated by the end), but also protects athletes from actual and dangerous medical conditions like EAH and EAHE. It's okay to lose weight during exercise, because according to the research blood sodium osmolality--not body-weight--is the regulated variable in exercising humans. If this is indeed true, then weight-loss during exercise is a necessary step in maintaining homeostasis. Is it any surprise that people who drink to thirst not only lose weight during exercise, but also see their blood sodium concentrations rise?
"Waterlogged" is a highly stimulating book, and I encourage you all to give it a read and judge the evidence and argument for yourself. I feel very fortunate I didn't killed myself during my first marathon by trying to "stay ahead of thirst," and hope to use the knowledge acquired from this book in training for the next the race this October. I may not run faster, but hopefully my chances of ending up in a medical tent are greatly reduced. Something to think about anyway.
Happy Wednesday, friends :)
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
An unexpected detour
So I've been attending the local community college for a few months now, but today was the first day I brought someone with me. Allan--a co-worker, friend, and fellow stat-classmate--needed a ride, so I obliged. As it turns out, today was also the first time I needed to take a major detour along the route, though perhaps not in the expected way.
The drive proved easy enough despite it being the first day of school for several local districts. Buses filled the neighborhood, and masses of children congregated at every corner (seemingly). After picking up Allan we both drove over to the park where I park and walk the remaining two miles to school. I'd debriefed Allan about this, so it came as no surprise. While humid the weather was otherwise pleasant, and since we were early we could take our time and enjoy the scenery. That is, until we reached the bridge to cross the stream.
Flashing back about three hours, I stirred awake around 5:00am to a raucous of rain pounding on the roof. I remember wondering if this was what it would sound like if you could sit inside a person's skull while they showered (strange I know, but next time you shower plug your ears and put your head under the stream and listen); or perhaps it is what people in India hear all the time during monsoon season (for anyone who has lived through the monsoon in India, feel free to share your thoughts). In any case it seemed to bode ill for my usual routine, so I texted Allan during breakfast to see if we could meet a little earlier than planned. The rain had stopped, but he agreed anyhow. As I said before all seemed well until we reached the bridge.
If you peered hard enough into the murky, muddy, raging stream, you might make out the concrete form of the bridge leading across the water. It's a very low-lying bridge under usual circumstances, with a walk-way only a few feet above the stream. This morning it was about a foot under water, with a dangerous-looking current cutting across it's top. This was bad news for Allan and I, since the nearest alternative bridge was at least a mile up-stream, and in the opposite direction of the college. Checking the time, we had about 40 minutes before class began, and the more I ran through the calculations in my mind, the less likely it seemed we could take the alternative and arrive on time. But having no stomach to risk a soggy, painful death on the rapids, we promptly wheeled around and made tracks for the other bridge.
The route to the second bridge is primarily up-hill the first half, and down-hill the second. Using an old ultra-marathoning trick I once heard, Allan and I walked the uphills and jogged the down-hills. It was a tricky exercise with back-packs and street clothes, but it worked for a while (though I think after three bouts of jogging Allan was through with the exercise). We made it to the second bridge in good time, but now had another 2-miles to cover in about 25 minutes. Cutting through forest and slick underbrush to cut corners on the trail, I felt drenched with sweat and oppressively short on time. Interestingly, we passed a deer along the way who eyed us with a curious look, as though it were strange any animal should be in a rush with no predator on its tail.
Perhaps the deer was on to something, because Allan seemed locked in one speed no matter how far ahead I got. "Come along Allan, almost there," I called back on multiple occasions, but no encouragement or insisting on my part seemed capable of quickening his steps. So I changed tactics and slowed down until he caught up. From there I gradually became faster again, hoping Allan might too so we wouldn't be late. But this also did not work, and soon I was again 20 yards ahead (a great situation in a race, but a terrible one when you and someone else are running late).
Finally the school came in sight, and with perhaps two minutes before class I thought it might prove decisive in getting Allan to cover the remaining meters at a quicker clip. Yet if anything he seemed to slow further, which wasn't all bad because we were basically there.
As we climbed the stairs to class I turned to him, and wiping sweat from my brow said, "Well sir, I suppose there's no sense in rushing you is there."
To this he replied simply, "No, not really."
About two minutes after class began, we managed to enter the room and find a seat without incident. Attendance wasn't taken for a long while after that, and we missed nothing of importance. So everything turned out well in the end.
Thus our unexpected detour came to an end. At the time it felt a bit disconcerting to have routine so wholly altered, but looking back I think it proved a right-excellent adventure. We each found ourselves made uncomfortable by something, but managed to improvise and reach our destination in one piece. Of this I am happy, and while I hope our next walk to college is more routine, the unexpected can certainly make for an interesting morning.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
The drive proved easy enough despite it being the first day of school for several local districts. Buses filled the neighborhood, and masses of children congregated at every corner (seemingly). After picking up Allan we both drove over to the park where I park and walk the remaining two miles to school. I'd debriefed Allan about this, so it came as no surprise. While humid the weather was otherwise pleasant, and since we were early we could take our time and enjoy the scenery. That is, until we reached the bridge to cross the stream.
Flashing back about three hours, I stirred awake around 5:00am to a raucous of rain pounding on the roof. I remember wondering if this was what it would sound like if you could sit inside a person's skull while they showered (strange I know, but next time you shower plug your ears and put your head under the stream and listen); or perhaps it is what people in India hear all the time during monsoon season (for anyone who has lived through the monsoon in India, feel free to share your thoughts). In any case it seemed to bode ill for my usual routine, so I texted Allan during breakfast to see if we could meet a little earlier than planned. The rain had stopped, but he agreed anyhow. As I said before all seemed well until we reached the bridge.
If you peered hard enough into the murky, muddy, raging stream, you might make out the concrete form of the bridge leading across the water. It's a very low-lying bridge under usual circumstances, with a walk-way only a few feet above the stream. This morning it was about a foot under water, with a dangerous-looking current cutting across it's top. This was bad news for Allan and I, since the nearest alternative bridge was at least a mile up-stream, and in the opposite direction of the college. Checking the time, we had about 40 minutes before class began, and the more I ran through the calculations in my mind, the less likely it seemed we could take the alternative and arrive on time. But having no stomach to risk a soggy, painful death on the rapids, we promptly wheeled around and made tracks for the other bridge.
The route to the second bridge is primarily up-hill the first half, and down-hill the second. Using an old ultra-marathoning trick I once heard, Allan and I walked the uphills and jogged the down-hills. It was a tricky exercise with back-packs and street clothes, but it worked for a while (though I think after three bouts of jogging Allan was through with the exercise). We made it to the second bridge in good time, but now had another 2-miles to cover in about 25 minutes. Cutting through forest and slick underbrush to cut corners on the trail, I felt drenched with sweat and oppressively short on time. Interestingly, we passed a deer along the way who eyed us with a curious look, as though it were strange any animal should be in a rush with no predator on its tail.
Perhaps the deer was on to something, because Allan seemed locked in one speed no matter how far ahead I got. "Come along Allan, almost there," I called back on multiple occasions, but no encouragement or insisting on my part seemed capable of quickening his steps. So I changed tactics and slowed down until he caught up. From there I gradually became faster again, hoping Allan might too so we wouldn't be late. But this also did not work, and soon I was again 20 yards ahead (a great situation in a race, but a terrible one when you and someone else are running late).
Finally the school came in sight, and with perhaps two minutes before class I thought it might prove decisive in getting Allan to cover the remaining meters at a quicker clip. Yet if anything he seemed to slow further, which wasn't all bad because we were basically there.
As we climbed the stairs to class I turned to him, and wiping sweat from my brow said, "Well sir, I suppose there's no sense in rushing you is there."
To this he replied simply, "No, not really."
About two minutes after class began, we managed to enter the room and find a seat without incident. Attendance wasn't taken for a long while after that, and we missed nothing of importance. So everything turned out well in the end.
Thus our unexpected detour came to an end. At the time it felt a bit disconcerting to have routine so wholly altered, but looking back I think it proved a right-excellent adventure. We each found ourselves made uncomfortable by something, but managed to improvise and reach our destination in one piece. Of this I am happy, and while I hope our next walk to college is more routine, the unexpected can certainly make for an interesting morning.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Sunday, September 2, 2012
" A helpful trick for getting by."
One day a philosophically-minded gentleman walked along a path in a park near his house. Along the way he came upon a woman crying on a bench. "What is the matter?" he asked.
"It is my husband" she replied. "Yesterday he fell from a ladder, and this morning he died. I am a widower now."
At this the man remembered his reading, and with a knowing look replied "Why, lady, surely you must know that crying will not bring him back."
"Of course I know that" she sobbed, her face in her hands. "I cry because I cannot help it."
The man frowned. "But of course you can help it," he replied. "All people have that capacity, if they so choose. You must simply concentrate, and remember that all grief and inequamity is self-induced. Pull yourself together now, and be reasonable."
"Reasonable!?" shouted the lady in reply. "What is 'reasonable' in the face of such tragedy? You say I must concentrate, yet of my husband's accident I can think of little else. I see it over and over again, in my mind like a horror-film without end. Can you imagine? My whole being, forced to relive a most awful moment without pause or respite? Do you suppose I 'choose' this fate?"
The man choked, "Well, I, I don't suppose you would. But you shouldn't you know, because clearly it leaves you unhappy. You must choose instead to be happy."
The woman made to reply, but the man quickly added, "But that is ultimately up you. For the present, I must attend to other matters."
He quickly made an exit down the path. The woman remained on the bench as before, now both sad about her husband and furious with the man. After a time, another man came down the path, spotting the lady crying on the bench.
"Excuse me miss, but what is the matter?" he asked.
"It is my husband" she replied. "Yesterday he fell from a ladder, and this morning he died. I am a widower now."
"Oh," replied the man, "I am sorry to hear that. What sort of man was he?"
The lady sniffled. "A kindly man," she managed, "though not without flaw, though who is? I am so shaken, for I cannot stop reliving the moment when he fell."
"Yes," said the man, "I can only imagine." Silence followed, except for the sounds of the surrounding park.
He began again. "This is a lovely park, is it not? Do you come here frequently?"
"No," she replied without much emotion, "this is my first visit."
"I see," said the man. "Do birds interest you?"
"No, birds are no interest of mine," she replied.
"How about trees?" asked the man.
"No, trees are no interest of mine," she replied.
"I see," said the man. Again, silence hung between them.
Finally, the man asked, "What of rivers, ma'am? Are they an interest of yours?"
"Perhaps," she replied. "I grew up on a river, and sometimes went fishing with my family. It was always such a wonderful time, even when we didn't catch anything."
To this the man replied, "You are in luck then. The stream in this park has just been stocked with fish. If you like, you can join the other fishermen by the river as they test their luck and skill."
The woman was inclined to say no, but changed her mind. "I will go for a little while."
So the man and the woman walked to the stream, where they found many men and women up to their knees in water, casting their lines and talking amongst themselves. After a time, one of the lady fishermen looked over, and noticing the widow watching her intently said, "Hey there, would you like to give it a try?"
"Yes," said the woman, wading into the gently-flowing water in her street clothes "though perhaps only for a minute. It has been a long time since I last fished, and expect to catch little."
"No problem" responded the fisher woman, "the spot's crawlin' with 'em. You're bound to catch a few in short order."
The lady did catch a fish, and had several others get away. The fisher lady and the other fishermen alternatively offered advice and laughed good-natured as the woman used her rusty fishing skills to reel in a catch. By dusk even she, the window, was laughing and making arrangements to meet up the next day.
The man from earlier offered to walk the widow to the edge of the park. They walked and talked amiably for a while, until suddenly the widow went quiet and distant-seeming.
"Are you alright?" asked the man.
"Yes," she replied. "I again remembered my husband's fall, and as before I cannot remove it from my mind. It is so terrible a thought to carry with me."
"I bet," said the man, "and it may stay with you for some time." He went silent for a moment as they walked, then said, "Perhaps feeling grief is like feeling sick; it takes time to work its way out of us. And as much as we might wish, we can't in either case will ourselves immediately well. It takes time, its own time perhaps."
"Hmm" replied the woman thoughtfully. "I must say I feel happier after fishing all afternoon, even though my thoughts still tend toward my husband's accident. The few hours of relative peace felt like a deep, restorative sleep. And while I still grieve for his lost, the thought of my husband is not nearly as painful now than as before. I thank you for taking my mind off things, even if only for a little while."
"You're welcome," replied the man. "Someday perhaps you will be at peace with this horrible accident. Until that time, a little distraction may be a helpful trick for getting by."
They reached the edge of the park, and there bid each other a good night.
"It is my husband" she replied. "Yesterday he fell from a ladder, and this morning he died. I am a widower now."
At this the man remembered his reading, and with a knowing look replied "Why, lady, surely you must know that crying will not bring him back."
"Of course I know that" she sobbed, her face in her hands. "I cry because I cannot help it."
The man frowned. "But of course you can help it," he replied. "All people have that capacity, if they so choose. You must simply concentrate, and remember that all grief and inequamity is self-induced. Pull yourself together now, and be reasonable."
"Reasonable!?" shouted the lady in reply. "What is 'reasonable' in the face of such tragedy? You say I must concentrate, yet of my husband's accident I can think of little else. I see it over and over again, in my mind like a horror-film without end. Can you imagine? My whole being, forced to relive a most awful moment without pause or respite? Do you suppose I 'choose' this fate?"
The man choked, "Well, I, I don't suppose you would. But you shouldn't you know, because clearly it leaves you unhappy. You must choose instead to be happy."
The woman made to reply, but the man quickly added, "But that is ultimately up you. For the present, I must attend to other matters."
He quickly made an exit down the path. The woman remained on the bench as before, now both sad about her husband and furious with the man. After a time, another man came down the path, spotting the lady crying on the bench.
"Excuse me miss, but what is the matter?" he asked.
"It is my husband" she replied. "Yesterday he fell from a ladder, and this morning he died. I am a widower now."
"Oh," replied the man, "I am sorry to hear that. What sort of man was he?"
The lady sniffled. "A kindly man," she managed, "though not without flaw, though who is? I am so shaken, for I cannot stop reliving the moment when he fell."
"Yes," said the man, "I can only imagine." Silence followed, except for the sounds of the surrounding park.
He began again. "This is a lovely park, is it not? Do you come here frequently?"
"No," she replied without much emotion, "this is my first visit."
"I see," said the man. "Do birds interest you?"
"No, birds are no interest of mine," she replied.
"How about trees?" asked the man.
"No, trees are no interest of mine," she replied.
"I see," said the man. Again, silence hung between them.
Finally, the man asked, "What of rivers, ma'am? Are they an interest of yours?"
"Perhaps," she replied. "I grew up on a river, and sometimes went fishing with my family. It was always such a wonderful time, even when we didn't catch anything."
To this the man replied, "You are in luck then. The stream in this park has just been stocked with fish. If you like, you can join the other fishermen by the river as they test their luck and skill."
The woman was inclined to say no, but changed her mind. "I will go for a little while."
So the man and the woman walked to the stream, where they found many men and women up to their knees in water, casting their lines and talking amongst themselves. After a time, one of the lady fishermen looked over, and noticing the widow watching her intently said, "Hey there, would you like to give it a try?"
"Yes," said the woman, wading into the gently-flowing water in her street clothes "though perhaps only for a minute. It has been a long time since I last fished, and expect to catch little."
"No problem" responded the fisher woman, "the spot's crawlin' with 'em. You're bound to catch a few in short order."
The lady did catch a fish, and had several others get away. The fisher lady and the other fishermen alternatively offered advice and laughed good-natured as the woman used her rusty fishing skills to reel in a catch. By dusk even she, the window, was laughing and making arrangements to meet up the next day.
The man from earlier offered to walk the widow to the edge of the park. They walked and talked amiably for a while, until suddenly the widow went quiet and distant-seeming.
"Are you alright?" asked the man.
"Yes," she replied. "I again remembered my husband's fall, and as before I cannot remove it from my mind. It is so terrible a thought to carry with me."
"I bet," said the man, "and it may stay with you for some time." He went silent for a moment as they walked, then said, "Perhaps feeling grief is like feeling sick; it takes time to work its way out of us. And as much as we might wish, we can't in either case will ourselves immediately well. It takes time, its own time perhaps."
"Hmm" replied the woman thoughtfully. "I must say I feel happier after fishing all afternoon, even though my thoughts still tend toward my husband's accident. The few hours of relative peace felt like a deep, restorative sleep. And while I still grieve for his lost, the thought of my husband is not nearly as painful now than as before. I thank you for taking my mind off things, even if only for a little while."
"You're welcome," replied the man. "Someday perhaps you will be at peace with this horrible accident. Until that time, a little distraction may be a helpful trick for getting by."
They reached the edge of the park, and there bid each other a good night.
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