Mister Tristan

Conservative Politics, 2012...and Ultrarunning

2012-02-11T16:35:00.000-05:00

Via David Atkins at Hullabaloo on 7 Feb 2012:

Forget all the other insanity this year and simply focus on this: Republicans are poised to take a stand this year against contraception, Medicare, and middle class tax cuts. If that doesn't seem bizarre to you, step back, and focus your lens out to the past 40 years of American politics. Try to picture those stances being taken openly by a majority of Republicans during, say, the first Bush Administration in 1989. It's hard to fathom. That Republican Party was alive and well only 20 years ago.

--SNIP--

Threatening to end Medicare, middle-class tax cuts and contraception? No problem--that's just politics as usual. But threatening even mild forms of protectionism, or even the slightest corrections to the behavior of out-of-control capital markets? That's scary crazy talk.

As long as no one gets in the way of the almighty bond markets, the Very Serious People couldn't care less. It's not like they're middle class, need Medicare, or can't get their contraceptives from overseas. So why worry?

The connection to Ultrarunning is that, as I have stated many times, is that we UR types tend to be more-laid back and open-minded than the populace at large. However, when it comes to the erosion of rights of the regular folk to the benefit of the already-haves, maybe it's time to break out the torches and pitchforks.

For gutting Medicare is wrong (likewise gutting Social Security). Contraception?--that's a no-brainer--the absolute right of a woman to control her reproduction should never be under political discussion. Never.

Ego and Ambition...and Ultrarunning

2012-02-10T06:05:00.002-05:00

Posted to the Ultra List on 25 Jan by Dana Rouche, who makes an excellent point on understanding why we decide to do things. My comments follow at the end.

Deb, while reading this thread, I am reminded of one of my favorite pieces about running which took me almost 40 yrs of running to learn. While planning your 100 mile run barefoot, make sure you spend time really understanding your reason for doing it.

From the Zen of Running, 1974, Fred Rohe

you can be victimized
by your imagination
if you imagine yourself
astonishing your world
with your progress and prowess.

we know this mechanism as Ego.

we know this state as Ambition.

being Great Runners
is not the attainment we need.

it is self control.

without it, ego forces us into ambition
and the price of ambition
is pain.

let's not be egotistical,
let's take it easy.

I can freely admit that at least part of the allure of Ultrarunning for me is the reaction of astonishment that I get from more sedentary folks about my ability to run vast distances. Now, we Ultrarunners don't think of it as a big deal, it's just a predisposition and skill set that we came with and/or cultivated. But to the uninitiated, it's kinda superhuman.

For me, for maybe many of us, Ultrarunning is perhaps the single area in my life that I can confidently assert that I really KNOW, can be looked to as a sort of expert, and am comfortable in defending my opinions. I'm a quiet sort of person. In most other areas of my life I am rather deferential, seek to stay below the radar, and above all else avoid controversy, since I am a terrible arguer. I can't think well or quickly on my feet and just stay away from that vulnerability.

Climate Change...and Ultrarunning

2012-02-09T06:05:00.000-05:00

No sir, global warming is a hoax! From the U.S. Government itself:

WASHINGTON-The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) today [25 Jan 2012] released the new version of its Plant Hardiness Zone Map (PHZM), updating a useful tool for gardeners and researchers for the first time since 1990 with greater accuracy and detail. The new map-jointly developed by USDA's Agricultural Research Service (ARS) and Oregon State University's (OSU) PRISM Climate Group-is available online. ARS is the chief intramural scientific research agency of USDA.

Compared to the 1990 version, zone boundaries in this edition of the map have shifted in many areas. The new map is generally one 5-degree Fahrenheit half-zone warmer than the previous map throughout much of the United States.

Human-caused global climate change has the potential to render moot all of our leisure pursuits, such as Ultrarunning, in deference to sheer survival. While naysayers exist, the vast preponderance of climate scientists all concur that climate change is real, it's human-caused, and could spell doom for the planet.

Given what's at stake, one would think that the conservative point of view would logically be, "It'd be safest to plan on worst-case." Yet their general position seems to be the exact opposite. Have they no children? No grandchildren?

I think it's a case of follow the money, and not wanting to sacrifice present standards of wealth and living. To quote Upton Sinclair,

It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.

Super Bowl Thoughts...and Ultrarunning

2012-02-08T06:10:00.000-05:00

Thoughts for a couple days after the Super Bowl....

1. I will always hate the Patriots for the cheating shenanigans of their coach, Bill Belichick, busted in 2007. For crying out loud, your team is good enough, you don't have to cheat. Now whenever I see you all I can think is CHEATER. Forever.

See here and here for a couple representative stories, in case you forgot.

2. Why do owners always wear suits to a football game? Not just the Super Bowl, but in any NFL game where they show the owner's box, the dudes are wearing suits. Just for once I would love to see an owner in jeans and a sweatshirt or team jersey, like a normal person would wear to a game.

3. It was a great game, well-played and interesting, all the way to the end. But maybe closer than it should have been?...see point 1 above, 'cause we just don’t know whether the cheaters cheated in this one, do we?

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? Somehow I think that the prevalence of cheating in our sport is pretty minimal. Not nonexistent, just insignificant. You may counter with the fact that it's only because the stakes are low in Ultrarunning and not much $$ is involved. But somehow I truly believe that the character of our practitioners is higher than the populace at large.

Can I prove that? Nope, but it's still true.

Craters

2012-02-07T07:04:00.000-05:00

Via Bad Astronomy this very cool dual crater shot. If this site isn't on your blogroll to scope out a couple times a week, yours is the great loss.

Obviously, that's a volcano on the right: Emi Koussi, in northern Africa. But look to the left, almost at the edge of the picture. See that faded ring? That's Aorounga - an impact crater, some 10 - 15 km wide, formed when a chunk of cosmic debris hit the Earth about 300 million years ago! So these are two craters, one formed from processes happening deep below the Earth, and one from events from far above. Yet both can be seen at the same time, from one vantage point: orbiting our planet somewhere above the surface but beneath the rest of the Universe.

Kinda makes you feel a bit small and insignificant....

Dead Giraffes...and Ultrarunning

2012-02-06T06:09:00.001-05:00

[photo and article credit Daily Mail]

Tourist trophy hunters are paying thousands of pounds to go and shoot giraffes with high-powered guns and bows.

The gentle giants are loved around the world for their comical appearance and gentle nature.

Just like character 'Melman' played by Friend's-star David Schwimmer in Disney's Madagascar, they are a hit with kids who love their long necks and eyelashes.

But shocking images show how scores of big-spending men and women - and even families - travel from across the globe, some even from Britain, to kill them for sport.

Something bad must have happened to these people when they were children, a subject previously posted about here.

Let me recap this topic in a few simple words.

Subsistence hunting = OK

Trophy hunting = sick

Note: I recognize the fact that there probably is a middle ground, comprised of people who hunt, who love the outdoors, who do use the meat they shoot, get no special joy out of the act of killing, and who don't much care for trophies. But the giraffe people above are over the line.

And the link to Ultrarunning is that I like to think we get a special joy of out seeing live animals in the backcountry, critters that the vast majority of sedentary people will only ever see in a zoo. That's one of our rewards of this wonderful sport.

Cats in Art: The Son of Francois Thomas de Baculard d'Arnaud (Greuze)

2012-02-05T05:55:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I am using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Image credit here. The Son of Francois Thomas de Baculard d'Arnaud, Jean-Baptiste Greuze, 1776, oil on canvas, held by Musee des Beaux-Arts, Troyes, France.

Zuffi's analysis:

This boy, his hair and clothes in the style that was fashionable at the time, is portrayed by the French artist holding a kitten in his arms, in keeping with the new trend that had emerged in 18th century English painting.

The cat is obviously quite annoyed and undoubtedly detonated soon after this image was captured.

Turnabout = Fair Play

2012-02-04T06:10:00.000-05:00

Via Boing Boing on 30 Jan 2012:

To protest a bill that would require women to undergo an ultrasound before having an abortion, Virginia State Sen. Janet Howell (D-Fairfax) on Monday attached an amendment that would require men to have a rectal exam and a cardiac stress test before obtaining a prescription for erectile dysfunction medication.

From the comments, here's the reason the underlying proposed requirement for an ultrasound is wrong:

Because the ultrasound used at such an early stage is what they call a "transvaginal ultrasound" (i.e. they insert the device into the vaginal canal). Which is to say, it's an invasive procedure that could be quite traumatic for, say, a rape survivor. Unless there's an actual medical need for it, it's essentially just being used as a kind of punishment. It has nothing to do with showing "a baby" because what you'd see, in the average abortion, is something like this.

Again, to paraphrase the bride, "Why is it that old men in suits are always the ones setting up the rules about abortion?"

Massanutten 100 Mile Run, Revisited

2012-02-03T05:54:00.001-05:00

Recently I was on I-81 southbound in northeastern Virginia...the site of the Massanutten 100 Mile Run.

Just below Front Royal, off to my left I could see the spine of the Massanutten range of mountains, a 2000’ high ridge that runs some 50ish miles in the Shenandoah Valley between the Blue Ridge to the east (of Skyline Drive fame) and North Mountain to the west (the first ridge of the main body of the Alleghenies).

Two sights that I remember well are Short Mountain, famously described to me by Anstr Davidson of the Virginia Happy Trails Running Club (VHTRC) as being a “3-bottle section.” And Bird Knob, the turn-around point of the race, just south of the gap in the Massanutten range for U.S. Route 211.

I ran the race in 1998 as my first attempt and first finish of a 100 mile trail run. The run came perilously close to kicking my butt. See my race report, over at Stan Jenson’s marvelous site.

Please note, however, that in my report when I describe Atlas Shrugged as an “awesome work” I was speaking strictly of how well-written it was as a novel—to me, Rand’s political and economic theories are pure crap (see my Rev. Martin Luther King post for more on that).

And I wanted to use a quote that Rand just happened to write, that has no relation to Ultrarunning but sounds like it does:

He knew that he felt an odd, joyous, light-hearted self confidence. He knew that these were the right steps down the trail he had glimpsed.

Groundhog Day...and Ultrarunning

2012-02-02T05:57:00.001-05:00

I am writing this the day prior, and I am absolutely certain that the rodent is gonna predict 6 more weeks of winter.

[photo credit here]

Why? Because it's slated to be a pretty day, near 60 F. Not bad for the dead of winter here in the Mid-Atlantic.

By the way, the festivities at Punxsatawney sound like a real hoot. They have a 50K or 50M in the late summer or early fall that I always have looked at but never run. Maybe this year....

More Road Trip Observations

2012-02-01T06:01:00.000-05:00

I previously posted here about a recent trip to a marble quarry in Georgia (I know, I still have not finished that thread but promise to do so here within a few weeks).

Wanted to add some additional road tripping observations to the 3 previously made in a blog post here (pink houses, crosses large and small, and music). So here are some more observations:

1. Roadside kitties. We all have seen those intent cats hunting in the grass right beside the interstate, right? Ever notice how the preponderance of such kitties are black, or largely so, in color? At least that’s the stereotype I have.

2. Paralyzed Veterans of America. The radio carried a poignant commercial for this organization. I cannot comment upon whether, as charities go, this charity is a good one in terms of a favorable admin-cost-to-program-cost ratio. What I do want to observe is my utter disgust at the fact that paralyzed veterans need an advocacy group to lobby for their rights, programs, and services. When a service member is injured, they deserve lifelong treatment for that injury. 100%. By the government that sent them into harm's way. As the Earth Bound Misfit said here:

If we, as a nation, are unwilling to shoulder the financial burden of caring for our military retirees and veterans, then this is what we should do: Stop making so many veterans by getting into wars. When the shooting starts, there are going to be maimed veterans who will need care for the next eighty years. If that cost is unacceptable to the politicians, then stop sending men and women off to fight. No fighting, no combat veterans to care for-- that should be a simple enough equation for even most politicians to grasp.

3. The Dude. On I-81 in VA, I saw a semi with the name on the cab, “Dude Smith Trucking.” The name struck me, as I am not particularly into nicknames (previous post here). Dude seems not to have a web site, but his Facebook page is here.

My burning question is whether all of Dude’s friends called him Dude for so long that it just became the name he goes by. Or scarier yet, did he get up one day and just decide, “You know, I want to be called Dude from now on”?

See, the nickname “Dude” has already been claimed, forever, by Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski. This joker in Virginia is an impostor.

The official Big Lebowski trailer here. A curse-filled (and funnier) clip is here.

My New Ultra License Plate

2012-01-31T10:20:00.000-05:00

[Photo by Mister Tristan, the now-4-year-old human being, not the blog]

Back in the Nov 2011 issue of UltraRunning my article on ultra license plates was published.

To celebrate the event, I went ahead and got the ultra plate that I was considering: RUN 50X2. Here in PA, RUN 100S was already taken.

I should confess that for most of my adult life I have kinda looked down upon people who do personalized plates as narcissistic jerks. See, by now referring to them as "personalized plates" and not calling them "vanity plates" I am already distancing myself from my former position.

Truth be told, I like to think I now have a broader perspective and have simply changed my mind on the subject. I fit into the category I identified in my article as "Identifying as an Ultrarunner." Now all I have to do is to flash the plate around at some races...so people can either categorize me as a jerk or as a seasoned Ultrarunner.

Doesn't matter--I got the plate to celebrate an accomplishment of which I am very proud--publication of an article in a national magazine.

Painted Shoes...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-30T06:02:00.000-05:00

The painted shoe milieu is an as-yet untapped venue for self-expression, courtesy of Boing Boing.

Many Ultrarunners, marching as we do to some different drummers, tend to express our individuality in various ways, such as attention-grabbing outfits or tattoos*. Catra C, for example, is legendary among Ultrarunners for her unconventional appearance.**

But these painted shoes somehow grab me, and I think some experimentation with an old pair of running shoes is in order.

NOTES:

*On tattoos...I think I get it about tattoos, the expression of one’s individuality, etc., although I’m not interested for myself. However...should one of your loved ones ever need a transfusion and you could be a match, a recent tattoo could defer you. With the American Red Cross, getting tattooed in one of the 18 states that do not regulate tattoo parlors precludes your donating blood for one year. If you get tattooed in one of the regulated 32 states, you're OK to donate.

**When I ran the 2010 Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Race, Catra also ran and turned in a great time ahead of me. The Umstead course, with its couple of out-n-back segments, is among the best for providing all runners with glimpses of those both ahead and behind. Seeing her always brought a smile to my face.

Cats in Art: The Toilet (Boucher)

2012-01-29T10:13:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I am using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Here for the second week in a row we have another piece from Francois Bouchet:

Image credit WikiPaintings (click to enlarge). The Toilet, Francois Boucher, 1742, oil on canvas, 21" x 30", held by Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid, Spain.

Zuffi's analysis:

The cat, playing slyly with the ball of thread at the lady's feet, is one of the customary amorous touches of which the artist was fond, like the love letter and the garters left absently on the mantlepiece. It's mewing--barely hinted at--is further confirmation of its complicity, but also a delightful device to illustrate the presence of the painter who is portraying the lady and her maid.

The cat's expression is vey realistic to me, caught in the middle of play. Boucher obviously knew his cats. Put a hand down there and better be prepared for a scratch or play bite.

Engineering Flowchart...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-28T05:58:00.000-05:00

This from one of my online Marx Train buddies, who probably swiped it from someone else. At any rate, WD-40 and duct tape should be part of the collective commons anyway.

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? There isn't one. I was only kidding.

BUT WAIT!! On second thought, many of us have indeed used duct tape to hold together our gear, or on our feet to prevent blisters. I've tried the foot thing and frankly, I'd rather have the blisters.

That said, there are many elaborate schemes using duct tape for the blister thingy. Just Google duct tape + blisters.

Road Trips, Pink Houses..and Ultrarunning

2012-01-27T05:53:00.003-05:00

[photo by Gary]

Made a road trip last week to Georgia and back over 2 days, some 650 miles each way. More later on the reason for the trip (it’s all good) but what I wanted to post about was some road tripping observations.

1. Pink House. Photo above is of the old pink marble home of the company president of the quarry I went to. Of course, the Mellencamp song applies (here, clip from Farm Aid 2008, in case the embed does not work):

2. Crosses, big and small. I saw several huge Christian crosses at churches, a couple of which were identical. So I guess there’s now a company somewhere whose niche this is. Oh, and I pronounce it “nitch,” not “neesh” like the talking heads on the radio do. And tons--too many--of small crosses where people were killed in traffic accidents.

A friend of mine lost his daughter in an auto accident, and in a quiet moment I asked him whether he was drawn to the spot of her death. He said no, it had no special draw for him...but he did like to go to the cemetery and talk to his daughter at her grave. He told me this softly, but not apologetically or sheepishly.

I don’t know what I’d do. I get the idea of the roadside cross, and I get the cemetery thing as well. Both do not compute on a purely scientific basis, but whatever helps you get thru the loss of a loved one is a good thing—I’m not going to judge, as I’ve not walked in those shoes.

3 Lots of good music. The most coincidental was probably the John Mellencamp tune above, which actually played shortly before I saw and photographed the real pink marble house. Also in the truck's console I found an old compilation cassette tape, a birthday gift to me from by buddy Don, way back in 1984.

That's 28 years ago! And it still played! Of all the mixed tunes on the tape, the one I particularly loved all over again was Rosalita by Bruce Springsteen, (here in case embed fails):

The Boss sure gets cooking in this tune! And does anyone else also think that his style is very reminiscent of Van Morrison?...or maybe it's the reverse?

At any rate, I love road trips, and this was a wonderful journey. My Dad was an over-the-road trucker back in the 1950s, and a proud member of the Teamster's union. I like to joke that I inherited what I affectionately refer to as the "Teamster gene."

Maybe that's what compels me to run vast distances on foot?

Cranes...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-26T06:01:00.000-05:00

If you love birds, and who doesn't, this video is absolutely worth 101 seconds of your time.

I saw this at Shakesville, where Melissa explains:

Description: Video, from a new BBC special called "Earthflight," of common cranes flying over Venice. What's remarkable is that the video is shot from among the V of the flying cranes, getting in slow-motion and amazing detail every feather and every sinuous move of the cranes' lovely long necks.

How did they do it? "Common cranes have been hand-reared to fly alongside a microlight to capture these images. Earthflight uses many different filming techniques to create the experience of flying with birds."

Videos like these remind me again how big and varied and old Nature is, and how young and brash and self-centered humans are. The chance to see critters in the wild, doing wild critter things, is absolutely one of the best things about our sport.

So many of my friends and co-workers have no idea of what mammals or birds are endemic to our area...and sadly, don't particularly care and have no notion of the natural treasures that they are missing.

I've previously posted about other species of cranes here.

Blowing Up a Car With Flaming Tampons...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-25T06:01:00.000-05:00

From the Chambersburg (PA) Public Opinion, my local paper, a tale of a hapless couple:

A man and woman are charged with vandalizing a car and trying blow it up with flaming tampons outside a Metal Township bar.

Patricia Elyse Deshong, 25, of 8962 Pleasant Ridge Road, Harrisonville, and Quentin Adam Deshong, 22, of 196 N. Clear Ridge Road, Hustontown, are charged in the Jan. 7 incident, according to police charging documents.

Troopers located the Deshongs outside the tavern and arrested them. According to the affidavit, they were intoxicated.

[Patricia Deshong] is also accused of threatening to kill Trooper Gregory Strayer while she was secured to a prisoner bench at the Chambersburg station.

Suffice it to say that these people are not rocket scientists. They tried to ignite tampons stuffed into the gas fill pipe and the oil fill pipe, but the car failed to catch fire, much less blow up.

Susceptibility to detonation is in inverse proportion to real life. In other words, in the movies, cars seemingly spontaneously burst into flames, particularly when zooming off a cliff into space. In the real world, flaming cars are fairly uncommon.

Except on trails. I can't count the number of times I've had to dodge blown up or still-flaming cars in the backcountry. Probably even more common than roots or rocks.

So whenever well-meaning people (non-runners) tell us we better be careful out there, Ultra folk, flaming cars are what they're probably talking about.

Sociopaths in Banking

2012-01-24T05:54:00.000-05:00

Mike the Mad Biologist recently featured a piece by Brian Basham on the subject of sociopaths in the banking industry.

You should read Mike's piece in its entirety, but here are a couple teasers from the original Basham piece:

Cut to a pleasantly warm evening in Bahrain. My companion, a senior UK investment banker and I, are discussing the most successful banking types we know and what makes them tick. I argue that they often conform to the characteristics displayed by social psychopaths. To my surprise, my friend agrees.

He then makes an astonishing confession: “At one major investment bank for which I worked, we used psychometric testing to recruit social psychopaths because their characteristics exactly suited them to senior corporate finance roles.”

Here was one of the biggest investment banks in the world seeking psychopaths as recruits.

Mike goes on to say:

There is no way to understand the collapse of Big Shitpile [the international financial collapse] without understanding the criminal mind. This is as much a problem of fraud, as it is macroeconomics (and microeconomics). We would be better served by listening to professors from criminal justice and psychology departments, as opposed to economics departments.

We are so screwed.

Sun Tea...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-23T04:55:00.000-05:00

[photo by Gary]

Finally here in the northeast, we've gotten our first snow (if you discount the freak snow back at the end of October). Even in the depths of the winter, we usually keep a jug of sun tea in the refrigerator. The sun's low, weak rays are still enough to work the magic of sun tea.

This is one of my favorite post-run ways to rehydrate. I am always surprised how much sweat I lose even in the winter.

Oh, and it's unsweetened, of course. After all, I'm north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Cats in Art: The Beautiful Kitchen Maid (Boucher)

2012-01-22T10:37:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. Thus far I have been using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Image credit Arts Prints on Demand (click to enlarge). The Beautiful Kitchen Maid, Francois Boucher, 1732, oil on canvas, 16" x 12", held by Musee Cognacq-Jay, Paris, France.

Zuffi's analysis:

Boucher's woman can only be accompanied by the domestic animal par excellence, which resembles her in its sensibilities and behavior, and is perhaps also a silent, harmless witness to her fetes galantes. In this pantry there must therefore be a cat, a spectator and accomplice to the amorous idyll, but also a customary denizen of larders and food stores.

My take differs a bit. My first impression of the painting is that the cat looks demonic, in contrast to the rest of the "innocence (maybe) lost" theme. While Zuffi considers the cat to be benign, it looks to me to embody the darker potential of the situation.

Also, take note of the size of this painting: only 16" x 12". Boucher certainly packs a lot of detail into such a tiny space!

Liberals and Conservatives

2012-01-21T06:00:00.001-05:00

Seeing how this is still the tail end of the week in which we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King day, it's appropriate to highlight this succinct post.

It points out one critical difference, perhaps the critical difference, between liberals and conservatives.

Via Digby, a post by David Atkins (16 Jan 2012)

MLK: "Life's most persistent and urgent question is: 'What are you doing for others?'"

Ayn Rand: "If any civilization is to survive, it is the morality of altruism that men have to reject."

Atkins then comments:

Conservatives get to claim one or the other. They can't have both. And if they pick door #2, they can't have this guy, either.

I can't add anything to that. When somebody else nails it, you quote and offer thanks.

Springer Mountain...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-20T06:17:00.000-05:00

[Appalachian Trail plaque on Springer Mountain, image credit Wikipedia]

Last weekend I found myself mere miles from Springer Mountain, Georgia, the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. The place is legendary, as the jumping off point for most thru-hikers (most of whom choose to head south-to-north).

However--and more on this part of the story will come in a later post--I did not have the time and the daylight on this personal trip to head over there and do a trail run up to the summit where the AT actually starts.

Over my career I have had countless business trips, and one of my prime directives was always to scope out the local trail running possibilities. As a result I have run in some pretty cool places that I otherwise would never have seen in this lifetime. Unfortunately, this trip's logistics of necessity precluded any running.

Being that close to Mecca was heartbreaking but there will be future trips to northern Georgia. And I have an unfulfilled date with Springer Mountain.

Urinating Upon the Dead

2012-01-19T06:10:00.013-05:00

I've consciously refrained from comment upon the story of the 4 Marines urinating on dead Taliban bodies, but it's time, because I have a somewhat different take on the story. See here for a network news story.

Couple observations to set the stage:

When you send young guns to war, it's hard to shut off that kill-or-be-killed instinct and be "respectable" and play by the rules.
Desecrating the bodies of your enemies is a time-honored tradition and is nothing new (it's still wrong, wrong, wrong).

That said, I find it remarkable that so much rage and disapproval is being heaped upon these 4 Marines for an act that I find understandable, though not appropriate. They knew better--especially in the digital age--and deserve some reprimand, but not a destroyed career.

But what I really find totally and strangely absent from the dialog is any disapproval of the fact that there are bodies in the first place to be urinated upon.

It's like the 800 pound gorilla in the room peed (to continue the theme) on the floor, and everybody says, "Ewww--there's a mess over there!" and go on at great length about 1) how uncouth that gorilla is, or 2) how it's only doing gorilla things. Yet the puddle on the floor is only the proximate issue...and nobody bothers to address the ultimate issue of why the gorilla is even there in the first place.

Let me try another analogy about cause and effect that applies here. It's kinda like a post I did here, linking to a great post by the Earth Bound Misfit, regarding moaning over how much our military vets would cost us over future years. She said:

If we, as a nation, are unwilling to shoulder the financial burden of caring for our military retirees and veterans, then this is what we should do: Stop making so many veterans by getting into wars. When the shooting starts, there are going to be maimed veterans who will need care for the next eighty years. If that cost is unacceptable to the politicians, then stop sending men and women off to fight. No fighting, no combat veterans to care for-- that should be a simple enough equation for even most politicians to grasp.

How long have we been in Afghanistan--10+ years, right? Shouldn't that have been more than enough time for the Very Serious People in DC to have wrapped this thing up and gotten us out of there?

Now we have the Secretary of State--and normally I am a Hillary Clinton fan--making noises about possible war crimes? War Crimes? Are you serious? Before we do that, where's the prosecution of President Bush and his minions for deliberately taking us, under false pretenses, into an unnecessary war in Iraq? Oh, and for the torture, too. There's your 800 pound gorilla, not the actions of 4 Marines.

I am reminded of a recent comment I read somewhere, about a guy in his early 60s who fervently hoped he would outlive President Bush.

Why? The thing that kept this guy going was the goal of being able to urinate on Bush's grave.

Golf Balls, Again...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-18T06:00:00.001-05:00

Well, it's happened again--finding yet another golf ball while running along a rural road where no self-respecting golf ball ought to be.

I've previously noted this phenomenon here, and I still have no cogent explanation. But it happens enough--say 5 or 6 times a year--to seem to be a bit more than random chance.

I'm glad that I took up Ultrarunning first, as there would be no time in my life for golf as well. Both sports (and in the case of golf I use the term "sport" extremely loosely) are notorious time suckers.

Dr. Martin Luther King...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-17T08:15:00.000-05:00

Life is interfering with blogging...this is a repost; originally ran on 18 Jan 2010.

Further note: this should have automatically posted on Monday but it did not. So here it is a day late.

Read on, it's short, and there is in fact a connection to UltraRunning.

On this, the Federal Holiday instituted to honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., please ponder two brief quotes. Inasmuch as my family contains members who are white, black or mixed, and who are all loved equally and without reservation, Dr. King and his legacy have special meaning to us.

“I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., 1963

And of course there’s the promised Ultra connection, right?

“We have the right to walk to Montgomery if our feet can get us there.” – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., 1965

Rest in peace, gentle man. I often repeat your Montgomery words for inspiration and strength when I am struggling in the latter stages of an Ultra. Moreover, I thank you for your words of hope for a racially agnostic world.

Wesley the Owl—and Ultrarunning

2012-01-17T06:16:00.001-05:00

Life is interfering with blogging...this is a repost; originally ran on 8 Jul 2010.

Just completed a wonderful book, Wesley the Owl, by Stacey O’Brien. It’s a true story about a young researcher at Cal Tech, Stacey, who fosters an injured barn owl from infancy thru his ultimate passing at the ripe old owl age of 19. She writes lovingly and compellingly of her lifelong relationship with Wesley. It’s full of love, science, spiritualism, and is just a delightful and memorable book.

Photo credit here.

You should go read it.

Here’s one example of the science part. Although I have a couple degrees in Biology, I never quite understood the Northern Spotted Owl issue from the Pacific northwest. Sure, I knew that logging was threatening this owl and I—of course—was on the side of the owl, thinking that those who favored logging were shortsighted and uninformed. But here’s why (from page 164):

Biologists were warning the public that the old-growth forests, a delicate habitat that can’t be replaced, were disappearing at an alarming rate. The streams and rivers were silting and warming up, destroying the salmon runs and the entire ecosystem because of the runoff from clear-cut areas. The apex predator of these forests, the northern spotted owl, was endangered. When the apex predator is thriving, then so is the environment. But when the predator is faltering, biologists know that means the entire system is falling apart.

Most of the loggers didn’t understand the “canary in the coal mine” connection and thought the entire issue was about saving the owls, rather than their habitat. Because the loggers had been told to stop destroying the ancient forests before the forests were completely gone, they would lose their livelihoods sooner than if they kept cutting down trees until the entire ecosystem went extinct. Focusing only on their own livelihoods, they didn’t want to be told what to do, got angry, and took it out on the owls….

They didn’t understand—or they just chose not to—and they reminded me of the buffalo hunters of the nineteenth century determined to hunt down every last animal. They failed to see that they were going to have to find something else to do anyway after the last buffalo was gone.

We who run trails and treasure them can learn a lesson from this analogy. Our areas that are wild and free are a precious—and finite—resource. Nobody is making any more wilderness. So that’s why we must fight tooth and nail to preserve what we have, set aside more threatened areas, and ensure that encroachments from mineral rights, logging, etc., are not permitted.

Cats in Art: Fur Traders Descending the Missouri

2012-01-15T06:12:00.002-05:00

Life is interfering with blogging...this is a repost; originally ran on 16 Jul 2010.

The above photo is entitled Fur Traders Descending the Missouri, by George Caleb Bingham (1811–1879), painted in 1845, oil on canvas, dimensions 29 x 36 1/2 inches. Credit for the image here.

Why post this? I love cats, I love art, and this is a natural confluence. I've decided that I'm going to do a continuing series of posts on instances of cats appearing in works of art. I've previously done this here, when I posted on a 122 Year Old Cat in a Night Cafe, based upon a painting by Paul Gauguin, with an adorable kitty under the table.

The cat really is the focus of this Bingham painting. The two men are backgrounded by the island, while the cat is silhouetted by the pale river as background and pops from the image. I wonder if Bingham strategically placed the cat in the bow of the boat for purposes of realism, or if he was just a cat lover and used the painting as a venue to get a kitty in there.

Also, think about the title--Fur Traders Descending the Missouri. This implies that their trapping journey is nearly over (also evidenced by the pile of furs on the canoe). So the cat, presumably, was along for the entirety of the trip, unless they got the kitty from Indians (who only had dogs as domestic animals, I think).

That's one loyal cat. Wonder how many lives he/she used up on the trip?

Paved-Over Souls...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-14T06:03:00.001-05:00

Here's one of the reasons we become--and remain--Ultrarunners:

Our kinship with the Earth must be maintained, otherwise, we will find ourselves trapped in the center of our own paved-over souls with no way out.

Quote attributed to John Steinbeck, from the Fall 2011 issue of Sylvanian, the quarterly publication of the PA chapter of the Sierra Club.

Call it a battery recharge or communing with Nature or what have you, we come from the Earth and to the Earth we will return. In the meanwhile, we can retain that connection via spending time in the backcountry.

Now, whether you run trails as we do, or walk, matters not; what does matter is being out there.

Hard Fall, New Watch

2012-01-13T06:00:00.001-05:00

Photo by Gary.

Left to right: Old watch. New watch.

Couple weeks back I was running home from dropping my car off at the garage in what I like to call a "destination run," previously blogged about here.

Well, it was pre-sunrise and still dark. As a car approached I got as close to the edge of the road as possible without getting onto the shoulder. Then I suddenly went down hard and fast as though somebody had lassoed my feet.

Turns out a woody roadside plant has extended a 1" branch just onto the edge of the macadam. It was low enough that the mowers wouldn't get it. But my left toe sure did.

I leaped up as quickly as I could so as not to freak out the car that by now was going by, like "I'm OK!"

Turns out I was OK but my trusty Timex Ironman, my gold standard of running watches, got cracked across its face in the fall. I purchased a new one, but of course the latest Ironman model was now slightly different. Thankfully the buttons seem largely the same so hopefully no huge learning curve to overcome.

Rest in peace, old Ironman, you served me well.

2011 Running Recap

2012-01-12T05:57:00.001-05:00

I have repeatedly said here that I am a low-mileage Ultrarunner. For example, here are my summary stats from last year:

1186 miles (average 99 miles/month)
173 runs
6.9 average miles per run
Longest runs: a pair of 50K races (May & Oct)

My training has been like this for years and has enabled me to decently complete 50K, 50M, and 100M races. So you don't have to sell your soul to the sport to be successful, provided:

You have a long base (in my case, running since 1979), and
Long runs in prep for specific events (i.e., three or four 35 milers to get ready for a 100M).

Good luck in 2012!

When a "Cut" is Really an Increase

2012-01-11T07:56:00.000-05:00

Watch Weeks After Iraq Withdrawal, Obama Announces Plans to Shrink U.S. Military on PBS. See more from PBS NewsHour.

Credit to PBS, here. The relevant segment is at 1:17 and is short.

Last week (5 Jan 2012) at the Pentagon, President Obama announced plans to restructure our defense spending. I've been all over the usual news sources but somehow this quote, straight out of the mouth of the President, did NOT become front page news.

I found it via Corrente, who lead me thru Steve Clemons (who, by the way, thinks Obama should dredge up former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld to oversee the cuts to the military), and ultimately to the PBS clip above. Here's the transcript of the quote I want to highlight:

BARACK OBAMA: Over the next 10 years, the growth in the defense budget will slow, but the fact of the matter is this. It will still grow. In fact, the defense budget will still be larger than it was toward the end of the Bush administration. And I firmly believe, and I think the American people understand that we can keep our military strong and our nation secure with a defense budget that continues to be larger than roughly the next 10 countries combined.

Let me repeat that quote, lest you missed it, with highlighting:

BARACK OBAMA: Over the next 10 years, the growth in the defense budget will slow, but the fact of the matter is this. It will still grow. In fact, the defense budget will still be larger than it was toward the end of the Bush administration. And I firmly believe, and I think the American people understand that we can keep our military strong and our nation secure with a defense budget that continues to be larger than roughly the next 10 countries combined.

In a sane world, people all over the country would have been driven to torches and pitchforks, demanding his ouster. You want to plus up the Pentagon and call it cutting? And with a straight face applaud the fact that the U.S. spends more than the next 10 countries combined, and act like that's somehow a desirable statistic? Seriously? When children in this country are going to bed hungry?

According to CNN, here in the U.S. some 22% of U.S. children are in poverty according to the government's own statistics.

More children in poverty: The poverty rate for children under age 18 increased to 22% in 2010, meaning more than 1 in 5 children in America are living in poverty.

The nation's poverty rate rose to 15.1% in 2010, its highest level since 1993. In 2009, 14.3% of people in America were living in poverty.

About 46.2 million people are now considered in poverty, 2.6 million more than last year.

The government defines the poverty line as income of $22,314 a year for a family of four and $11,139 for an individual. The Office of Management and Budget updates the poverty line each year to account for inflation.

For. The. Children. I guess not.

Bears, Ultrarunning...and the Bible

2012-01-10T06:16:00.001-05:00

Or, don't make fun of bald Ultrarunners... especially in bear country, where many of us run. Bear with me (!) as I set the stage for the actual bear story at the end.

Somewhere I ran across Dan Kimball's blog, where he posts every Wednesday about an unusual sounding Bible verse and tries to offer some explanation of it. Dan comments:

There are plenty of very weird passages from the Bible to be looking at...But I think if we only are reading or focusing on the nice, encouraging cheery verses, then we can subtly only paint one part of the BIble to the exclusion of other parts. Or get only one understanding of God's character and the full Bible narrative and neglecting parts we don't like. It's easy to just focus on the nice, cheery understandable verses (which is needed and wonderful!). But we better not ignore God's Word and also explore the not-so-cheery-verses and not-too-easy-to-understand often weird sounding verses as well.

Now for the actual bear story. Again, quoting Dan Kimball:

A classic and well known almost cliche example of a strange story from the BIble I will start with today is from 2 Kings 2:23-25. The story goes:

"From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some boys came out of the town and jeered at him. “Get out of here, baldy!” they said. “Get out of here, baldy!” He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys."

So basically, Elisha gets made fun of by some youth for being bald. Elisha then calls a curse on them and two bears kill all 42 boys.

For us, the moral of the story: don't make fun of bald Ultrarunners in bear country. Of course, lest you think you'd be safe in making fun of a bald Ultrarunner if, say, you were in Rhode Island or Kansas, states not known for their bear populations, better think twice. You could equally be mauled by a pack of aggressive weasels or raccoons, I suppose.

So better not make fun of anybody anywhere, it's just not nice.

Death From the Skies

2012-01-09T05:58:00.002-05:00

The Washington Post back on 19 Dec took on the Obama administration's drone war. This program may be 100% legal, 100% necessary, and we'd be stupid NOT to do it.

That said, try this on for size. How would we feel if another nation took similar actions against us: designating some target person or persons for violent, unannounced death from the skies, just because they thought assassination was the appropriate action?

Secrecy Defines Obama's Drone War (Karen DeYoung)

Since September, at least 60 people have died in 14 reported CIA drone strikes in Pakistan's tribal regions. The Obama administration has named only one of the dead, hailing the elimination of Janbaz Zadran, a top official in the Haqqani insurgent network, as a counterterrorism victory.

The identities of the rest remain classified, as does the existence of the drone program itself. Because the names of the dead and the threat they were believed to pose are secret, it is impossible for anyone without access to U.S. intelligence to assess whether the deaths were justified.

The administration has said that its covert, targeted killings with remote-controlled aircraft in Pakistan, Yemen, Somalia and potentially beyond are proper under both domestic and international law. It has said that the targets are chosen under strict criteria, with rigorous internal oversight.

It has parried reports of collateral damage and the alleged killing of innocents by saying that drones, with their surveillance capabilities and precision missiles, result in far fewer mistakes than less sophisticated weapons.

Yet in carrying out hundreds of strikes over three years - resulting in an estimated 1,350 to 2,250 deaths in Pakistan - it has provided virtually no details to support those assertions.

Who's the impartial arbiter, the judge, to say whether the claims of the death-dealers are legitimate?

Cats in Art: The Watchful Cat (Williams)

2012-01-08T06:12:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. Thus far I have been using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi. However, today's post comes from a museum note card that my brother sent to the bride for her recent birthday.

Image credit The Metropolitan Museum of Art (click to enlarge). The Watchful Cat, John Alonzo Williams, c. 1940, watercolor on wove paper, 12" x 17", held by The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (but inexplicably not currently on display?!)

The cat is expectantly and excitedly waiting for something good to happen. Probably not a simple petting; more likely the cat is expecting a food treat. Our cats--all 5 of them--display this behavior when meat is being cut, or a bag of cat treats has been gotten out of the cupboard, or when I get out some "cat bubba."

Cat bubba is just one of those tiny cartons of half-and-half that you get in a restaurant. I bring them home if unused. The term "bubba" is our word for a bottle for a baby. You get the picture, I think.

Tales from the Perimeter: Bailed...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-07T05:54:00.000-05:00

Perimeter meaning the 6 mile patrol road inside the fence of the military installation on which I work, where some half a dozen of us comprise a pool of running “talent” and strive to show up for a noontime run a couple times a week if we can escape our desks. We share a lot and these guys are one of the core pillars of my sanity.

Right before Christmas I did the normal noontime perimeter run with my running buddies, then told them about my plans to do a double that day and run a short section of the Appalachian Trail on my way home. I rarely do doubles, but I had a couple hours of vacation time I still had to use or lose, so that was the plan.

However, as we all know, the best laid plans....so here's the confessional email I sent to the guys afterwards:

Gents,

Without sounding too much like Brandon Hantz [from the most recent season of Survivor], I wanted to be up front with you and tell you I wussed out of the trail run.

When I got to my turn off Rt 11 and had to commit, it was raining HARD and I just thought, "I really don't feel like doing this." Plus I was thinking about a number of other stops I needed to do today. So I didn't run.

Please vote for me for the $1M anyway, so I can turn around and give it to somebody.

Sometimes the right running plan is NOT to run.

Praying to Cats

2012-01-06T06:02:00.001-05:00

Amanda at Pandagon recently had a cute post about why it makes more sense to pray to cats than to gods. I tried to cull out a couple from the list to highlight, but they're all good, so here's her list in its entirety:

Ten Reasons to Pray to Cats Instead of Gods

1) Cats are real.

2) Because of this, cats have a marginally better chance of answering your prayers than gods do. For instance, if you pray specifically for purring or for someone to scratch your furniture, your cats can probably get that done for you. Not much else, of course, but something is better than nothing.

3) As my buddy Ross said, "Plus, the cuddling and the purring. They actually deliver on the promise of temporal comfort." Science proves him right!

4) Cats may pee on your bed, but they're not going to send you to hell for all eternity.

5) You'll be able to see with your own eyes that the cats appreciate your prayers, whereas gods tend to be notoriously silent with the gratitude.

6) Cat offspring. God offspring. 'nuff said.

7) By praying to cats, you run no chance of praying to the same thing at the same time as that putrid douchebag Ross Douthat, who used Hitchens' death to write this horrible sentence: "My hope - for Hitchens, and for all of us, the living and the dead - is that now he finally knows why." The "why" in this case is why Christians believe---Douthat studiously ignores other religions making competing claims with his. But since Christians like Douthat believe that non-believers are going to hell, he basically just wished Hitchens was in hell. Maybe he's too stupid to grasp that, or maybe he thinks that you can sin against his god, but he'll let you in anyway so long as you showed proper contempt for women and Muslims. Who fucking knows? Either way, by praying to cats, you have nothing to do with that kind of mindless cruelty remade into "morality" by public displays of piety.

8) Sure, cats enjoy murdering smaller creatures, but they eventually eat them, making good use of the proteins within. If you pray to gods, you have to believe that they make people suffer for no good reason whatsoever.

9) People who may not like cats or who prefer dogs may argue with you about aiming your prayers at cats, but they're unlikely to start a holy war.

10) Cats have never, as far as I know, been used to rationalize denying women reproductive control of their bodies, trapping women in the domestic sphere, or denying gay people their rights. Unlike many gods conjured by humans, cats have no opinion on what you wear, and certainly won't smite you for going about with your hair or your knees uncovered.

I'm partial to 4, 9 and 10. Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? I've said it many times here: Ultrarunners as a demographic are more laid back and sensible than the rest of the population at large. Cats are right up our alley as far as deification goes.

The Sadness of the Short Obituary

2012-01-05T06:11:00.001-05:00

I’ve posted before about Janet Christiansen (most recently here), a former local resident who was murdered in North Carolina back in 2005. Last summer her body was disinterred from its grave in Brown’s Mill Cemetery about half a mile from my home. The purpose of the disinterment was to gather additional forensic evidence, since authorities have recently charged her husband with the murder.

Anyway, I wanted to keep abreast of the case and set up a Google Alert to inform me of any web activity under the search terms “Janet Christiansen.”

A couple weeks ago I got an incidental link to an obituary for one Caleb Christiansen. Here's a short excerpt:

Caleb Christiansen returned to the hands of God on Dec. 14, 2011. He was born in Upland, Calif., on Sept. 10, 1990 to his parents Chris and Janet Christiansen and was loved and cherished by them, his family and everyone who knew him. He moved with his family to Burnet when he was 1 ½ where he lived for the remainder of his short but full life.

This is obviously not the same Janet Christiansen, it’s just a case of two people with the same name. But I was struck by the obituary of this 21 year old, likely because “Caleb” is a name in our family. Plus the fact that while the rest of the write-up tried to be uplifting, it really was fairly short.

And the circumstances of this young man’s death are not mentioned, so my mind naturally assumed either drugs or suicide. Usually if a young person has a fatal disease there’s a mention of memorial contributions to a group dealing with that affliction.

I have some experience with the short obituary. In fact, I still regularly scan the death notices in my local newspaper to see whether I know any of the young dead who would have passed due to a drug overdose.

The tragedy and the waste are so awful and hurtful. My heart goes out to that family out there on the west coast, and for all families who are part of the short obituary.

The Earth is a Bit Older than 6,000 Years

2012-01-04T06:00:00.002-05:00

(image credit Astronomy Picture of the Day).

Via Pharyngula, some concrete ammo to use in discussions with folks who believe in the literal creation story from Genesis. Good science should trump the bad "facts" of young earth creationism, and we do our kids a disservice when we allow stupidity and/or ignorance to reign.

Geoffrey Pearce sent me this argument he uses with creationists, and I thought others might find it useful, too:

I am regularly approached by young Earth creationists (yes, even in the bedlam of sin that is Montreal...) both on the street and at home. If I have the time I try to engage them on the age of Earth, since Earth is something whose existence them and I agree upon. They will tell me that Earth is somewhere between 6,000 - 10,000 years old, and, when prompted, that the rest of the universe is the same age as well. I have taken the approach of responding to this assertion by pulling out a print of the far side of the Moon [see above].

I cannot tell you how handy this is! Once they've had a good look I usually point out that almost all of the craters were formed by asteroids smashing into the planet, and that the Moon has over 250 craters with a diameter of 100 km or more. After explaining that Earth is just as likely to be struck by large asteroids as the Moon (is more likely to be struck, in-fact, due to its greater gravitational well), I then ask them to consider what their time-scale entails: that Earth should be struck every couple of decades by an asteroid capable of completely ejecting an area about the size of New Hampshire (not to pick on New Hampshire). Since such an event has never been observed and there are no well-preserved impact structures anywhere close to this size range, I then suggest to them that the only sensible conclusion is that Earth is much older than they had thought.

I have nothing to add. Except I'd better fold up a copy of that photo and keep it in my wallet.

Extraction...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-03T05:59:00.003-05:00

Via Boing Boing, always a great read, we see this post about how natural gas will ~~not~~ be our salvation.

Over the past few years, I've heard several people in the natural gas industry estimate that the United States is sitting on 100 years worth of natural gas. Every time I've heard the 100-year estimate batted around, it's been presented as a positive thing, a shorthand way of saying, "We've got tons of home-grown energy, people! We don't need to worry about the future of energy at all!"

It's an interesting example of the fundamental disconnect between short-term and long-term thinkers.

All things considered, 100 years is not really a very long time.

All our extraction approaches sorta gloss over the fact that there is just a finite amount of xxxxx in the ground, and once it's gone, it's GONE.

Petroleum is a wonderful case in point. Since, say, 1900 or so, American infrastructure has worshipped at the throne of the internal combustion engine. We've literally paved over a vast chunk of our land to support a mode of transport that is finite and probably doomed.

Even if we successfully move to electric vehicles, where do you think the electricity comes from? Coal, anyone? It burning coal really better for the environment than oil? Oh, and someday the coal will run out, too.

Of course the only rational long-term solution is renewable energy such as solar, wind, tide, geothermal. But I sure don't see the full court press--like the putting a man on the Moon mission of the1960s--that we need.

Better to kick the can down the road and let the kids and grandkids solve it. Or not.

Another example--I've been watching Gold Rush on the History Channel. There's something arresting and compelling about these naive miners trying to strike it rich in Alaska. Anyway, what really strikes me is how they literally have to excavate and wash TONS of gravel just to get a couple of flakes of gold. The scale of rape-and-pillage-the-environment is absolutely stunning.

I've quite familiar with strip mining sites here in my home state of Pennsylvania, and it's awful. What is happening in Alaska to extract gold is worse.

And the link to Ultrarunning? Better enjoy the back country now, because when push comes to shove in a few years or decades, when wilderness is weighed against the precious minerals or oil or gas it contains, guess what'll come out second best?

New Year's Resolution...and Ultrarunning

2012-01-02T10:02:00.000-05:00

[Not my actual Bowflex machine, but one just like it. Image credit here: two tabs will open--close the stupid Lycos Yellow pages tab and look at the other green one]

Not my actual body either, but one just like it...yeah, right! Image credit here]

Well, 2012 is upon us, and unlike many of us who pooh-pooh New Year's resolutions, I happen to love them. I believe in changes, I believe in watershed events, I believe in milestones, so the notion of making a promise to yourself at the symbolic start of a new year resonates with me.

Of course, you could make yourself a promise anytime, but somehow a New Year's resolution carries more weight. Or something.

My Bowflex PowerPro machine has lived in my basement for 15+ years. I use it sporadically, typically starting about 3 months before a major ultra (50 or 100 miles). I use it to strengthen my legs and to also strengthen my upper body, which really helps me in the latter stages of a long race.

Here's one specific benefit example. I tend to run with my shoulders hunched up a bit, and usually after some hours of running I even have trouble looking down at my shoes to see whether they are untied. Not so if my upper body (back, shoulders, etc.) has been toned.

So....I am fully aware of the benefits that would accrue if I would do year-round exercise to strengthen and tone my body. Thus, Bowflex it is, a 3x a week commitment to myself. Today's the day!

Cats in Art: The Washerwoman (Chardin)

2012-01-01T06:08:00.001-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Image credit Fineart-China (click to enlarge). The Washerwoman, Jean-Baptiste Simeon Chardin, 1733, oil on canvas, 14" x 17", held by Hermitage, St. Petersburg, Russia.

Second week in a row for Chardin. Zuffi knows his cats, and explains:

This docile three-colored cat belonged to the artist since 1728 (the year that The Ray was first exhibited). Crouched in an almost perfect oval shape, it too is part of that poetic, inner world that Chardin portrays in his genre scenes and still lifes....

I love me some calico (our present count is 2 of 5), and since he did too, Chardin muts have been a pretty smart guy. Even though he and his kitty have been gone for nearly 300 years, this painting brings them both back to life again.

2011...and Ultrarrunning

2011-12-31T06:12:00.002-05:00

As I've previously blogged, I have been so loving my Sirius XM radio that came with a new vehicle a couple years ago. Of late I've been focusing on the 60s channel, as that was the music I first knew as I came of age.

During our Christmas travels the bride and I spent a number of hours in the car, tuned to the 60s channel. I came to the realization that the 60s began with hopeful, cheery songs, written by carefree musicians who only seemed to be concerned with girls and cars. But be the end of the decade, the music and turned dark and angry as the country came off the rails over our involvement in Vietnam.

Today's music? I can't tell whether it's upbeat or somber. As 2011 draws to a close, I guess I feel sorta nostalgic and a bit sad, I suppose, thinking about the year just passed. Thinking about wars and maiming and death and families destroyed...and children and grandchildren and hopefulness for their lives and futures.

May your 2012 be filled with promise. And many happy miles on our beloved trails.

Gary, blog owner

Airport Security

2011-12-30T05:55:00.000-05:00

If you don't read Boing Boing, you should. It's a geeky but entertainingly readable science blog.

I could point you to many articles, but since I travel frequently I am particularly interested in what security guru Bruce Schneier calls "Security Theater." Here's the latest:

To walk through an airport with Bruce Schneier is to see how much change a trillion dollars can wreak. So much inconvenience for so little benefit at such a staggering cost. And directed against a threat that, by any objective standard, is quite modest. Since 9/11, Islamic terrorists have killed just 17 people on American soil, all but four of them victims of an army major turned fanatic who shot fellow soldiers in a rampage at Fort Hood. (The other four were killed by lone-wolf assassins.) During that same period, 200 times as many Americans drowned in their bathtubs. Still more were killed by driving their cars into deer. The best memorial to the victims of 9/11, in Schneier’s view, would be to forget most of the “lessons” of 9/11.

Before you deluge me with comments to the effect that the lack of deaths PROVES that our counter terrorism efforts are working, you should read the whole article.

Yard Art...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-29T06:13:00.022-05:00

[photo credit Gary]

The bride and I love to collect yard art, and like to think that we only have an eye for tasteful additions to the collection.

Fall is our acquisition time, as our favorite landscape supplier always knocks 30% off at the end of the season. The owl is our latest addition.

I want to call it whimsical but I've come to hate that suddenly-overused word.

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? Down on the C&O Canal this summer I had one of my most interesting wildlife experiences. I stopped to answer the call of nature one morning along the towpath, and just happened to look up. There, on a branch directly above me, was not one, but a pair of barred owls, quietly observing me.

These guys can be large, as large as Great Horned Owls. Had I not needed to pee, I would have run on by, totally oblivious, and missed that wonderful sight. They watched me and I watched them until I quietly ran off, leaving them further undisturbed.

What were the changes of stopping under that tree at the right time? The odds are vanishingly small, and I've never seen barred owls in the wild before or since.

Every run delivers some prize, some gift, some memory, some knowledge.

How to Pet a Kitty

2011-12-28T15:32:00.000-05:00

Somebody on the Ultralist posted a link to a humorous site called The Oatmeal and I clicked over.

It was so worth it, for there I found this particular gem, as well as many others. I am posting the first panel only...to see the entire comic you'll need to head over there.

How to Pet a Kitty

Go ahead...you know you want to....

What I Worry About

2011-12-27T10:29:00.000-05:00

I’ve been running for 32+ years, since 1979, and been trail running since about 1990. Over my trail running “career” my philosophies have evolved.

What I worried about in 1979:

What I worry about now:

Getting lost
Falling
Twisting an ankle
Running out of water
Running out of food
Not getting back before dark

I will say that “worry” is really not the right word. I’m just a bit more cautious than I used to be…I guess it’s because I have more at stake, and the years have taught me that bad things don’t always happen to other people.

Cats in Art: The Ray ( Chardin)

2011-12-25T06:00:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Image credit ibiblio.org, here. The Ray, Jean-Baptiste Simeon Chardin, 1728, oil on canvas, 45" x 57", held by Musée du Louvre, Paris, France.

Zuffi nails it with his comment:

The secret and the magic of Chardin's paintings lie in their cold, sterile light, which seems to saturate objects, and in the intimate absorption that seems to endow them with a timeless existence. The only living presence--and it is very much alive, with its bristling fur and demonic eyes--is the cat, who is more interested in the fish placed on the table than in the hug sea monster in the background.

Cats--always focused, always aware of their situation. Except, in our home, De Beere, who, frankly, is just a klutz.

One other thing to note about The Ray (even given the clue that my series of posts here every Sunday is called "Cats in Art") is that the place where my eye is drawn in this painting is not the grotesque, partially butchered sting ray hanging in the back.

Nope, the cat is what I notice first. And that's the way it should be.

We are So Fracked

2011-12-24T06:01:00.002-05:00

Here in Pennsylvania, Governor Corbett (R) is against any sort of impact fees, regulations, local community controls, etc. when it comes to Marcellus Shale development. Why, you'd think that he was in the pocket of the Marcellus Shale developers (he is).

Via John Cole at Balloon Juice a couple weeks ago, this post, saying "...he was shocked, shocked, I tell you.":

The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency announced Thursday [8 Dec 2011] that fracking - a controversial method of improving the productivity of oil and gas wells - may be to blame for causing groundwater pollution.

The draft finding could have a chilling effect in states trying to determine how to regulate the process.

The practice is called hydraulic fracturing and involves pumping pressurized water, sand and chemicals underground to open fissures and improve the flow of oil or gas to the surface.

The EPA's found that compounds likely associated with fracking chemicals had been detected in the groundwater beneath a Wyoming community where residents say their well water reeks of chemicals.

Health officials advised them not to drink their water after the EPA found hydrocarbons in their wells.

The EPA announcement has major implications for the vast increase in gas drilling in the U.S. in recent years. Fracking has played a large role in opening up many reserves.

John Cole truly understands the big picture:

The most depressing thing about this, though, is what the response to this declaration will be. In a sane universe, it would be an IMMEDIATE cessation of all fracking activity around the nation. Stop. NO MAS. Halt. You simply can not replace poisoned water. So stop until we figure out how to do this safely. We don't live in a sane universe, so what will happen is the Republicans and Blue Dogs from energy states will double down on the calls to disband the EPA, energy lobbyists will triple, and the energy industry will keep on drilling and putting out more and better commercials telling you that toxic sludge is good for you.

Nothing will be done about this until we are well and truly f**ked.

It's already happening. There is no way that drillers can pump all that toxic fracking cocktail into the earth under great pressure and NOT have some of it re-emerge. Basic hydraulics, people.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Mister Tristan...and Bears

2011-12-23T06:07:00.000-05:00

[image credit Gary]

For some reason the other day Mister Tristan (the 3-year-old human being, not the blog) asked a question about bears and remembered seeing a couple last summer at Shenandoah National Park in VA. We try to go there for a mini-vacation every summer.

This summer Mister Tristan was old enough to show interest in the wildlife, and had the opportunity to see many of the critters of Shenandoah. One night when we went for dinner at the Skyland resort restaurant, in the lobby Mister Tristan saw a bear statue, 4'-5' tall, dressed up in a park ranger outfit, but was a bit shy about approaching it too closely.

I took his hand and led him over to the bear, asking him whether he wanted to touch the bear's nose. He said yes, so I lifted him up, whereupon Mister Tristan stuck a finger up the bear's nostril, pulled the finger out, examined it, and announced "No boogies!"

I try to do some trail running at Shenandoah and have been fortunate to have seen many bears over the years. No matter how many times that happens, it ALWAYS is a huge thrill.

Wait, I KNOW This Goat...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-22T06:09:00.000-05:00

Sent to me by my brother Michael, who in turn had gotten it sent to him via email as it makes its way around the net.

See, this goat also occasionally serves as a volunteer at races, having used black magic to temporarily transform itself into human form. Mostly found at road races, this entity may also be present at an occasional Ultra (though the caliber of our Ultra volunteers is almost always above reproach).

This creature is the person you pass as you near the end of the race who tells you that the finish line is only a quarter of a mile thataway, when in reality it is at least another mile.

These people (or goats) will surely burn in Hell. Wait, perhaps that's where they come from.

The Pixilated Side-Boob....

2011-12-21T06:09:00.003-05:00

...Morality Politics, and Ultrarunning

Well, the 23^rd season of Survivor is history. One might quibble with Sophie winning the $1M rather than Coach, but hey, it’s just an entertaining game (that many contestants and fans take far too seriously).

The bride and I quite enjoy the show and faithfully watch every episode. Two of my noontime running buds also are fans, and we have many a spirited discussion while we run the perimeter of our military base.

Anyway…back to the title of this post. Last week’s Survivor episode was interesting in that there were multiple camera shots in which one of Sophie's breasts was somewhat visible in profile through the armhole of her tank top. The Survivor producers pixilated that part of the image, but it happened across multiple shots and so the pixilation became a technological distraction.

I get it—CBS needed those scenes of some key interplay in the game, and to make the shots usable for a prime time show they had to blur the image out. No problem, they did the right thing for a family show. But the pixilated side-boob got me thinking about morality politics, and that can be dangerous.

I thought again of just how the Republicans as a group to me seem abnormally fixated on morality issues, and not just of a sexual nature. Witness the near fetish they have for trying to endow fertilized eggs with personhood as a way of torpedoing Roe v. Wade and abortion rights; fervent support for public displays of the Ten Commandments; pushing for (Christian) prayer in schools; promoting school vouchers as a way of keeping kids from being tainted by the public school environment; reflexive inclusion of the Pledge of Allegiance--to include of course, “Under God”--at as many public venues as possible.

All of this comes under the symbology of the pixilated side-boob. It’s a proxy for the moral failings of the unwashed Democratic masses. All the while the righteous right ignores the fact that the economy is in the toilet, poverty is at an all-time high, millions of people still are without jobs or health care, and saber-rattling in the direction of Iran is becoming a steady drumbeat. But watch out for those pixilated side-boobs.

Never mind, too, that the Congress has utterly forgotten the absolute truism that “you can’t legislate morality.” Incoming freshmen and freshwomen should have that slogan tattooed on the back of their writing hand so they will see it hundreds of times every single day. You. Can’t. Legislate. Morality. [see note 1 below]

So give it up, dear leaders. Forget about the various pixilated side-boob issues that fall under the umbrella of trying to prescribe morality. Just focus on people’s basic welfare and needs. Sorta like that new testament dude talked about.

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? I’ve been in many trail races, where both male and female competitors are out there for dozens of miles and hours. We eat, burp, pee, fart and poop and guess what? We’re all athletes using our working bodies and so it’s not a big deal. The pixilated side-boob would be such a non-issue on the trail.

[Note 1]. I was curious who first said this, that you can't legislate morality. The quote used the word "precribe" instead of "legislate", and appears to be attributed to R.M. MacIver (1882–1970), Scottish sociologist, educator. The Modern State, ch. 5, Oxford University Press (1926).

What then is the relation of law to morality? Law cannot prescribe morality, it can prescribe only external actions and therefore it should prescribe only those actions whose mere fulfillment, from whatever motive, the state adjudges to be conducive to welfare. What actions are these? Obviously such actions as promote the physical and social conditions requisite for the expression and development of free—or moral—personality.... Law does not and cannot cover all the ground of morality. To turn all moral obligations into legal obligations would be to destroy morality.

More Emily Dickinson and Ultrarunning

2011-12-20T05:47:00.009-05:00

Last week (10 Dec 1830) was the birthday of Emily Dickinson, the famous New England poet of the mid 1800s.
The Writer's Almanac noted this date. Ms. Dickinson seemed rather normal until she was a young adult, then seemingly became more and more closeted and reclusive, eventually scarcely venturing from her home at all.

Over the years, scholars have done a lot of speculating about Dickinson, coming up with all sorts of theories. Last year, a biographer named Lyndall Gordon suggested that Dickinson was epileptic, and that her epilepsy explained her seclusion, the rhythm and content of her poetry, and even her famous white dress, which according to Gordon was white for sanitary reasons. Various critics have tried to prove that her seclusion was the result of a broken heart, and have offered up any number of men in her life as the possible heartbreaker. A few years ago, a scholar named Carol Damon Andrews published an article claiming that Dickinson was engaged to her brother's friend George Gould, but that her father broke it up because Gould was too poor, and that Dickinson's love poems are written to Gould. There is also the popular theory that she was a closeted lesbian, possibly in love with her sister-in-law, Susan. Other scholars have diagnosed Dickinson with SAD, seasonal affective disorder.

Many people think that there is no one answer for Dickinson's seclusion — but that above all, she was driven by a fierce desire to write poetry, and she chose to sacrifice everything else for that. Allen Tate said: "All pity for Miss Dickinson's 'starved life' is misdirected. Her life was one of the richest and deepest ever lived on this continent."

I've blogged about her before, here, but I continue to imagine what it would be like to see the natural world through her eyes, wondering what she might make of trail running, and the physical and mental boundaries that it expands.

Her attention to the details of nature--plants, animals, inanimate objects--as revealed in her poetry is quite remarkable. She certainly knew the motivating forces that compel many of us to head to and love the backcountry.

Eta Caninae and Creationism

2011-12-19T05:47:00.000-05:00

Eta Carinae (image credit National Geographic)

From the science blog Pharyngula, P. Z. Myers has been running some posts from readers on the topic Why I am an Atheist.

One particular post I liked for its astronomy angle came in from Michael Baizley, in which he raises an interesting conundrum for proponents of the young earth theory (i.e., 6,000 year old):

Increasing scientific knowledge did nothing to quell my views on god's creation. Seeing as my favorite star [see NOTE below] was eight thousand light years away, knowing that a light year is how far light travels in a year, knowing that my favorite star was at least eight thousand years old - and most likely far, far older - only made this doubt of god's creation grow. Especially in a world where creationists and fundamentalists, a great part of the United States population (40%, as late), tend to believe the world is six thousand years old.

If my favorite star were eight thousand light years away, and the oldest known sources of light were over thirteen billion light years away, what was the rationale for believing that the world [was] six thousand years old?

NOTE. In doing a bit or research, I'm suspecting that Michaels' favorite star is Eta Caninae, about to blow its stack in the photo above.

See also my previous post on Organ Cave, WV, where science and creationism also collide in documented measurements of natural phenomena.

Cats in Art: Portrait of the Cat Armellino With a Sonnet by Bertazzi (Reder)

2011-12-18T06:07:00.001-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Click image for larger. Image credit Pinterest.com, here (could not locate any museum or art repro images), Portrait of the Cat Armellino With a Sonnet by Bertazzi , Giovanni Reder, 1750, oil on canvas, 30" x 24", held by Museo di Roma, Rome, Italy.

Zuffi tells us:

Very few cats can boast that they have actually had their portraits painted, that is, that they have been depicted without any allegorical, moralizing, religious, esoteric, or simply decorative intent on the part of the artist....Armellino, wearing an elegant little collar, has literally posed on a luxurious cushion; a sonnet by the abbot Bertazzi has even been dedicated to him.

That's it...my next cat will be Armellino.

Moon Art

2011-12-17T06:12:00.001-05:00

Via ScienceBlogs:

Paul Van Hoeydonck is responsible for the only piece of art on the moon, a tiny memorial sculpture called "Fallen Astronaut." The piece is interesting for several reasons. For one, it presents us with a clear understanding of the kinds of technical limitations that moon artists must work under. Limitations, of course, can be instrumental to an artist's practice -- a broke Basquiat painted on window frames and cabinet doors -- but space art's parameters border on the draconian. In the design of the piece, Van Hoeydonck was restricted to materials that were both lightweight and sturdy, as well capable of withstanding extreme temperatures. Since it was to be a memorial to deceased astronauts, it couldn't be identifiably male or female, nor of any ethnic group. The somewhat questionable result: what looks like a metal Lego lying face-down on Mons Hadley.

Like the Moon Museum, Fallen Astronaut was an unofficial venture; the statuette was smuggled aboard the Apollo 15 lunar module by the astronauts themselves -- Scott and Jim Irwin -- without the knowledge of NASA officials. Its "installation" was unorthodox: in laying down the sculpture and its accompanying plaque, Irwin and Scott performed a private ceremony on the lunar surface. "We just thought we'd recognize the guys that made the ultimate contribution," Scott later said. Notable: "the guys" include eight American and six Soviet astronauts, a surprisingly apolitical act of solidarity in the midst of the Cold War.

Maybe I'm sentimental--OK, I am--but there's something really cool about imagining that statue "up" there on the Moon.

I wonder when we'll ever go back?

End of Story

2011-12-16T06:01:00.001-05:00

In an 8 Dec post from the goddess Echidne "More on Newt Gingrich and the Forced Birthers," she recaps a gaffe recently made by candidate Gingrich:

Newt Gingrich has moved quickly to repair any potential fallout from his remarks last Friday to ABC's Jake Tapper in which he said that life begins at the "successful implantation" of a fertilized egg, rather than at conception.

That is heresy to the pro-life movement, and had the potential to complicate Gingrich's rise in the Republican presidential polls, especially in crucial states like Iowa and South Carolina, whose early caucuses and primary are dominated by conservative Christian voters.

"As I have stated many times throughout the course of my public life, I believe that human life begins at conception," Gingrich said in a statement posted Saturday on his campaign's website and sent to Joshua Mercer at CatholicVote.org, a conservative political site that had first called attention to -- and sharply criticized -- Gingrich's statement.

Then Echidne nails the hypocrisy. This is along the lines of what the bride always says: "Why is it that old men in suits are always the ones setting up the rules about abortion?":

Too bad Newt is not a woman. Then he could walk his talk. For instance, if he happened to get a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, he could just let himself die rather than have the fertilized egg removed. But even as a man he could start a giant movement to have all those frozen fertilized eggs in fertility clinics implanted in forced birthers.

Why is this even under discussion? A woman's body is HER body and SHE gets to choose whether or not to be pregnant. End of story.

My Kind of Statue...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-15T06:00:00.001-05:00

[Image credit Wikia.com, from Planet of the Apes]

I would gladly contribute to funding this effort. From Dave Lindorff at The Smirking Chimp:

Wanted: Sculptor who works in bronze to construct life-sized group of statues of President Barack Obama, House Speaker John Boehner, House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid and Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, all to be mounted at the high tide line below a high cliff in Maine's Acadia National Park.

There what's left of American posterity can watch as the seas rise inexorably over the coming years and decades, first lapping at the feet of the statues, then the knees, then the waists, then the chests and finally cover over the heads of these "leaders" in Washington who have cynically and foolishly squandered the last opportunity to take effective action to combat climate change.

Such a sculpture would give the lie to these climate deniers, as rise of the sea level due to warming of the ocean and to the melting of the polar caps and the mountain glaciers gradually swamps and submerges these images. It would also serve as a focal point for shaming those politicians who allowed short-term political and monetary gain to blind them to the need for true leadership and action in combating the gravest threat to humanity and to life on the planet since a comet blasted the earth 65 million years ago and wiped out the dinosaurs.

Have we forgotten what even animals know is the Prime Directive: For. The. Children?

If it enhances their chances for survival, do it; if not, don't.

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? Pretty obvious--no habitable planet, no trails.

Christmas, Death Throes, and Ultrarunning

2011-12-14T06:08:00.002-05:00

Via Watertiger at Dependable Renegade, a rather disturbing Christmas card:

Watertiger's caption, upon which I cannot improve:

Nothing says "Happy Holidays" like some good old-fashioned taxidermed death throes.

These are some twisted people, to take real, live, beautiful critters and permanently freeze them into a shallow representation of life. Why not just enjoy them in the wild, live and let live?

Some of my best trail experiences ever involve seeing critters in the wild. I can honestly say that I never had the desire to kill them and have them stuffed for my home enjoyment.

If Nicolas Cage Were an Ultrarunner

2011-12-13T07:45:00.000-05:00

The bride and I watch a fair number of movies, and probably my least favorite A-list actor is Nicolas Cage. Flipping thru the channels, I just saw him again a couple weeks ago in Windtalkers, the WWII flick about the war in the Pacific and him protecting the Navajo code talkers.

To me, it always seems like he's acting, like I can never suspend my disbelief enough to think "That's a real character." I always think, in this example, "That's Nicolas Cage pretending to be a Marine."

It wasn't much of stretch to imagine him--acting poorly, of course--in an Ultrarunning movie. You wouldn’t be able to believe that he's a real Ultrarunner; you'd know that it was Nicolas Cage only pretending to be an Ultrarunner. Imagine that Nicolas Cage syrupy voice saying lines like these:

"You run up the trail. You puke your guts out. Then you wipe your mouth and keep on running."

"Your manners are terrible [cocks pistol, points it at a rude runners head, at an aid station]. You say "Thank You" to the nice volunteers because it's the right thing to do, because nobody's holding a gun to their heads like I am doing to you, making them stand out here for hours handing you water."

"I stopped wearing shoelaces. Now I just ziptie my shoes on my feet and keep the same shoes on the whole race. If I die during the run it'll be like the ultra equivalent of dying with my boots on."

"Pissing in the woods? Crapping? That's for wussies. Real men can hold their stuff."

[channeling Steve Prefontaine] "A lot of people run a race to see who is fastest. I run to see who has the most guts."

"I don't use Body Glide or any of those products on my junk or anywhere. Lube is for wimps. I want the total experience, pain and all."

"Buckles? You mean those shiny trinkets you get for finishing a 100 miler? I keep my buckles right up here, where it really counts [taps head]."

Martin Luther...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-12T06:04:00.001-05:00

Saved this tidbit from the 10 Nov 2011 edition of The Writer's Almanac. I'm beating the same drum here as I always do, but you gotta subscribe to their daily emails if you have a curious bone in your body.

This date is the birthday of Martin Luther, of theological fame. I think of him as a sober, sincere, reverent man. But evidently he was a hellraiser, who actually wrote about Ultrarunning and post-run refreshment (well, not really, but see BOLD below):

When a friend wrote Luther a letter confessing that he was depressed, Luther had some advice for him: "Be strong and cheerful and cast out these monstrous thoughts. Whenever the devil harasses you thus, seek the company of men or drink more, or joke and talk nonsense, or do some other merry thing. Sometimes we must drink more, sport, recreate ourselves, aye, and even sin a little to spite the devil, so that we leave him no place for troubling our consciences with trifles. We are conquered if we try too conscientiously not to sin at all. So when the devil says to you: 'Do not drink,' answer him: 'I will drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to.' One must always do what Satan forbids.

In Ultrarunning we find in our play, and in play we find our salvation.

Cats in Art: Portrait of Louise Vernet as a Child (Gericault)

2011-12-11T06:13:00.003-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Click image for larger. Image credit Wikipaintings, here. Portrait of Louise Vernet as a Child, Theodore Gericault, 1819, oil on canvas, 50 cm x 60 cm, held by Musee du Louvre, Paris, France.

Zuffi laconically observes:

Following the eighteenth-century fashion for depicting cats held in the arms of their owners, Gericault portrayed Louise, daughter of the well-known painter Horace Vernet, posed with an enormous cat.

Enormous, indeed--the cat looks like a mountain lion. But at least it's placid, for now.

Plan B, a Liberal's Dilemma...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-10T06:07:00.000-05:00

My fine Sunday hat is high in the air for my favorite guilty pleasure, blogger The Rude Pundit, whom all of you should be reading as a matter of daily routine, like brushing your teeth.

In his 8 Dec post, he's thumping President Obama, and rightfully so, starting with the decision to not make Plan B emergency contraception available to women under 17 without a prescription. [see NOTE at the end of my post for more solid thinking on the subject, from Lindsay Beyerstein]

He nails the rationale: politics trumping science. Somewhere in the White House, a staffer thunk these thoughts and they prevailed (bolding is mine):

If you think about it, of course HHS Secretary Kathleen Sebelius overruled the FDA's decision to allow the Plan B emergency contraception to be sold over-the-counter with no age restrictions. Can you imagine the Republican ads in 2012? "President Obama thinks it's okay for 13-year old girls to abort their children without parental consent," they'd lie. "Mitt Romney is pretty sure that's wrong." There's an election in less than a year. And your precious science and "facts" and "rights" have no place here.

The Rude Pundit would bet that some White House insider would say that it was more important to take abortion off the table as an issue in the presidential election, even if Plan B is a contraceptive, not an abortifacient, and, really, the anti-choice yahoos need to make a decision here on whether life begins at conception or at ejaculation. He bets that that insider would tell women of all ages not to worry, that the decision would be changed in a second Obama term, that that's just the way the world works.

The Rude One goes on to opine that the Obama administration is now most analogous to the meanderings of the TV series "The X-Files" in having no apparent direction, premise or end game:

The Obama administration now seems like a television series that has lost its plot thread. The Rude Pundit remembers watching The X-Files back in the day, believing that the mysteries and mythology would have a resolution by the end of its run, that the creators of the show knew the arc and knew the conclusion. So you'd get a great episode involving aliens and conspiracies in the government one week. And then the next week you'd get David Duchovny being beaten up by a talking ape. But you stuck with it, thinking that it would all pay off, that your loyalty would be rewarded.

But in the end, that happy revelation and closure were not to be. It was all indeed a random, ad hoc goat rope.

You finally realized that you were being suckered, that there would be no satisfaction at the end, that the only goal was to make more money for Fox TV by staying on the air....So it is with the presidency of Barack Obama. Any time you attempt to say that you're sick of the cynical way the White House takes the left for granted, you're given a list of things that Obama has accomplished, as if somehow you were denying that he did those things. Yeah, he did accomplish an overhaul of the health care system that has benefited Americans in ways large and small. Yeah, he did get Osama bin Laden and is, at least to an extent, winding down the Iraq war. Yeah, yeah, fine, fine. But this isn't a case of what-have-you-done-for-me-lately.

The Rude Pundit wants to believe that there's an ideology at work, a path, if you will, to what Obama wants to achieve as a president. And, no matter what you say about Republicans in Congress blocking his way, it seems that, often, even when it's purely executive branch matters, there is no ideology at work, either - just political calculations, as with the Plan B decision, or the continuing concentration of power in the executive, as with indefinite detention and drone assassinations.

When he ran the first time, Obama created a narrative about the nation and its possibilities. That narrative has been abandoned for the sake of expediency, out of fear of the right, with barely any nods towards it anymore. He might say that the exigencies of the contemporary political and economic and foreign policy landscapes have forced changes in the storyline, but that the goal is ultimately the same. We just need to keep believing him. And, c'mon, liberals, what choice do you have?

The link to Ultrarunning is that in our sport we have simplicity and consistency. Sure, there sometimes is a whiff of the woo factor, of superstitions and luck, of habit or hunch trumping logic. But in the end, we Ultrarunners are a practical lot. We deal with fact and science, with what has been proven to work, either through our own "experiment of one" or through the collective hive mind that has run literally millions of trail miles and shared the results via blogs like mine, the Ultralist, or the print voice of the sport, UltraRunning Magazine.

I like to think that thinking Ultrarunners are as appalled as I am by the Plan B decision and by the political expediency of the current administration.

[NOTE promised in para 2 above. C'mon: the stated reason to not make it over the counter to under 17s (and to keep it behind the counter for over-17s) is this, from blogger Lindsay Beyerstein:

HHS Secretary Kathleen Sebelius concedes that Plan B has been shown to be safe and effective when used as directed. She claims she is overruling the FDA because the company that asked to sell it over the counter didn't produce evidence that girls under 17 "can understand the label and use the product appropriately."

By that logic all over the counter medication should be banned because people under 17 might buy it.

Plan B is not difficult to use. Plan B One-Step is a single dose in a single tablet.

It is effective for 72 hours after unprotected sex. If it is taken too late, it won't work. That's it.

Besides which, a kid who can't figure out how to take 1 pill in 3 days is really not ready to be a parent.

The FDA lets kids buy Tylenol over the counter, despite the fact that surprisingly small overdoses can kill. The instructions on cold medicine and allergy pills are more complicated than the instructions on Plan B. The FDA trusts young women to treat their own yeast infections with OTC fungicide, a process that requires much greater reading comprehension, dexterity, and tenacity than taking a single pill.

Mind Tricks...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-09T06:03:00.001-05:00

Over at Boing Boing (always a good, geeky read!), I was fascinated by an article called Mind Tricks to Try and Use.

I've used this one for some time, and it does indeed work:

When I walk through large crowds of people, to avoid walking into anyone, I simply stare at my destination. I look no one in the eyes. People actually will watch your eyes and they avoid the direction you are going. If I look into people's eyes as we are walking into each other, we are sure to collide. You have to let people know where you intend to go with your eyes. It always works for me, try it!

How many times do you make eye contact, then you and the other approaching person juke back and forth and nearly collide anyway? Just act distracted and don't make eye contact. Problem solved.

The link to Ultrarunning is that this really doesn't apply much. First, not all races have sections in which you face opposing runners. In training runs, the number of people encounters is pretty small anyway. I just usually make it a habit--as is the normal rule on multi-use trails--to keep right except to pass.

Never had so much as a close call to hitting another runner on a trail.

It's A Wonderful Life...and Ultrarunning

2011-12-08T06:06:00.001-05:00

Image credit Wikipedia.

This brilliant Frank Capra movie, which my grown kids hate, was not always on my fav list either. But over the years, as I've seen more stuff, experienced more things, and grown (I think) more wise, this 1946 film keeps calling me as being even more relevant than ever.

I ran across an article about the fate of Zuzu, Jimmy Stewart's and Donna Reed's youngest child in the movie, at the Washington Post. The piece is entitled "For Zuzu of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’ it wasn’t such a wonderful life afterward."

Karolyn Grimes played Zuzu, and never saw the movie until some 33 years later as an adult. She certainly had seen hard times in her life, and commented:

Oh, it was fresh and dark, about as relevant today as it was when it was made,” said Grimes, quieting a moment. “Think of all the people out of work, losing their homes, hungry kids worried about their parents. What’s so different about today and 60 years ago?

Indeed. But watch it this holiday season, by all means.

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? Had George Bailey (played by Jimmy Stewart) been a trail runner, I think he would have been able to cope better with life's adversities, even those crushing problems that caused him to come within a whisker of suicide in the film.

At least that's been my experience.

My family is no different than most; like many others, we've experienced great joy but also have seen some serious stuff. I will say here that were it not for my Ultrarunning, I am certain that I would have imploded (equal credit is due to loved ones, a cat, a support group, and my noontime running buddies).

7 Dec, 1941

2011-12-07T06:00:00.004-05:00

70 years ago today....

This memorial is a quiet, solemn place. The oil still bubbles to the surface from the USS Arizona, a fitting place to reflect upon the futility of war.

[photos by Gary]

More Pacifism....

2011-12-06T06:03:00.001-05:00

Via The Smirking Chimp, author David Swanson decries the current Defense Appropriation Bill under consideration as being all-war, all the time. Can't say that I disagree.

It's a bill to dump over $650 billion into wars and aggressive weaponry, continue the slaughter in Afghanistan, ramp up the creation and use of drones, and expand U.S. military bases around the globe.

Swanson then goes on to talk passionately about an alternative.

In the absence of an overall conversion-to-sanity-and-sustainability bill, there is a related bill that has been introduced in the current Congress: "The Nuclear Weapons Abolition and Economic and Energy Conversion Act of 2011" introduced by Eleanor Holmes Norton.

Here's the full text. Simple and elegant, and exactly the type of action that in a sane world we need to do for our descendants. Unfortunately, it is extremely doubtful that this will even generate much debate, much less passage.

"(a) In General- The United States Government shall--
(1) by the date that is three years after the date of the enactment of this Act, provide leadership to negotiate a multilateral treaty or other international agreement that provides for--
(A) the dismantlement and elimination of all nuclear weapons in every country by not later than 2020; and
(B) strict and effective international control of such dismantlement and elimination;
(2) redirect resources that are being used for nuclear weapons programs to use--
(A) in converting all nuclear weapons industry employees, processes, plants, and programs smoothly to constructive, ecologically beneficial peacetime activities, including strict control of all fissile material and radioactive waste, during the period in which nuclear weapons must be dismantled and eliminated pursuant to the treaty or other international agreement described in paragraph (1); and
(B) in addressing human and infrastructure needs, including development and deployment of sustainable carbon-free and nuclear-free energy sources, health care, housing, education, agriculture, and environmental restoration, including long-term radioactive waste monitoring;
(3) undertake vigorous, good-faith efforts to eliminate war, armed conflict, and all military operations; and
(4) actively promote policies to induce all other countries to join in the commitments described in this subsection to create a more peaceful and secure world.
(b) Effective Date- Subsection (a)(2) shall take effect on the date on which the President certifies to Congress that all countries possessing nuclear weapons have--
(1) eliminated such weapons; or
(2) begun such elimination under established legal requirements comparable to those described in subsection (a)."

A Despicable Human Being

2011-12-05T05:51:00.001-05:00

This "man" is a despicable human being. From Crooks and Liars on the day before Thanksgiving, 2011:

Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney on Monday suggested using drastic cuts to health care for the poorest Americans to fund the Department of Defense.

Speaking to employees of BAE Systems, one of the nation's largest defense contractors, the candidate said that President Barack Obama and members of the "super committee" should agree to scale back the Medicaid program in order to prevent $600 billion in cuts to defense spending over ten years.

"A doomsday scenario for our military is not the right course, given where the world is headed," Romney remarked. "I would call on the president -- and do call on the president -- to immediately introduce legislation which says we will not have a $600 billion cut to America's military. We should not cut any funding from our base Department of Defense budget. That should not occur."

"And I would apply the $600 billion [in cuts] that were anticipated being imposed upon the military, I would take those and apply them to other parts of the federal budget," he continued. "And there are a number of candidates for that. One of them, of course, would be to take something like Medicaid, which is our health care program for the poor, and return that program to the states."

In a world where on defense we outspend the rest of the planet's nations put together, he has the nerve to say that poorer folk must suffer so as to leave the DOD budget untouched?

Cats in Art: Espirit de Baculard d'Armand (Greuze)

2011-12-04T05:50:00.001-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Image credit The Scholar's Resource, here. Espirit de Baculard d'Armand (or in English, The Son of Francois Thomas de Baculard d'Armand), Jean-Baptiste Greuze, 1776, oil on oval canvas, held by Musee des Beaux-Arts, Troyes, France.

Zuffi observes, on the art of this period:

The cat faced up to this age of revolution and change with its customary nonchalance and proverbial adaptability.

In other words, tell me when it's over, but in the meantime, keep on petting me or I'll get even more annoyed than I am now....

More Exit 29, Ultrarunning, and Wilderness

2011-12-03T06:10:00.001-05:00

Here’s another Milepost 29 post on the heels of yesterday’s post. As I drove up Interstate 81 as part of my daily 60-mile commute (today was my day to drive the carpool) I reflected that every single drop of gasoline that we use is based upon extraction technology and is a truly finite resource. Now this is not a new fact, but today for some reason, I truly examined that fact and it really sank in for the first time.

Once we extract that last drop, it’s gone. There’s no more.

That fact alone should make all of us and especially our leaders shudder. Truth is, it’s kinda stupid to continue to base our entire infrastructure and economy on fossil fuels with no Plan B, but that indeed is what we are doing. One would think that our leaders would be calling for a full-court press, like the concerted heroic effort that placed a man on the moon in the 1960s. But one would be wrong.

I can’t solve the energy problem, but the finiteness of extractable fossil fuels contrasts starkly with the non-consumability (within reason) of wilderness.

Wilderness (and I use the word loosely here to mean any backcountry in which we run), unlike fossil fuels, is non-consumable in the sense that whether 1 person or 1000 people view a waterfall, the waterfall is not diminished. Within reason, given the constraints of physics and geology--erosion, soil type, etc.--most trails can tolerate few or many folks walking/running there. In other words, wilderness persists without diminution.

Wilderness is relative in the degree to which it contrasts to everyday life. The beauty of ultrarunning is that it CAN be part of everyday life, thus inextricably tying us to wilderness.

Let’s let Aldo Leopold have the last word on wilderness:

Ability to see the cultural value of wilderness boils down, in the last analysis, to a question of intellectual humility. The shallow-minded modern who has lost his rootage in the land assumes that he has already discovered what is important; it is such who prate of empires, political or economic, that will last a thousand years. It is only the scholar who appreciates that all history consists of successive excursions from a single starting point, to which man returns again and again to organize yet another search for a durable scale of values. It is only the scholar who understands why the raw wilderness gives definition and meaning to the human enterprise.

Milepost 29…and Ultrarunning

2011-12-02T10:20:00.000-05:00

A couple of years ago, before Mister Tristan (the blog, not the 3-year old human being), I fell asleep while driving along Interstate 81 in southern PA. Near Milepost 29, I ran off the southbound lanes onto the right shoulder, obliquely hitting and grinding to a stop along the guard rail. My car was totaled, but there were no injuries to me nor any effect on anyone else, so it was a benign outcome to what could have been a tragic circumstance.

A couple of weeks ago I saw in the local paper that another vehicle had run off I-81 at Milepost 29. In viewing the site, I saw where the two impact points were less than 100' apart.

Unfortunately, in the latter accident, the angle of impact was much more acute (i.e., more perpendicular to the guard rail), so the vehicle plowed through and/or over the guard rail where a few feet down the embankment it was abruptly stopped cold by impacting a tree. Of the three occupants, one died right there; another barely clings to life today; and the third sustained non-life threatening injuries and will survive.

I’m not claiming any special recognition here; any one of us could cite a parallel example from their personal experience where tragedy was narrowly averted by the luck of the draw. The law of averages can both smile and frown upon us, rather randomly.

The point is simply acknowledging another demonstration of the fragility of life.

Literally, any moment, any breath, any heartbeat could be our last (and, like it or not, that will be our fate, sooner or later). All of us have likely seen the inspirational slogan that life is not measured by how many breaths we take, but by how many moments take our breath away.

Ultrarunning neatly fits that bill, replenishing our psyches via time spent alone--or with like-minded souls--in nature. We recharge when we are being what the late Dr. George Sheehan referred to as “a good animal,” using our bodies efficiently and purposefully in the pursuit of physical and mental perfection out on our beloved trails.

Being a good animal--fit, alert, aware--opens the doors for the mental enlightenment that can only come through physical challenge. The heart revs up the mind, and in so doing we come closer to perfection than the sedentary will ever know.

Christmas Trees, Cats, and Ultrarunning

2011-12-01T05:57:00.001-05:00

[photo by Gary]

We put up our Christmas tree this weekend--we always do that the Saturday immediately after Thanksgiving.

We have a regular ritual. We go the the tree farm in October to pick and tag a tree, then return Thanksgiving Saturday to cut it and bring it home. I put the lights and garlands around it, then push it back into the corner of the great room where we attack it with ornaments.

Mister Tristan--the 3-year old human, not the blog--really got into it this year. Of course, when I got the stepstool to reach to the the top of the 9' tree, also climbing the stepstool became a high priority for him.

Oh, and laying under the tree becomes a priority for the cats. This particular feline is called Amanda--Mana for short--and has staked out the under-tree region as hers. That is, until she goes outside, in which case the area is up for grabs.

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning? This tree is a Douglas Fir. Here in the East, people know it only from Christmas trees, where it is very popular because it retains its needles very well even when cut and indoors.

I can't ever forget my first time on a trail out west seeing mature, old-growth Douglas Firs in their native habitat. I mean, these trees were real giants--6' or more thick and 150' tall--like smaller versions of a redwood. I was in utter awe of their majesty, and couldn't help but be compelled to use my library voice when I spoke.

Fenton!!!!

2011-11-30T06:02:00.002-05:00

Via Dependable Renegade--always a good read--I got steered to the following YouTube video.

I seldom click on videos. Not that they won't be funny or amusing or enlightening. Nope, it's precisely BECAUSE they will be funny or amusing or enlightening. And once I start, where will I stop? There are millions of these things out there, and not enough time.

That said, I broke my rule for this one and I'm glad I did. Possibly because one of my running buddies is named Fenton. He apparently has shape-shifted and is now a dog. A BAD dog. In London.

I give you permission to also break my rule. Enjoy!

Remembrances…and Ultrarunning

2011-11-29T08:41:00.000-05:00

November is a time for remembrances.

On a global scale on 11 Nov we had Armistice Day (renamed Veteran’s Day, but the original name is better). The “holiday” (if that’s the right word) commemorates the dead of WWI, the so-called war to end all wars. That hasn’t worked out all that well.

On the national scale, 19 Nov was the anniversary of President Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. He was speaking at the dedication of the new National Cemetery at Gettysburg, where Union dead from the battle some 4 months prior were being reinterred from their temporary graves scattered over the battlefield. The short speech has become iconic for its succinct and eloquent capture of the spirit of remembrance of the sacrifices of the Union dead.

On the local scale, this morning on my early run on my beloved Harshman Road loop, I paused again at Janet Christiansen’s grave in Browns Mill Cemetery. Janet was murdered back in 2005, and her exhumation last year to obtain forensic evidence really touched me (see previous post here).

I probably won’t ever get there, but the link to Ultrarunning is a somewhat famous memorial plaque in CA dedicated to Barbara Schoener. She was a trail runner killed by a mountain lion in 1994 in northern California along the American River Canyon Trail, in the Auburn State Recreation Area. This trail is part of the Western States Endurance 100-Mile Endurance Run trail.

If I Have Enough Years...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-28T06:25:00.001-05:00

My local paper, the Chambersburg Public Opinion, has a weekly outdoors feature in which they highlight some local outdoor activity or trail.

I just read a feature about the Loyalsock Trail in northeastern PA, web site here (and also the image credit), and it sounds absolutely gorgeous--waterfalls, scenic vistas, great geology. Doesn't seem that they have maps on the site, but it sounds like it's a point-to-point trail some 60 miles in length. Without ordering the trail guide, it's unclear whether there might be a shorter alternatives, but it certainly sounds intriguing.

The problem is that in life there are only so many summers, and so many springs (I think that's a line from an Eagles tune).

Oh, and the same is true about Ultrarunning as well.

Cats in Art: Miss Ann White's Kitten (Stubbs)

2011-11-27T11:03:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Click image for larger. Image credit Artfinder.com, here. Miss Ann White's Kitten, George Stubbs, 1790, oil on canvas, 10" x 12", held by Roy Miles Fine Paintings, London.

Zuffi tells us:

Stubbs is one of the great animal painters of all time, and was highly popular in Britain for his ability to capture with great sensitivity not only the exterior "portrayal" of an animal but also its feelings, its instincts, its internal nobility.

This adorable kitten also makes me wonder, who was Miss Ann White, and what was her relationship to the painter...and to her kitten?

Also, I find quite remarkable the tiny size of the painting: a mere 10" by 12". Now that's pretty darn small, yet we see all this wonderful, careful detail of a beautiful little kitty.

Climate Change Denial "Progression"

2011-11-26T06:06:00.001-05:00

Eric Martin gives us "...a clearer enunciation of the stages of evolution for climate change denialists," that goes something like this:

Stage 1.Climate change isn't real, temperatures aren't actually increasing, El Nino!, etc.

Stage 2. OK, the data can't be denied any longer, temperatures are in fact increasing, but it's not because of the activities of man or increased greenhouse gas emissions.

Stage 3. OK, OK, temperatures are increasing, and it is the result of man-made causes, but doing something to arrest the progress of climate change would simply be too expensive.

My prediction: When the likely catastrophic costs of inaction are fully revealed, we'll see some variation of the following:

Stage 4. We would have agreed to address global warming earlier, but the liberals and scientists were so smug, condescending, etc., and they failed to reach out and create an environment conducive to bipartisan cooperation.

What I can't get my head around is that the stakes here are epic and final--what sane person would want to take the chance that we're well on the way towards passing the so-called tipping point, beyond which we cannot recover? What sane person would do that to their children and grandchildren?

I guess it depends upon your definition of "sane." Apparently its saner to take the short term view and not be inconvenienced now; after all, some technological wizardry will come along to bail the progeny out of this fix we've put them into. Right?

"These Fragments Are Not Where They Were Born To Be."

2011-11-25T06:04:00.000-05:00

Here's an excerpt from the Esquire article, by Chris Jones. Now go read the whole thing.

Those are the remains that ended up in landfills. They ended up in landfills because back in 2003, the gore-numb folks at Dover must have stood in their mortuary, with so many bodies all around them, and made a callous, officious decision. When they did their DNA tests on every finger and ear and eyelid spread out on the metal tables before them, and when their computers told them that this finger or ear or eyelid once belonged to a man or woman already sent home and whose family didn't want to have someone knock at their door with another little bag of Joey or Matt or Laura in his hands, that those parts needed to be cremated and made to vanish. It was just another part of the process.

Since 2008, those same parts have still been cremated, but they've been buried at sea rather than at a landfill. This is better. It is better, if only symbolically, if only to relieve one of the thousands of burdens borne by the bereaved.

But it doesn't really change the very terrible facts. Whether they're in a landfill or at the bottom of the ocean, these fragments are not where they were born to be. The ocean is just a prettier idea. It might be a deeper place to bury our horrors, but that doesn't make them any less real. All of this has happened. No one can go to Dover and feel as though everything is right in the world. No one can go into that building and come out feeling whole

"These fragments are not where they were born to be.'

Ya think?

Millionaires...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-24T05:42:00.000-05:00

Via Rising Hegemon, who got it from Chris Piascik at Daily Kos.

Most people in Congress are very, very wealthy. It's the natural by-product of a campaign system engineered by and for the benefit of the richest Americans. Campaigning after all is a 24/7 job, and few members of the 99% can afford to balance the time constraints of fundraising and campaigning without quitting their normal income-producing job. It's why running for Congress is a rich person's game. It's why we end up with charts like the one above.

We will never get empathy from Congress (beyond a few sentient members) because they just don't get our plight. They are too comfortable, too far removed from paycheck-to-paycheck living, having secure incomes and health care, never treading the edge of being only a single misfortune away from financial ruin. It's bad, and getting worse.

And the link to Ultrarunning? Sounds sappy, but since I'll never be a millionaire, I'll have to be satisfied with the treasures of the trail.

Once, long ago, I read something to the effect that when you die, your last thoughts are of beaches and sunsets, not the first time you bought stock or opened a checking account.

So we Ultrarunners will have a lot of memories to choose from, should we have the luxury of being conscious at the time of thinking our last thoughts....

"If You've Done Nothing Wrong...."

2011-11-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

The Earth-Bound Misfit gets it right again, here, writing about automatic license plate readers in the DC and other areas, saying:

It is this variant of this line: "If you've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear."
Every time the cops trot out that line, you can figure they're creeping closer and closer to a 1984-level security state.

Then in comments we see this:

The casual attitude of the police toward the privacy of the rest of us, the casual embrace of the notion that the limitations on what they can know about us and our movements are only those of the available technology, are truly chilling.

Said license plate readers are generating a huge database of information, with little or no guidelines on usage, strorage, etc. It make me nervous...and I have nothing to hide.

JFK 50 Miler, Revisited

2011-11-22T08:21:00.000-05:00

I may have been a bit uncomplimentary about the JFK 50 Mile race in my post last week, in which, in case you missed it, I offered photographic proof of what unquestionably is the WORST race T-shirt ever.

Although I chose not to run this year, as a 5-time finisher, my heart was with the runners all day. At 7:00 AM I imagined myself at the start, in that pulsing mass of 1,000 runners, all having come to that street in Boonsboro, MD, from countless towns all over America, and even from abroad. All would have trained for this day, and like lemmings obeying an invisible call, all somehow made it to that starting line on that day.

The first 3 miles are on US Alternate Rt 40, a storied highway from America’s early days. That 3rd mile + is uphill as you gain the top of the Blue Ridge. Many people run this hill out of an abundance of energy; I was always more than happy to walk it. There’d be plenty of time to run later if I still had the legs.

Then you reach the Appalachian Trail. Although you can pass other runners along this stretch, the trail generally tends to be narrow, and I always found it best to bide my time, passing only if I absolutely had to. Again, my watchword was to be conservative--there’d be plenty of time to run later if I still had the legs.

You reach the flat Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) canal at mile 16 or so, and face 26 miles of flat towpath running. Many people say, “The Canal is SOOOOOOO boring…it’s all flat…nothing to break it up…blah blah blah.” For me, the Canal is the best part. C’mon, you’re running in the woods, beside a major scenic river, mere feet away from what has to be one of the most historic and fascinating engineering feats ever constructed in the US.

Just seeing the historic artifacts of the canal—the lift locks, the lockkeepers’ homes, the aqueducts and culverts where the canal bridged tributaries of the Potomac, the cuts in stone where the laborers carved a flat space into cliffs along the river to fit the canal and towpath, the stonemasons’ carefully cut stones to construct the locks, the dams to keep the canal watered…

I guess I’m an engineering geek at heart, because this section is so fascinating. For those of you who find the towpath boring, you should read up a bit before your next running and you’ll have a greater appreciation for what you’re seeing. Try this, and this, for example.

Along the Canal, there are markers every mile. I tried to maintain a pattern of walking for 5 minutes at every second mile marker. Thus of every 2 miles I’d walk about a quarter mile.

At length you reach the final 8 miles of road. You’ve reached the point mentioned earlier where “there is plenty of time to run later if you still had the legs.” Here is where I always tried to push, to actually race the race, depending upon what I still had left in the tank. Again, the rural roads, the carefully built stones walls on either side enclosing the fields--beautiful!

Then the finish line, after covering 50 miles, something that most people cannot fathom. But you know what you did.

Miss Mom

2011-11-21T04:49:00.000-05:00

Yesterday would have been Mom's 86th birthday, but she only made it to 82.

I miss her at odd times, like over the weekend when I stopped at the local German deli to get some Christmas stuff, and remembered taking her there for what would be her last Christmas. I got all choked up just being there and could hardly focus.

Anyway, she always asked about my Ultrarunning--although secretly I'm sure she thought I was nuts, she never questioned it out loud.

Cats in Art: The Painter's Studio (del Castillo)

2011-11-20T12:02:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Click image for larger. Image credit Artunframed, here. The Painter's Studio, Joes del Castillo, 1780, oil on canvas, 41" x 63", held by Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain.

Zuffi narrates:

Disproportionately large compared to the boy, who extends his arms to make a hoop through which it is to leap, the presumed acrobat-cat is the painting's true protagonist. Probably the cat will never accomplish the small test of agility which the boy is inviting it to pass; or, if it does, it will be with a feeling of superior, regal condescension.

"Superior, regal condescension"...Zuffi hits it out of the park. Say no more, it'd just be superfluous.

Draft the Boys at Sixty-Five

2011-11-19T06:01:00.001-05:00

Clarence Jordan was a practical theologian who founded a Christian community in Georgia that he named Koinonia. The bride and I spent several days there when we were in college, it it had a marked effect on our lives.

One of Jordan's essays was called "Draft the Boys at Sixty-Five." The only place where I was able to grab a copy was at this site, where, unfortunately, you will be subjected to some annoying ragtime music.

But hit PAGE DOWN about 9 or 10 times, mute your sound, and read. It's tongue-in-cheek...or is it? I am reproducing the essay (written around the time of the Vietnam War) here in its entirety, with some of the quotes that I particularly liked bolded and in blue. Substitute the word "terrorist" for "Communist" and it's totally contemporary.

There's a lot of talk going on today about how we don't need peacetime conscription in a nation like this. But we might as well just face up to the fact that we've got to have the draft. In the first place, we've gotten too civilized to go to war voluntarily. We've just got to be made to fight. And then, automation has taken all the sport out of killing. Time was when an honest man could go to battle against an honest man, and there was a lot of sport in that; there was a lot of fun, a lot of challenge. You don't have to be drafted for that kind of sport. But who wants to operate a computer to kill scads of women and children? We're just not going to war and do that kind of thing unless we're drafted.

Look at it this way—a very peace-loving nation like ours has the responsibility to keep the peace, all over the world, even if we have to do it by ourselves. And even if we have to kill off everybody else in the world to keep the peace in the world. We got to do it. It's our responsibility. Peace is that important—we've got to have it. The trouble is, some people think you can have it without plenty of guns and planes and napalm and bombs and men. Well, you can't. You've got to have these things. And when too many folks get to arguing about this, the only thing you can do with folks who are arguing is just draft them.

Without the draft, there'd be entirely too much talk about peace and too little real fighting for peace. So until people quit thinking and talking, we're gonna have to have the draft, that's it. Now, I admit we might have to occasionally make a few changes in the draft law. For instance, at the present, we're drafting kids from eighteen to twenty-six. We shouldn't be drafting those kids. They're too young; they're too flighty; they're too sexy; they're too immature. They're not even represented in Congress. They don't have any say-so about this decision. Besides, those kids need to stay at home and get married and get into their vocation and start raising a family and all those kinds of things. Then too when you send these kids off, you got to have such a long veterans' program. They come back veterans eighteen, nineteen years old, you know. You gotta keep 'em on the rolls for another forty to sixty years.

Now, it could be that we could draft middle-aged folks, but, you know, they're too productive. We got to have them to make the bombs and the planes and the napalm, without which there can be no peace. We need them to run our big banks and our big corporations, to keep the economy booming. We gotta keep ‘em in Congress, to pass draft laws and tax laws and laws against draft-card burning and all like that. We got to keep these middle-aged folks at home, to make committees in Congress, to investigate people who ain't peace loving. And then we got to keep ‘em at home to teach their sons the glory and the beauty of killing off men, women, and children that they've never seen before. We can't have peace in the world without our middle-aged folks staying at home.

Well, that only leaves our senior citizens, but they're too—well, now wait a minute, what about our senior citizens? Yea, what about our senior citizens? How about starting the draft at sixty-five? Looky here, at that age they're getting ready to retire and they could go at their own expense. We wouldn't have to pay ‘em—they're on Social Security, and old-age security, and all like that. They're on their pensions….
And then another thing, and I noticed this, that the older a man gets, the more belligerent he gets. You listen to these guys talk in Congress. There isn't anybody who's more anxious to give the Communists hell than a man who's too old to deliver it. Now anybody that's as anxious to deliver some loads to the nether regions as our senior citizens ought not to be denied the privilege of delivering them in person. They wouldn't even have to be drafted to do it. If given the opportunity, they'd volunteer in droves.

And too, by the time a man reaches sixty-five and had to be drafted, he usually wouldn't leave at home a sweetheart or somebody like that weeping for him. This would definitely cut down on hasty marriages. And when he was given his two-week leave before being shipped abroad, his wife probably wouldn't get pregnant, and that would cut down on the war boom of babies and help the population explosion.

But I think his wife ought to be drafted too. We ought to draft them all—men and women that are sixty-five years old—so she could go along with him to do his cooking and cleaning and see that he comes home at night like a good soldier should. With their wives along, these elderly GI's would not be liable to turn these foreign cities into brothels and burden its citizenry with illegitimacy.

It's also obvious from the traffic on our toll roads that senior citizens love to travel. You get on Interstate 75, and you see one camper trailer after another going up and down, going to Florida. Most of our senior citizens, by the time they're sixty-five, have seen practically every tourist place in the United States. Let's give 'em a chance to see the rest of the world. All we'd have to do with this new army would be to equip 'em with a camper trailer and let 'em get on the road. Now you would have to have in these foreign countries adequate tourist places with adequate rest stops and so forth. This might be a real nasty problem in backward countries with outdoor privies. But we might be able to even get around that. This army would be highly mobile with their camper trailers. Perhaps they could be even more mobile than in helicopters, and we could do away with the expensive helicopters.

Now I think the uniforms for this new army should be usual tourist shorts—both the men and the women should be equipped with the usual shorts that these senior citizens wear when they are touring the country. Now the reason I prescribe shorts is that if you were to get all of our senior citizens with their knobby knees and their varicose veins descending on a country, the psychological effect on that country would be such that they would capitulate immediately.

This army would have other psychological advantages also. Practically all of the elderly GI's would be grandparents, with the standard ailments and aches and pains. It's doubtful that any enemy, no matter how fierce or determined he might be, could long resist a vast invasion of grandparents talking about their grandchildren and their aches and pains. No tonnage of bombs could produce a greater stampede to the conference table.

Now the morale of this army would just be superb. It would be boundless, because when a man's sixty-five years old he's had forty, fifty years to reflect on the bliss of private enterprise and the gross evil of Communism, and without hesitation, he would be so committed to his superlative ideals that he would gladly and eagerly spill his iron-poor blood. Who would want to fade away in boredom at a retirement center, when he can go down in a burst of glory for his superlative ideals on a foreign shuffleboard court?

Another boost to morale would be that some of the troops would be the directors and chairmen of the boards of huge corporations with war contracts. Given the opportunity to execute the wars that they helped plan, and that have made them rich, their zeal would just be boundless. Well may it be said of these rich men who plan the wars, “His strength is as the strength of ten, because his heart's corrupt.”

But to provide the greatest morale stimulus, the law to draft at sixty-five would have to allow for some exceptions. For instance, the president as commander-in-chief of the Army and Navy, even though he may not yet be sixty-five, should not be denied the privilege of volunteering, donning his shorts, and leading his shorted army in this great expeditionary force. We should give the commander-in-chief the privilege of accompanying this senior army.

In the next place, I think we should make exceptions for the Armed Services Committee, and also for the House Appropriations Committee. If you're going to make laws for appropriations and all like that, certainly you need some field experience. And these men, even though not sixty-five, should be given the privilege of joining the army.

Now, let's consider some more of the economic aspects of the draft at sixty-five. The first big thing I see would be in the cost of recruitment. You wouldn't need but two recruitment centers for these elderly GI's –one in Florida and one on California. And you wouldn't have to have any pre-induction physicals, in view of the fact of universal disability. Now there might be one or two physically fit men, but the number of fit would be so small that you could just go ahead and dispense entirely with the examinations and conscript them all. It could be too that there would be a tremendous savings to Medicare, provided we could have rather high casualties, because most of these guys are just beginning Medicare and if we could arrange to have a casualty rate pretty high, think of the savings it would be to that program.

Another thing is that by drafting only those over sixty-five, we could almost eliminate the enormously expensive Veterans Administration. A maimed man of this age would hardly consider it worth the effort to learn how to use artificial arms and legs. Nor would he likely want to go to college, or to buy a twenty-year house on a forty-year mortgage. Even his meager needs wouldn't last too long, and because the crop of veterans would disappear so rapidly, we could afford to have twice as many of 'em. And by raising the draft age to sixty-five, we could completely bypass the astronomically extravagant training centers and camps. When a man's that old, he's just about as trained as he's gonna get. The government not only would be spared the considerable expense of training him, but would profit immensely from his long years of experience. Overnight, we would have, not a band of immature amateurs, but an army of decrepit professionals.

Besides the savings in money, though, there would be the greater savings in manpower. For instance, when you kill a man off at eighteen, nineteen, twenty years old, you're killing off a guy that's got twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years of productive life left in him. Now these folks that make automobiles up here in Detroit, they wouldn't catch an automobile right off the assembly line and junk it. They would expect to get some mileage out of it. You wouldn't take a kid right out of college and junk him on the battlefield. You want to get some mileage out of him.

Now, another thing is that when you kill off a boy that's maybe eighteen, nineteen years old, you don't know but that maybe you're killing a future Einstein, or a future Abraham Lincoln, or a future George Washington. You don't know, you might be killing some great genius of some kind. But when you kill off a guy sixty-five years old, you know what you're killing.

There's one final thing that might be said. This army would really have no equal in the art of pacification. Its ranks would be filled up with retired bankers and insurance company executives. They could completely rebuild the crude economic structure of a foreign country. The elderly newspaper and radio editors and managers could supply a whole lot of American intellectual trash for the foreign people. The enlisted personnel who in private life were captains of American industry could have a whole foreign country on cigarettes and wheels in no time at all. And these are the foundation of any civilization. The conscripted politicians could teach the foreign hopefuls all the ins and outs of, well, you know, under-the-table deals and how to conduct a successful candidacy and all like that. In a matter of weeks, after storming the beaches, all these mighty architects of the American dream, these wrinkled but wise GI's, would transform alien lands into prosperous territories begging for statehood. With prospects of such affluent bliss, most countries would actually invite us to invade them. And we've never needed any pretext other than an invitation from a corrupt regime.

But if this calls for more senior citizens than we could supply, it might be necessary to have a war waiting list. Some countries that are fairly well off might just have to be told plainly that we wouldn't invade 'em under any circumstances. So the only thing then that stands between us and world peace and plenty is one little minor change in the draft law.

Clarence Jordan (1912-1969) founded Koinonia, an interracial farming cooperative in Americus, Georgia, in 1942. A Bible scholar, he is the author The Cottonpatch Gospel, a translation of the New Testament from Greek into colloquial southern English.

Banning War

2011-11-18T05:48:00.000-05:00

Image credit American Battle Monuments Commission, Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery and Memorial, France...where our dead from WWI rest, content in the success of their mission in "the war to end all wars"....

Via Corrente, I was fascinated to read about a 1929 law--a treaty, actually, that has the full force of law and remains in effect today:

A Forgotten Law We Need

In January 1929 the U.S. Senate ratified by a vote of 85 to 1 a treaty that is still on the books, still upheld by most of the world, still listed on the U.S. State Department's website - a treaty that under Article VI of the U.S. Constitution is the "supreme law of the land."

This treaty, the Kellogg-Briand Pact, bans all war. Bad wars and "good wars," aggressive wars and "humanitarian wars" - they are all illegal, having been legally abolished like dueling, blood feuds, and slavery before them.

David Swanson has written a book about this effort, and you can read more about it here.

Before you dismiss out of hand this notion of "let's just not do war anymore," think about it. Think seriously about it. Then think about your children, your grandchildren, all of your loved ones...then think some more.

I'd argue the point that all of our wars reflect the fact that somebody f**ked up. Remember what Atrios said, quoted here:

But what I've learned over the increasingly many years of my life is that the existence of just about any war in which the US is involved means that the Very Serious People, with all the power they have, fucked up completely. Even if that war is, in some sense, "necessary," it still means that the people who run this place screwed up and at the very least should resign in shame before sending people off to kill and be killed. But they don't. They go on Meet the Press to talk about how awesome they are.

Tomorrow's post: Clarence Jordan's not-so-tongue-in-cheek essay about why it would make a lot of sense to draft 65-year-olds rather than young people.

Cheerleading...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-17T05:59:00.000-05:00

Hey, this is only 2 weeks late, but it seems that 2 Nov is the anniversary of several noteworthy events of a geeky nature (i.e., right up my alley). From the Writer's Almanac:

On this date in 1920, the first modern commercially licensed radio station--KDKA in Pittsburgh--began broadcasting.

It's also the anniversary of the maiden--and only--flight of the Spruce Goose, made on this date in 1947. It's technically known as the H-4 Hercules, and it was made of birch, not spruce. Dreamed up by shipping magnate Henry Kaiser, and designed by Howard Hughes, it remains the largest airplane ever built, by far: It's five stories tall, it boasts a wingspan of 320 feet, its cargo area is large enough to hold two railroad boxcars, and it has eight engines with 17-foot propellers. It was made of wood because metal was at a premium during the war.

And last but not least:

It's the birthday of cheerleading, which made its debut at the University of Minnesota on this date in 1898. Pep clubs had been around for a couple of decades, especially at Princeton, where their all-male pep club led the crowd in unified chanting to motivate the football team.

Cheerleading was a male-only sport until 1923, when the first female cheerleaders took the field. This phenomenon didn't really take off until the 1940s, when the male student body was depleted by World War II. The '20s also saw the advent of acrobatics, human pyramids, and dance moves to accompany the fight songs and chants.

Now that's what is lacking in Ultrarunning--cheerleading! Forget about the pathetic efforts of family, crew, and race volunteers to cheer is on. What we REALLY need is some "unified chanting to motivate" the runners.

Squads of cheerleaders could position themselves deep in the forest, far from any access point, to maximize the impact of their motivational chants. Depending on the terrain, "acrobatics, human pyramids, and dance moves" should also be employed to whip up the tired runners.

The UGLIEST Race Shirt Ever...or Good Luck, JFK Runners!

2011-11-16T06:13:00.000-05:00

Photo by Gary

This JFK 50 Miler shirt would have been from 2006, I think. I wore it exactly one time, just to model it for my running buddies, to gain their consensus that, yes, this was the ugliest race T-shirt that any of us had ever seen.

Unanimous.

The fact that I still have it is that my car waxing and oil change efforts have slowed a bit, so this particular rag hasn't made it to the the top of the rag pile yet.

The 2009 shirt, my last and final running, was a nice short-sleeved technical shirt.

Why never to run JFK again? Well, it has to do with the race being very popular and fills quickly. Race management had to somehow limit entries or otherwise make them more manageable.

Historically JFK did have a grandfather clause that anyone with 5 finishes would be offered entry if they wanted it. But when I went to sign up for 2010...I saw where the 5-finishes-grandfathered rule had now been extended to 10 finishes.

Oh, and the entry fee went to $195.

Hey, race management sets up the rules for their race, I'm fine with that. You can choose to enter or not. I'm now in the "or not" camp.

That said, the race is THIS SATURDAY, 19 November, and I will be beaming good karma south to all runners!

Corrente: "Psychopathy As a Preferred Corporate Executive Trait"

2011-11-15T07:11:00.000-05:00

From MontanaMaven at Corrente, an enlightening explanation of the 1% (in fairness, at least some of them).

She cites a British study and observes, " ...it seems to me that if you have psychopathic tendencies and are born to a poor family, you're likely to go to prison. If you have psychopathic tendencies and are born to a rich family, you're likely to go to business school."

In a study published by the journal Psychology, Crime and Law, Belinda Board and Katarina Fritzon tested 39 senior managers and chief executives from leading British businesses. They compared the results to the same tests on patients at Broadmoor special hospital, where people who have been convicted of serious crimes are incarcerated. On certain indicators of psychopathy, the bosses's scores either matched or exceeded those of the patients. In fact, on these criteria, they beat even the subset of patients who had been diagnosed with psychopathic personality disorders.

The psychopathic traits on which the bosses scored so highly, Board and Fritzon point out, closely resemble the characteristics that companies look for. Those who have these traits often possess great skill in flattering and manipulating powerful people. Egocentricity, a strong sense of entitlement, a readiness to exploit others and a lack of empathy and conscience are also unlikely to damage their prospects in many corporations.

MontanaMaven also brings up David Korten, who discusses this point in his book "The Great Turning; from Empire to Earth Community".

Korten identifies sociopaths as People with an "Imperial Consciousness" which is the 2nd of 5 orders of human consciousness. They are people who realize it's easy to cheat their friends i.e. people who trust them. They live in MY WORLD. They suck up to the powerful and exploit the oppressed. The first and lowest order of moral consciousness is called "Magical Consciousness" that believes in an OTHER WORLD of magical beings like Santa Claus and God. It's a child's consciousness. The Imperial is the consciousness of a 7-14 year old. So, yes, it's very disconcerting to meet someone in this order that is an adult.

Indeed.

Cell Phone Tossing...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-14T06:02:00.000-05:00

This from REFDESK, my home page, on 2 Nov 2011, which pointed me to The Free Dictionary, here, and this undervalued sport.

Mobile phone throwing is an international sport that started in Finland in the year 2000. It is a sport in which participants throw mobile phones and are judged on distance or technique. In addition, people sometimes throw cell phones in anger, such as model Naomi Campbell,[1] that gives extra points.

There are usually four categories in the sport:

--Original (also called 'Traditional'): an over-the-shoulder throw with the farthest distance winning (best of 3)

--Freestyle: contestants get points for aesthetics and creative choreographics

--Team original: up to three competitors have one throw each with their scores added together

--Junior: for children aged 12 or younger

Ultrarunning parallels include the GPS toss; the suddenly-unappealing-aid-station-food-you-are-carrying toss; and the fruit rind toss, to include banana skins and orange peels.

And of course, the cookie toss, wherein you regurgitate the entire contents of your stomach, feel better immediately, and continue the race.

Cats in Art: Self-Portrait with His Wife (Baldrighi)

2011-11-13T11:30:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Click image for larger. Image credit Wikimedia Commons, here. Self-Portrait with His Wife, Guiseppe Baldricghi, 1756, oil on canvas, 49" x 63", held by Galleria Nazionale, Parma, Italy.

Zuffi explains:

In this forceful double portrait Baldrighi depicts himself in his work clothes, in the process of posing his wife. The young woman is sitting a little stiffly, with a forced smile. On her left, with a vitality that contrasts with here bearing, the cat has focused on the little birds' cage, and has assumed the typical pose cats adopt before pouncing.

"Vitality"--why, cats own that word! While the humans work, the cat, well, continues to do cat things.

Tebowing (Part 2), and the Brick Testament

2011-11-12T17:56:00.001-05:00

I posted a bit ago about Tebowing, here. Now I have the seond part, which is the Christian's own guide on how to pray, from the Bible itself (Matthew 6: 5-6)...and I daresay it calls for throwing a flag at any Tebowers:

When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

Also I ran across this site, The Brick Testament, and it tickled me a bit. Check it out. Lego figures act out Bible stories literally. Hilarity ensues.

Armistice Day...Every Family Has a Story

2011-11-11T05:50:00.001-05:00

I am reposting the same post I put up one year ago today, on the 93rd anniversary of the end of World War I.
============================

Armistice Day...Every Family Has a Story

For ~~Veteran's~~ Armistice Day (as it was originally called)....

Every family has a story. My mother told me of my great-grandfather, Julius (or Jules?) Brinkmann, who was killed on this date in 1918 in World War I on the Western Front.

Word of the armistice, which took effect the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month of 1918, did not reach all the lines in real time. He was killed sometime later that day, AFTER the armistice.

He would have been one of the very last casualties of the Great War. You know, the war that was supposed to end all wars.

Oh, and he was a German. Funny, that really doesn't seem to matter, does it?

What is your family story? Please comment.

This is a generic photo, not of Julius...but it could have been.

Photo credit here.

Bicycling...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-10T06:00:00.004-05:00

Out of curiosity I happened to pick up a copy of Bicycling magazine, Oct 2011, at the gym, where they have an informal magazine exchange. There were several items that jumped right out at me a illustrating a distinctively different world view on the part of serious bikers, as opposed to the Ultrarunning community that I am familiar with.

Page 6, ad for Nair Men Shower Power "If removing body hair was a competition, razors would finish 2nd." Body hair for Ultrarunners is a feature, not a bug.
Page 52, article on how to crash properly. In fairness, if you're gonna crash, this article gives you tips on how to minimize the damage. But I can't ever recall seeing any how-to equivalent on how to face plant while trail running so as to minimize damage.
Page 89, ad for a Cycling Accident Attorney. Why don't we have a corresponding ad in UltraRunner magazine? After all, backcountry trail running lawsuits are extraordinarily common, aren't they?

But my favorite comes from the Editor's Letter (page 10), where Peter Flax is talking about buying a used Ibis Hakkaluggi bike (doesn't mean anything to me, but I'm not a biker, and it sounds suspiciously like a fake name anyway) from a famous bike racing pro named Bobby Julich.

The editor makes the point that he was "...buying a bike from a guy who podiumed at the Tour" [de France, presumably].

Podiumed?????

An interesting verb-making trick from the word podium, if you ask me. Seems right in line with my stereotype of serious bike aficionados being largely Type A personalities, where inventing a verb out of a noun is simply a breezy construct to communicate even faster, and then rush off to do, well, other important stuff.

I will post more soon about Type A and Type B individuals in various human-powered sports...and it'll be a goodie!

Ultrarunning Article!!!

2011-11-09T06:01:00.001-05:00

(photo credit: Stan Jensen)

I am SO fired up!

Just got my November issue of UltraRunning magazine, and there on page 32, big as you please, was my article on Ultra license plates.

Over a year in the making, I posted a note to the UltraList back in Nov 2010 asking for photos of ultra-related license plates. I got a number of great photos and took a few months to try to craft an article around the themes that emerged. It took a few more months on the UR end to massage my draft and fit it into their publishing scheme.

The overarching theme that came to me was “Commitment and Pride.” This was actually my suggested title for the piece, although the UR managing editor, Tia Bodington, went with “License Plates in the Ultra World.” In scoping out the plates, 4 sub-themes stood out to me:

Acknowledging the sport of ultrarunning
Identifying as an ultrarunner
Espousing the concept and philosophy of ultrarunning
The Secret Message

I’ve had other articles published (a couple pieces of research on Southern infantry units at Gettysburg; the role of a free press in covering war) but this one is special, big time.

Fight, Talk, Build

2011-11-08T06:03:00.001-05:00

Marcy Wheeler got it right last week, as she points out some irony with respect to the U.S. position on Afghanistan:

As the US stumbles around, trying to find its way out of a country it has occupied for over ten years, the path "forward" remains as murky as ever. Just under two weeks ago, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was chosen as the point person for introducing the new US catchphrase "fight, talk, build" that is meant to describe US strategy in the region. As I noted at the time, the US seemed to completely miss the irony of using the country's chief diplomat to introduce a new strategy that is based on the concept of shoot first and ask questions later.

SNIP

That bit at the beginning should not be overlooked: the success of the "fight, talk, build" strategy "depends on a positive outcome for several variables that currently appear headed in the wrong direction." Mechanisms for reversing the current direction of these variables are not presented in the article.

That's OK, we can just hope that things will kinda sorta get better, can't we? Then Marcy in her perceptive way pulls back the veil just a bit more:

While the Obama administration begins to think about preparing to maybe get the Pentagon perhaps to agree to withdraw a few more troops out of Afghanistan, we see the terrain being softened a bit more for the eventual realization that all of the US efforts and investments in "training" Afghan forces are destined for failure. It appears from this article that David Petraeus, who is touted in the press as responsible for training when it is described as being successful, will escape blame for the failure in Afghanistan because William Caldwell is described in the article as having "overseen all NATO training in Afghanistan for the past two years". In true Petraeus fashion, the slate for the previous eight years is not just wiped clean, but ceases to exist. Petraeus' name does not appear in the article.

Prospects for more and more dead and maimed improve as our reputation circles the bowl....

Jag-waters...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-07T06:03:00.005-05:00

Photo credit Mister Tristan (the 3-year old human being, not the blog). Seriously. He loves cameras.

Mister Tristan loves the character Diego from Nick Jr. The photos above depicts a downloadable coloring book page of a baby jaguar.

Only Mister Tristan mispronounces it, saying "Jag-water."

The bride and I once undertook a semi-adventure vacation to Belize in Central America. One of the places where we went was the Cockscomb Basin, a jaguar preserve. Our guide took us out multiple times to different locations over a couple days and nights, without success (the jaguar sighting rate is maybe 5%, so that result was what I expected).

But we did see some fresh jaguar tracks--they are HUGE--and I could well imagine that we were under surveillance.

Anyway, a trip to Belize needs to be in Mister Tristan's future...so he can have a chance to see a Jag-water.

The Cockscomb Basin is full of trails, and although trail running was not part of the last trip, perhaps next time....

Cats in Art: Cats Fighting in a Larder (de Vos)

2011-11-06T05:48:00.000-05:00

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi.

Image credit The Prado's on-line image gallery, here. Paul de Vos, Cats Fighting in a Larder, 1663, oil on canvas, 45" x 67", held by The Prado, Madrid, Spain.

Zuffi calls this painting "Cats in a Larder," omitting the word "fighting," and comments:

De Vos' cats are truly wild! One after the other, they fling themselves from the small window of a pantry and roll around unceremoniously, in poses that seem incompatible with the usual feline dignity and composure.

But every cat needs to get its freak on occasionally.

Why Trees Matter...and Ultrarunning

2011-11-05T06:08:00.000-04:00

From the March-April issue of Sierra, the Sierra Club's magazine, but I forget the particular article of column:

There's something about being near a massive coast redwood, its spire impossibly tall, or a broad sequoia, with its lava flow of soft, knobby bark, that evokes a visceral response. It's less like viewing a tree and more like stumbling on a geologic wonder, an arboreal version of the Grand Canyon or Niagara Falls. People use their library voices while walking among redwoods. Maybe it's being in the presence of something that can outlive 50 human generations--a single tree, standing now in the Sierra Nevada, born during the Bronze Age, and whose grandfather shed its cocoa-colored cones before recorded history.

This is why trees matter. We have a solemn duty to protect and bequeath to successive generations the best of the natural world. As Rachel Carson said, "Conservation is a cause that has no end. There is not point at which we say, 'Our work is finished.'"

Oh, and the link to Ultrarunning is obvious. When you're running among trees, somehow you feel protected and sheltered. Trees never seem sinister or foreboding; they are always benign and welcoming. That's why running on forested courses is so comfortable, like slipping on an old shoe, or running with a dear friend.