Excellence

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Two events recently made me think about excellence, what it entails and how to cultivate it. Event one was Olympia High’s final orchestra concert of the school year. I’m always blown away by their individual and collective musicianship. Event two was Sunday’s Pre(fontaine) Classic track meet in Track Town, USA, Eugene, OR. In the mile, 12 people went sub 4, an American woman ran 3:59.9 in the 1500; a shot putter went over 71 feet; a long jumper 28’8″; the 100m winner, 9.94; and on and on. 

One thing musical and athletic excellence entail is beauty. There’s something mesmerizing about watching a gifted musician embrace and bring a piece alive just as there’s something almost mystical about watching an elite middle distance East African runner pull away in the last 400 meters.

Often there’s a knowledgeable, committed, demanding coach eliciting excellent performance. Chip Schooler, the Olympia High orchestra conductor is a case in point. I don’t want to put him on a pedestal even though he does stand on one, but those students are privileged to get to work with him day in and day out.

There also has to be an intrinsic love of the activity that translates into dedication to repetitive practice. Then there’s very careful preparation for the excellent performance. One of my favorite parts of the meet was watching the pole vaulters warm up an hour before their event started. Running drills, spraying the handle of their poles, taking practice runs and flopping into the mat, stretching, hydrating, narrowing their focus.

In excellence versus equity debates, I typically advocate for equity, but they don’t have to be mutually exclusive all the time. Maybe I’ve slighted excellence out of fear that it too often produces elitism.

Fitness Friday—6/5

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The most humbling defeat of my atheltic career occurred last Sunday at the Haag Lake open water swim west of Portland. Prior to Sunday, I would have gone back forty years into the archive to an age group swim meet in some stuffy Ohio YMCA. I was seven, eight years old moving up from the 25 and 50 to the 100 free. Could I hold it together for four laps? Turned out the best eight year old in the state was in lane four and his Little League mom was yelling at him psyching him up from the opposite side. He shot me a “You make me laugh” look. I wondered if I’d fit under the starting block.

If memory serves me correctly, I was between lap two and three when he finished. This is where it got comical, in a funny sad way. After touching he hopped out, quickly toweled off, and threw his pants and shirt on before my compatriot tadpoles and I finished. He made sure we saw him in his civvies. His mom was so proud. I really hope he survived his mom and kharma didn’t bite him in the ass.

The Haag Lake open water swims were 800m, 2k, and 4k. Some people did one, some two, some all three. Cool event in a beautiful location. I decided to do the 2 and 4 because I hadn’t gone long in the water since a high school water polo team five mile fund raiser. The memory of that five miler lives on among a few friends because I began hallucinating near the end. More specifically, I saw Jesus doing backstroke next to me in a flowing white robe. Exquisite form. Anyways, I feel strongly that swimmers should go long every thirty years.

I decided not to push the 2 so I wouldn’t die in the middle of the 4. As is sometimes the case, I had major sighting problems and swam way too wide. So I was pleasantly surprised to finish in 29:02. I was hoping to go sub 30 in the 2 and 60 flat in the 4. There were so many swimmers at the finish and spectators that I couldn’t really tell how I did until logging onto the web Monday morning. As I skimmed down I saw a 75 year old six or seven places above me, David Radcliff, 75, 26:40. MISTAKE! Alert! MISTAKE! No way, Jose.

I goggled him and learned he may be the fastest 75 year old on the planet, but still, spanked by a 75 year old?! I’m used to peers running and cycling by me, but I usually hold my own in the water. Radcliff was an All-American at Berkeley, holds nearly all the US records for his age group, and was in finals of the 1500m in the Melbourne Olympics, but still spanked by a 75 year old?! I wasn’t in race mode, but even if I was, even if I had taken perfect lines all the way around, even if I had worn my translucent zoomers, he would have beaten me.

I didn’t see if he quickly shed the wetsuit and put his clothes on. 

Now that I’ve had a few days to fully digest the humble pie, I find Radcliff incredibly inspiring. If you google him you’ll find a 13 minute video interview from a May, 2009 meet where he set several records. He said he did a 6:07 for the first 500 of his 1,650! Someday I hope to be the 75 year old ruining youngsters’ races. 

Makes me wonder how much time would the world’s fastest 75 year old runner put into me in a 10k, the world’s fastest 75 year old cyclist in a 40kTT. 

I sighted better during the 4, but fought a calf cramp which cost me a little time. I also faded over the last 1500, should have eaten between the events. I finished in 1:02:59 for those scorekeeping at home.

Radcliff sat that one out. Probably didn’t deem me worthy competition.

Late Adaptor

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Ever goggle yourself? I just did it to see if my new blog would pop up and I was glad that it did. Unfortunately though, a summary of my “Ratemyprofessor.com” entry also popped up and I’m very sorry to report I still score a big zero for “hotness”. Who cares that my other ratings are so complimentary, I want some chili peppers dammit (the symbol used to depict hotness)! My lovely wife was outraged when she first learned about this injustice and has committed to hacking into the system and rectifying things so that’s helped me move on.

A personal technology update. I’m still probably the only person over age twelve that doesn’t own a cell phone or mobile as some Euros refer to them. I also don’t have a Facebook page, could not care less about what Ashton Kutchar, Shaq, or Lance Armstrong are tweeting about, and only have music on my iPod nano (girly music according to my sister).

One of the stranger things about me though is I follow personal tech discussions fairly closely (David Pogue, Walt Mossberg, Farhad Manjoo). I’m addicted to macrumors.com and I’m anxiously awaiting the June 8th Mac Conference. How WEIRD is that, the last guy without a cell phone logging on daily to see the most recent screen shots of the soon to be released, new generation iPhone. You’re thinking off-the-hinges eccentric, but I really prefer “quirky”.

How is this lunacy explained? My interest in personal tech discussions is easier to explain than my non-conformity. I’m a social scientist at heart and I’m intrigued by the ways the technologies are changing how we relate to one another and our culture more generally. On the other side of the equation, one of my hang ups is the slow and steady dimunition of privacy. Another factor probably  is simply not being as social as most other people. Also, the longer I remain untethered (email is a whole ‘nother story), the longer the non-conformist part of me wants to stay untethered. How cool would it be to the the last untethered person (I’m thinking Newsweek cover story). I don’t begrudge anyone their smart phones or hand held computers, I have no illusion of having any impact on the inevitability of increased connectivity, and this post aside (remember Positive Momentum is a secret society), I don’t advertise my cell-less status.

That being said, I am ready to buy Apple’s Kindle killer whenever it comes out (probably first half of 2010 according to macrumors.com). I want an electronic reader and I have to confess to being intrigued by some of the iPhone apps. Maybe I should just buy an iTouch when it’s updated. I was impressed by a recent  iTouch to iTouch via Skype article I read. Maybe I should buy my lovely wife an iTouch too and then we can Skype away. Since she’s the only person who thinks I deserve a chili pepper, she’s the only person I want to talk to.

Should I buy an iPhone, iTouch, hold out for the tablet?

And yes, I own APPL stock; yes, all the references to their products in this post are subliminal; yes, tomorrow you’ll wake up and begin transitioning from that Seattle company’s products to APPL’s.

Is resistance futile and should I just create a Facebook account, start Twittering, join Linkedin, and upgrade the blog with all the social networking doodads? Why or why not? Has your personal tech enriched your life? Have the benefits outweighed the costs?

Care to sell me on digitizing my life?

Fitness Friday-5/29

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New wrinkle to my basic week of running, swimming, and cycling. Shari and I do 4,000 yards on Tuesday mornings at 5:45a. Shari has all the attributes of a great training partner–dependable, friendly, fast. She kicks my butt during IM sets, she kicks my butt when pulling long sets, and I regain a little dignity by nudging her out on 50 yard sprint sets. There’s one downside, Shari can be stubborn when it comes to leading out the lane. Tuesday morning, after Shari, another friend named Hobb and I completed our 1k warmup, I suggested we do 400 free followed by 4x100IM, three times. After negotiating the intervals, I said, “You lead out.” To which she replied, “No way, I’m not leading out.” So I did what you would have done in my position, I yelled at her. “Come on! I don’t want you swimming up on me, don’t be a baby, lead out!” Didn’t work because she dug her heels in and so I went to Plan B, the stare down. That lasted all of three seconds because the large, red, relentless second hand on the clock was nearning the tippy top. She won and I think I caught her doing breakstroke briefly once as she swam up on Hobb who was drafting off of me.

In other fitness news, I had a great Olympia half marathon two weekends ago. Perfect conditions, it was fun to run with two friends, and I went a few minutes faster than I thought possible. Shelly took us through the first mile in 6:55 or a good 30-40 seconds faster than I had planned. At mile 2, I politely suggested she take off and she slowly opened a gap. It took DoubleS and me a good 4 miles to recover and settle into a sustainable groove. Meanwhile, we watched Shelly get smaller in the distance. At mile 8.5 DoubleS dropped back a tiny bit and I decided to turn it up, so we parted ways. The local fishwrap had a picture of him crossing the line “In the marathon, with a time of 1:34:24” so we’ve been teasing him about his world record performance. Surprisingly, going up the hilliest stretch, I started to close the gap with Shelly. My mantra, “The hills are our friends,” was paying off. At about 11.75 miles we turned onto the main downhill drag into town and the finish line. I was 20 seconds back and told Shelly’s husband, “I’ll never catch her.” (Note: Shelly’s husband is 6’6″ and was a Pac-10 high jump champion in the early 90’s. If he finds out I was locked on his wife’s turquoise blue shorts for well over an hour this may be my last post.) Surprisingly, I caught her fairly quickly and then it was ON. Shelly is way more talented than me, but less experienced, and my pacing savvy was the difference. We pushed hard over the last mile. In the end, I beat her by 2 seconds, thus proving, once and for all, boys rule and girls drool. 

I know what you’re thinking. “Ron, you really do need some help from eastern philosophy.” But the more I think about it, the more okay I am with my momentary lapses into competitive madness. I race a few times a year. Almost every other run is done at a moderate pace with friends. We (usually) wait for one another if someone is struggling. It’s fun to compete on rare occasion, because of the contrast. Besides, it takes me back to my youth when racing—whether on foot or bicycle or by popsicle stick in the creek or hotwheels on tricked-out tracks—was a way of life.

What’s Wrong With Me?

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Here’s an email I sent two friends Monday evening after climbing Mount St. Helens on two wheels. 

74 miles, 6,590′, 4,562 cals, 17.2avg, 4:18:32. The only thing that would have made it better would have been watching the two of you pull away from me somewhere along the way. I can’t imagine better conditions, perfectly clear, 60’s, light wind. Large group, 18 I think. A group of 10 went first, then a group of 8 about 15m later. I was in the first group and we stayed together for 15-16 miles when I ATTACKED. Those capitals were meant to be a joke because I went from 8 mph to 10, but did pull away. I felt badly for the first two miles, dipping into Zone-OppsIwent toohardandnowtheresnowayIcanmaintainthis, but I did create separation and after two miles managed to find a sustainable rhythm. My advantage was having ridden 50 miles Friday-Sunday versus 200+ for alot of the maniacs in the group (J, G, R, J, KD, B, M, a few others). I glanced back on occasion and saw two people at a couple hundred meters and then no one. KD caught me somewhere around 25 in and we worked together downhill and at the start of the steep stuff near the top. I was losing a little touch, 20m, when my seat bag came undone. Took a minute to fix and that was it. She probably put another minute into me from there. So I won the men’s division and finished second overall. J and R were next, D, R, M shortly thereafter, in less than 15m, so I probably got 5th. J and M were further back, not sure why. Silly to think in terms of place, it was just nice to be alive and healthy in nature. 

Ron

The last sentence is my attempt to snap out of my western, hyper-competitive frame of mind. I’m 47, riding with friends on a beautiful Memorial day and I’m thinking more like a 27 or 37 year old in the Giro d’Italia. I want to adopt a more eastern, process oriented approach to competition, but I feel captive to my gender, peers, and history. 

Blogging Again

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I enjoyed the sabbatical, but I’m ready to rite again. I’m not advertising my return, so if you’ve stumbled upon this post, welcome to the secret society that is Positive Momentum. Whatever you do, don’t tell my mom so I can continue spelling whatever way I want.

Change of Heart

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In December, I wrote that two-thirds of the time I think positively about blogging and so I planned on continuing. I enjoy my work as an educator a lot; however, I now realize I’m not passionate enough about education to comprehensively “cover” it in my non-work hours.

Even if I attempted to comprehensively cover it, I’m not sure people would  tune in.

Sometime since the first of the year my blogging enjoyment quotient dipped. I don’t regret the time I’ve spent blogging, but I haven’t been as successful as I hoped in creating a growing, engaged readership. In hindsight, my lack of success is probably because I haven’t filled any particular niche and I haven’t networked with other bloggers nearly enough.

Time for a blogging sabbatical.

Thank you for reading. And thanks to Dean, Travis, Francis, Lynn, Scott and others for commenting on occasion.

Gateway Drug

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This is the best paragraph I’ve read in awhile. It’s from an essay titled, “The Triumph of the Readers” by Ann Patchett, which appeared in the WSJ on 1/17/09.

Like the chicken pox, getting infected by the desire to read is best when it hits us early. As a child I was so committed to “Charlotte’s Web” that I pleaded for, and received, a pig for my ninth birthday, a gift that segued nicely into my “Little House on the Prairie” obsession. Was I, with my American classics, more noble than today’s middle-schooler who reads and rereads his copy of “Diary of a Wimpy Kid”? Was I less noble than my straight-A sister who read “Le Petit Prince” in French? No on both counts. I am a firm believer in the fact that it isn’t so much what you read, it’s that you read. Reading fiction not only develops our imagination and creativity, it gives us the skills to be alone. It gives us the ability to feel empathy for people we’ve never met, living lives we couldn’t possibly experience for ourselves, because the book puts us inside the character’s skin. Whether you’re in the life of Wilbur the pig, or Greg Heffley, the wimpy kid, or that little blonde prince in the desert, you’ve stepped outside of yourself for awhile, something that is beneficial to every child. Even if you’re stepping into “Valley of the Dolls,” it’s better than nothing. I’m all for reading bad books because I consider them to be a gateway drug. People who read bad books now may or may not read better books in the future. People who read nothing now will read nothing in the future.

Now I feel bad for nagging my daughters all these years about their affinity for Archie comics.

Religious Life and Leadership 2

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After the too lengthy “Religious Life and Leadership 1” post, I feel like I can be relatively concise here. 

I agree with my mother who says “variety is the spice of life,” but religious services are amazingly predictable. On some level, routines are comforting, but more than that, they probably contribute to a nostalgia for years gone by. But religious leaders and organizations don’t seem terribly reflective about how the exact same traditions that long-standing members find value in, may not resonate as much with younger, more diverse visitors.

I’m curious as to why there’s not more experimentation, especially with forms that promote interaction between religious leaders and members and between members themselves.

One of the most consistent routines is a mid-service sermon or homily by a religious leader or pastor. He or she typically speaks somewhere between 10-40 minutes depending on denominational traditions. Within my Lutheran denomination, you could go from church to church, and pastor to pastor, and find quite a few commonalities.

In contrast to Baptist or Pentecostal preachers, Lutheran pastors are much more subdued. More like a poet at a public reading than a union organizer at a large rally. I was reminded of this while visiting a Baptist church on MLK day. As the visiting Pentecostal pastor grew increasingly animated, I wondered why on earth he was using a microphone. Maybe Lutheran pastors would get more worked up if Lutherans threw a “call and response” switch which is about as likely as the Phoenix Cardinals making it to the Super Bowl.

Lutheran pastors tend to focus their sermons on the biblical excerpt for the day. Their exegesis is more historical than contemporary in nature. The classic Lutheran style is literary, my poetry reading reference was intentional. It’s rarely clear what the implications of the scripture might be for young people at school on Monday morning, middle-aged people in their respective families and workplaces, and the elderly in the various contexts in which they live. The pastor reveals relatively little about his or her spiritual struggles and probably to keep the political peace, pressing controversial issues are tip-toed around.

I’m not even sure if “good” sermons are remembered from one Sunday to the next.

I’m not sure I’d like to see more passionate, applicable, authentic sermons as much as a complete rethinking of the model where the same person communicates a few insights each week with little to no participation from anyone else. Imagine a pastor finishing her sermon and instead of moving straight to the offertory music, saying, “So what do you think? Let’s take some time to hear a few reflections, questions, or even differing perspectives.” My guess is the 50+ set would say “What the heck, I don’t want to have to participate in the service. Isn’t it written somewhere in the bible that ‘Thou shall go from the sermon to the offertory music?!” 

I’ve attended churches where a more informal, alternative, interactive, hippy service has been introduced only to be poorly attended and then given up on. So I suspect I’m in the minority.

I just wonder, if religious leaders were more reflective about the outline of their services and found ways to promote interactivity, if more people would engage.

Friday’s Fitness Footnote 09.2

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Turns out I jinxed myself with my “injury free” reference in my 2008 fitness wrap up. PC and I weren’t even out of the hood last week when I pulled up with an invisible knife in my right calf. I’m guessing soleus micro tear. Didn’t run for five todays until W morn when I didn’t even make it 50 yards. That was depressing. I didn’t think cycling was having any effect because I couldn’t feel anything while riding, but even though I haven’t been going hard, it must have been making matters worse. I’ve been stretching the heck out of it all to no avail. 

In the meantime I’ve been enjoying cycling and swimming. I got invited to swim with the Masters regulars M morn and enjoyed being the slowest person in my lane. Brian and Geraldine swam in college, I on the other hand, played pick up basketball. One day in 1983, the college player of the year walked into the gym. He was in town to receive the Wooden award as the best player in college. MJ up close. Despite my obvious availability, I wasn’t invited into his game. No surprise I guess that he didn’t want any piece of me.

Tangent. In my fifth year, while working on my MA, I got a job tutoring athletes. After my first session, bossman asked if Reggie Miller showed. I said no so he told me to call him up in the dorms and ask him where he was. “Reggie, this is Ron. . .” “Oh man,” he interrupted, “I thought you were a woman!” I told him there wasn’t much I could do about that and he never showed. Not sure if he passed Western Civ, but he’s done okay for himself.

Normally I’m running during Masters swimming which is too bad because I enjoy it. I swim a bit harder and the time flies. I talked to a friend in the locker room who said they did 30 100’s (short course yards) in Masters the day before in honor of a 30 year old teammate. They did them on 1:45, every third IM. I decided to try a revised version, 18 on 1:40, and really liked it. I do the free in 1:21-1:23 which provides a lot of rest, but I do the IM in 1:32-1:36 which obviously doesn’t allow for hardly any recovery.

Cycling has been a mix of spinning indoors and chilly outdoor riding. Travis and I got in a very nice 33 miler last Sunday with temps in the high 30’s. I recently read a blog written by a Hawaiian triathlete and she bagged a ride because it was 64 out. 

Ready for the product recommendation? I can’t wait for the CEO to write and offer free product!

The endurance crowd must be particularly gullible because there are about as many recovery drinks on the market as there are endurance athletes. 

Call me old school, but this recovery drink will change your life. Drive straight to Costco and buy one, two, or twelve half gallons. Don’t forget to dilute it with equal parts skim milk otherwise, no matter how hard you work out, you’ll end up looking more like Oprah than you probably want.

Sorry O, that was uncalled for.