Yearn-to-Run

jet propulsion

   Back on Father's Day, I was surprised by Doralyn and the boys with the gift of a Running Room Learn-to-Run clinic membership. These clinics are designed for people who are interested in entering the "running life" or at least testing the waters. As added incentive and moral support, she also signed herself up!
   We showed up together at the Running Room store in downtown London in early August and met Kathryn, our instructor, and a handful of other "newbies". The structure of these clinics is that you receive in-store instruction for the first half hour or so and then you actually get out and run. You run in increments; run a minute, walk a minute up to a total of twenty minutes and then, the following week, you run two minutes and walk one minute up to twenty and so on, over consecutive weeks. Eventually, you end up walking one minute and running ten and, at this point, you have finished the Learn-to-Run clinic.
   They actually teach you how to run properly; what part of your foot needs to land first, how high the knees should be, how long the stride, where your head should point, even what direction your thumbs should face. Apparently all these things make a difference.
   For me, the toughest thing to learn was not to have your heel land first. We were taught what they call a "mid-foot strike", where your foot lands much closer to your toes than your heels. This felt very unnatural to me until I got used to it. Now, it feels unnatural to do it the old way.

I will need different motivation, however

   Right at the moment, we are at the end of the clinic and are looking towards out target race. It is called the "Gobbler Gallop" and most of us are entered in the 3K race. The in-store teaching session this week touched on race strategy and etiquette. My strategy is to not drop dead and to be polite while I am not doing that!
   Doralyn, by the way, was amazing in the way she supported me in this. We went to the first two or three sessions together and then would go out on regular training runs in our neighbourhood. Quickly, though, she developed shin splints and this greatly decreased her ability to both run and get any enjoyment out of it. She plugged on, even through all that, like a trooper. Eventually, though, it didn't make much sense to continue if all it was going to do was cause pain. So I have continued on my own, with her encouraging me from afar.

What MOST of the "Gobbler Gallopers" will see...

   Where I go from the "Gobbler Gallop" is any body's guess. I've been asked to join the 5K clinic which seems to be the natural progression from the Learn-to-Run. This, however, will take me right into the winter and I'm not sure I'm quite ready for snow and ice yet. Something about broken legs... On top of everything else, ball hockey will start soon and many nights it would conflict with the running. So I don't know, we'll see. I'm not sure if eventually I will wind up being one of those guys who needs to get and run three or four times a week, or not. I suspect not but, once again, we'll see.


...but what I hope at least ONE "Gobbler Galloper" will see.

   Whether I become a runner or not, the idea of being in a race (though it'll be more like a fun run) is kind of intriguing, though. I hadn't even thought about it (or signed up, for that matter) until we started talking strategy this week. We're not talking huge strategy, if you must know, more like "don't run too fast at the beginning or you'll die near the start line instead of the finish line". Not much but enough to fuel the little bit of competitive spirit in me. Right now, I'm imagining being right at the back of the pack with about half a kilometer to go. And then passing one person...
  
    
  

Cemetery Truth

   Okay, there is something kind of creepy about 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth'.
   I say this because I don't believe any of us actually want to be weighted down by the truth. The whole truth, that is.
   Here is an example of what I mean by the 'whole truth'.
   I drive past a couple of cemeteries on my way to and from work each day. I was stopped in traffic once beside one of these cemeteries and found myself gazing out over it. There were hundreds of headstones, many pathways, and beautiful shrubbery. All in all, a pretty landscape. My imagination, however, kicked in while I was sitting there and I started to picture what I actually would be looking at if there was no grass, no dirt, no trees and no shrubs, if somehow all those things were invisible. I realized I would be looking at thousands of caskets, just suspended there. I then imagined what I'd be faced with if those same caskets were invisible. I would be looking out over a sea of decayed or decaying corpses. That is the 'whole truth' I am talking about.

   I suspect that, if we were faced with this particular 'whole truth' on a regular basis, most of us would find a way to avoid driving past cemeteries. Ever.
   This,then, is what I mean when I say 'truth', in this blog.
   It's not just cemeteries. I am sure there are vegetarians out there who looked down at the meat they were eating and realized what the truth of it was simply by going backwards to the cow. In between the live cow and the dead meat there were a million other truths as well while that steak made its way to us. The server who brought it to us or the butcher at the supermarket or the cashier who rang it in all have their own truths and, in a truthful world, we would know what those are. We know what they are thinking, where they've been, and what went on in their bathrooms this morning. We know what their hopes and aspirations are, we know what their plans are for the rest of the day. We know what their fleeting thoughts about us are.
   What would it be like going to work in a truthful world? How much more difficult would it be to function there if you knew what your co-workers were thinking about you. No, what they were REALLY thinking about you! How much altered would your work life be if you knew that no-one there trusted you? On the other hand, how might things change if you knew that the majority of the company's employees thought you were a top-notch worker? What if you knew one of them hated you? How would it be different if one of them was in love with you? I'm thinking that it would end up being almost impossible to work there, anymore.

   If the concrete in high rise apartment buildings was invisible what would you see, looking up? A little bit of everything, I imagine, most of it boring and likely a lot of it would be stuff you didn't really want to see; people going to the bathroom, taking out the garbage, vacuuming, having sex, beating on each other, and on and on. Much of it, I suspect, would be people just sitting there in front of one screen or another, ruminating. Or worse.
   I occasionally (constantly) find myself stopped in traffic, surrounded by people in cars on all four sides. It's hard not to wonder where they're headed and why. Sometimes I find myself wondering at the sheer numbers of them. I often try and imagine what kind of a mood they're in and what disasters or triumphs have recently occurred. I assume that in the vast number of fellow drivers I've had the occasion to share a stoplight with there were one or two who had just committed a crime, another two or three who were about to, several who'd just received a cancer diagnosis, a few who'd just been proposed to, some on their way to brand new jobs, some who'd just been been fired, a handful who were on their way back to get that thing they'd forgotten, some who were driving for the first time and some who were driving for the last.
   Were we to know all these truths, how easy would it be to sit there at that light and simply wait for it to change? Probably not very.

   So I am thankful for the dark earth and the green plants in cemeteries and I am thankful for the impenetrable concrete in buildings and I am thankful for the steel in my car which shields me from its machinations and I am thankful for the thousands of miles between me and starving children and I am thankful for occasional blank stares and forced smiles. They all help me get from here to there and back again.
     
  
   

Loved Ones

   I am under the impression that there is a possibility I may run into some of my loved ones after I pass away. You certainly hear and see this talked about. Generally, it is talked about in a hopeful, comforting kind of way.
   I am thinking it would be nice to see a friendly face when I arrive on the "other side" and there are many of my loved ones whose faces I would be happy to see again. Any time that I have seen a medium on T.V., talking to the departed, it seems as though our loved ones are there and eagerly waiting our arrival.
   I can't tell you how many questions this raises in my mind, the idea that there may be an afterlife full of spirits and that there might be people here on earth who can communicate with them. So I will only raise one of them here.
   Who is a "loved one"?
   I have a pretty good idea of who a lot of my loved ones are I could potentially be seeing again. There are all sorts of family members, aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents and so on who have passed and could be there waiting for me.
   There are, however, a large number of people who I've been very close to as well who weren't relatives and isn't it quite possible I could run into them also? I have worked with people who have passed away, both staff and people our agency supports and I have been involved with many of them on an almost daily basis and it would almost make sense that if there is an afterlife then they would be partaking of it. Perhaps with me.

   I sometimes wonder if, in amongst the people I know, I might also run into total strangers. Or do you only come across loved ones? What if you "loved" someone but they didn't love you back? What if you only used to love someone, or vice-versa?
   Mediums make you believe that your loved ones who have passed are watching over you, on almost a constant basis. Do they choose to do this or are they compelled to do so, by some sort of other-worldly job description? I wonder if they ever get a break, maybe watch over a stranger's shoulder for awhile. I wonder how emotional they get as their loved ones continue on after them. Do they sense the passing of time and do they get impatient, waiting?
   As I sit here and write this, I wonder if I'm the only entity reading the words on the screen. Perhaps I should type a message...
   Any time I have seen a medium on T.V., one of the most consistent messages the departed seem to want to convey to their loved ones is don't be sad, get on with your life and everything is okay here. Somehow, this rings true with me, I can almost imagine wanting to comfort my loved ones back on earth this way after I've passed. Although I don't particularly believe in God, I do tend to believe in the afterlife and I see it as something not to be feared.
   I'm just not sure who I'm going to see there.