Day 38ish: So Much Beauty

June 13

I saw these running one day in June and couldn't help but stop photograph them.  They reminded me of a line from the movie American Beauty,

"That's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things, and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in."

Day 36: Sound To Narrows

June 11, 2016

Disclaimer:  A friend of mine once said that "The only thing worse than watching golf is listening to someone recount their latest round of golf."  If you believe what my friend said about golf to also be true about things such as fantasy football, fishing and running, then you might want to skip the following post. Seriously, feel free, I won't be offended. 

Back before the turn of the century in the mid 90s my Army battalion signed up to run the Sound to Narrows 12K Run (S2N).   All be it under some compulsion, it was a good introduction to what I think is one of the best races in the country.  Though I left the Army in 1998, I kept the running, in no small part because of the Sound to Narrows.  Erin and I began running the race together after we returned from Atlanta in 2003 and have continued to do so almost every year since.  My closet is full of t-shirt evidence.

Some people exercise to lose weight.  Some people exercise to be healthier.  Some people exercise for the endorphin rush and some people exercise because Richard Simmon's tells them to.  It is not a flabby stomach, not good health and not even endorphins but the desire to do well on the S2N that gets me out of bed to run on cold March mornings.   It is my annual test of health.  If I can run it in under an hour then I feel I'm keeping the doctors away.  And if I really want to feel good about myself then I'll beat my personal record.

So sitting in the middle of a sabbatical, I thought, this may be the year I beat my best time.  Hopes were high.  With a few weeks left to race time, I knew from my training that I wasn't going to set a personal best, but I still hoped to beat an hour.  As Erin was out with planter fascias, it was just Jeremy Doty and myself who drove to the race together.  My hamstring had been feeling a little tight the previous few weeks so I tried to loosen and warm it up.  Hamstrings are fickle creatures and mine are the ficklest.  On more than one occasion they've yelled at me, usually while running to first while playing softball.  They yelled so much I quit softball, but now they'd started to whine while running.  Oh hammy's what will make you happy?

Finally the race started and the hordes descended the hill.  The first part of the race is great because its all down hill.  A few years ago I made the mistake of letting loose. I usually run around an 8:00 mile, but by the second mile I was averaging 6:30/mile.  I knew then I was either going to have the greatest time I'd ever had or barely finish.  I'll let you guess which it was.  On this day I held back and was at a nice 7:15 pace at 2 miles.  This was good, but then the hammy started whining.  Actually it sort of screamed, not a pop, but more like a bubble ran across the back of my leg.  I pulled up, and it quieted down.  I slowed my pace and was okay for another mile. I started to feel good enough that I pushed the gas a little - Yelp!  There it went again and I pulled up.  This happened three more times over the next mile.  By the fourth mile I seriously began to wonder if I could even finish let alone beat an hour.  I decided to really slow it down and just try to finish.  I watched as people almost twice my age and 1/3 my age; people twice my weight and half my weight passed me.  A version of a Clash song ran through my brain, "Should I slow or should I go now?  If I slow there will be trouble, if I go it could be double."  My lungs said go, but my legs said slow.

Letting up helped so halfway through the 5th mile I decided to stretch it out.  Bit by bit I increased my stride and the hammy remained quiet.  At mile six I looked at my watch, and it read 46:30.  I still had a chance. If I could run this last 1.4 miles at an 8 minute pace then I'd beat an hour.  Only problem was our nice downhill start was now an uphill finish.  I continued with the masses heaving, lumbering, huffing and puffing up that hill.  At mile seven my watch read 55:30 and I knew I was going to beat an hour as long as the hammies remained quiet.  Lo and behold, like babies in a rocking stroller they must have fallen asleep because I was able to finish the last .4 miles in 3:27 and finish the race at 59:10.

And thus another year where I can still feel good about my health.  I think I'll put that over 40 physical off again.  And next year, look out Mark Spadoni, I'm gunning for 14th in the Male 40-44 category.  JB Gilchrist, you can probably relax.

Day 34: On the Radio

June 9

I can now admit that when I see Reggie Pearsol's name on my phone I usually let it go to voice mail.  Some of you know that Reggie is the music teacher at Manitou Park Elementary.  He also organizes their musicals and spring performances.  He is a master at gathering volunteers and these wonderful events would not be possible with them.  A couple of years ago I was caught in his volunteer net when he needed some people to help with the Spring play "On the Radio."  I had a bit part as an Elvis impersonator, but when another teacher was unable to perform I was upgraded to the role of radio DJ Marvelous Mike.  The play went really well and ended up being a lot of fun.  It went so well, in fact, that Mr. Pearsol decided to bring it back this year which is why he was once again calling me.

I tried my best to get out of the play offering multiple excuses.  

"I'm not sure I'll have the time."  

"I'll be on sabbatical then."  

"Wouldn't you like to get others involved?"  

He countered every defense I gave.

"It won't take too much time."

"We'll work around your schedule."

"There will be plenty of chances for others to be involved." 

  Okay, I conceded, but this time I prefer to direct the actors instead of performing if that was okay.  Sure, he said, we can do that.  Ten practices and a dress rehearsal later and we were finally at performance night.  You can see some pictures and a video below from how that went.  

"On the Radio" performed at Mt. Tahoma by 2nd & 3rders from Manitou Park Elementary

Joseph was one of my actors.
He played a son who just wanted to listen to the Beatles.

Sorry for the poor video quality and being 90 degrees off

Days 26-28: For Pete's Lake

June 1-3

I love backpacking. Erin and I got out on the trails frequently back in the day...the day before our kids came along.  As our  kids have gotten older we've started taking them on day hikes to great benefit.  Our clan can be in the grumpiest moods all but impervious to any efforts to change their attitudes but by thirty minutes into a hike every thing has changed.  Things went so well hiking that I thought it worth taking things to the next level: backpacking.  Before taking the kids, I thought it wise to dust of the camp stove and thermarests and see for myself if even I had still had what it took for a couple of nights on the trail.  It's a good thing I did for by the end of my three days in the woods I had discovered that my boots were too small, I needed a camp stove and Cooper Lake wasn't worth a night's stay.

Two intrepid explorers about to embark.

Several of these creek crossings needed traversing on the trail

Tallulah and I set off on Wednesday, June 1 from Salmon La Sac campground on the trail to Cooper Lake where I planned to camp.  Five minutes into a hike up the hill in which I was realizing fifty pounds was probably too much for a guy who hadn't backpacked in ten years, I passed a mountain biker who asked my destination.  "Cooper Lake?" he replied, "don't you know you can drive there?"  Yes, I did know that, but his saying so didn't help.  Five miles later I arrived at Cooper Lake and realized the campsites were all pay to sleep.

This wasn't what I was looking for.  So I decided to keep hiking another four miles to the more remote Pete's Lake.  Other than the damage on my toes, this proved to be a good decision.  I ended up seeing fewer people on the trail than I can count on one hand and there were even fewer staying at the lake.

Pete's Lake from my campsite

 I could not have been more satisfied with my campsite which I'm convinced was the best on the lake.   It had access to water, a great view, was near the inlet of the Cooper River and free of any neighbors.  Well there were some neighbors nesting adjacent to my camp but they were there first.  While searching for wood I came across the tightly woven hummingbird nest you see in the picture below.  Those are eggs inside the size of which are just amazing.  They really look like those tiny candy eggs you get at Easter.  I resisted the temptation to taste them.

The next day I was admittedly disappointed when I heard voices and the jingle of a dog's collar. Tallulah began her protective barking at a smallish black lab.  An older couple followed behind the dog.  They introduced themselves but as I often do quickly forgot their names.  I thought they'd said Peggy and Stu.  "Nah," that couldn't be right, that was just me with a Buddy Holly song stuck in my head.  "Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue, oh how Peggy I love you..."  Of course that was the song that I feel asleep to.

The next day the couple stopped by to say hello and a little conversation.  By this point I'd been alone long enough to thirst for a conversation with someone who didn't bark.  As it turns out, Buddy Holly was right and their names were Peggy and Stu. They were a retired couple who lives in Duvall where he works at a used book store.  They try to get on the trail as often as possible while their bodies still allow it.  If forced to guess, I'd put their ages in the late 60's.  They gave me hope for more trips in my twilight hears.  We had a wonderful conversation in which I learned that Stu builds Mandolins.  I told him about my recent dive into bluegrass music and wondered out loud if he might consider building a mandolin I could purchase.  "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I don't know if I could sell you one.  I'd rather make a few dozen before doing that."  This kind of perfection, of course made me want one his mandolins even more.

The next morning I left camp around noon after making myself a mug of tea.  Loaded up with bruised toes and a lighter pack it dawned on me that I had gone to the woods to enjoy the hospitality of creation - a goal that was undoubtedly attained.  What I hadn't expected was to also enjoy the hospitality of strangers.  Thank you Peggy and Stu for your kindness and conversation.

It was nice to be able to have a fire by the lake

This Rocky Road pudding may look gross but tasted delicious

Tallulah waits for me  to catch up on the trail

Pete's Lake

Days 24 & 33: Raspberries, Righties and Rainbows

May 25 and June 8
Some of you may remember us mentioning our neighbor's house burning down several years ago.  One of the boys in that house, Steven, went to Manitou and was in the same grade as Will.  Despite moving a couple of times Steven continued to go to Manitou.  Last winter I coached a basketball team at the Boys and Girls Club on which Steven played (very well I might say.)  At the end of that season I invited the boys to join our baseball team.  Two of them did, one of whom was Steven.  I was very excited to add a couple more players to our long running team, but there were two problems.
     First, Steven's aunt and uncle could pick him up from practice but couldn't get off work in time to take him.  This problem was easy to solve as myself and some other coaches were able to give him a ride.  Sometimes, as you can see from the pictures below, Steven just came home from school with Will.  This was great for us because Steven would quickly head through the house into the backyard and back to the basketball hoop.  Our kids like basketball, but usually prefer other activities, except when Steven is around.  Within seconds of arriving he's leading a game of HORSE.
     The other problem was simply this: Steven had never played baseball.  He'd never been to a baseball game.  He'd never even seen a game played.  The first day of practice I had to show him which hand to put the glove on.  "Uh oh" I remember initially thinking, "I was hoping this season would be one where all the kids started to 'get it.' but now we're starting at the beginning with Steven."  Oh well, that's coaching, right?  Then, after getting the glove on the correct hand Steven threw the ball and my fears vanished..."Pop!"  It nailed the glove of the other player.  Steven could throw the ball.  By the end of the second practice, he was on the mound working with our pitching coach.  He did so well that we put him in to start our second game and here's how the first inning went.
Batter 1: Strike Out
Batter 2: Pop out to the Pitcher (Steven)
Batter 3: Strike Out
     Steven exited the field to raucous cheers and some proud coaches who were sure we had the next Felix Hernandez on our team.  Then the next inning went like this.
Batter 1: Walk
Batter 2: Walk
Batter 3: Walk
Batter 4: Walk
Batter 5.... well you get the picture.
     We had to pull Steven after 4 runs scored and my pitching dreams went from King Felix to Bobby Ayala (sorry M's fans for speaking the name of the reliever who shall not be named).  Winston Churchill once said, "Success is not final, failure is not fatal; its the courage to continue that counts." Churchill would have loved Steven because he continued - through many more strikeouts and walks.  By the end of the season he'd started to put it together and struck out the side in his last inning of our final game.
     I considered sitting this baseball season out when I received the sabbatical grant.  I knew I'd miss several games and didn't feel like I could coach the team being so absent.  Fortunately Jeremy offered to be the head coach while Jason and Erik offered to take on some more responsibility.  It is so great coaching with other guys who are willing to share the load.  Had that not been the case we'd have missed the chance for things like shared raspberries, rookie righties and rainbow diamonds.  What a shame that would have been.

Raspberries are worth taking a break from basketball

The 2016 Mighty Manitou Bulldogs

Coach Jeremy leads the team in our  last cheer, "Go Manitou."

Turns out instead of finding a pot of gold, its diamonds are at the end of a rainbow.