Thursday, July 17, 2008
JibJab votes and I am there ...
Have a fun day.
Eric
My friend Ed is running the Ironman with me and is raising money for a local charity called the Tempe Community Action Agency. If you can help in anyway, that would be awesome. Here is the link:
http://edtheironman.blogspot.com/
Friday, July 11, 2008
Back on the Chain Gang.
Just a quickie this morning.
I just ran in the most humid rain storm ever. It didn't really rain on me much, just a few sprinkles, but it might as well have. It was so humid that I was completely soaked with sweat about 15 minutes into my run. It was cooler, though. In the high 70's. Anyway, as I was finishing my run and heading back to the office, I ran by a chain gang. No joke. Right before I ran over the Broadway street bridge which spans Interstate 10, the was a policewoman and about 4 or 5 women working a chain gang. They were in the old school black and white striped jumpsuits and were manacled together. As I ran up on them I could see them eying me. Then, as I came next to them, the women started hooting and hollering. I thought "Awesome, I'm get cat calls from felons." So I flashed them devil horns with the hand on my tattooed arm and let out the deepest growl of a yell, "Raaaaawwwwkkkk," all without breaking my stride. The policewoman leered at me. The women on the chain gang hooted and hollered some more, then I crested the bridge and ran out of their sight. That was pretty cool. I've never seen a chain gang before, much less been about 5 feet from one. And one being all women.
A quick left into the cemetery to ponder my mortality and I was done.
I must have looked like I ran through a downpour because I was soaked from head to toe in sweat. It was nasty.
Have a day.
Eric
I just ran in the most humid rain storm ever. It didn't really rain on me much, just a few sprinkles, but it might as well have. It was so humid that I was completely soaked with sweat about 15 minutes into my run. It was cooler, though. In the high 70's. Anyway, as I was finishing my run and heading back to the office, I ran by a chain gang. No joke. Right before I ran over the Broadway street bridge which spans Interstate 10, the was a policewoman and about 4 or 5 women working a chain gang. They were in the old school black and white striped jumpsuits and were manacled together. As I ran up on them I could see them eying me. Then, as I came next to them, the women started hooting and hollering. I thought "Awesome, I'm get cat calls from felons." So I flashed them devil horns with the hand on my tattooed arm and let out the deepest growl of a yell, "Raaaaawwwwkkkk," all without breaking my stride. The policewoman leered at me. The women on the chain gang hooted and hollered some more, then I crested the bridge and ran out of their sight. That was pretty cool. I've never seen a chain gang before, much less been about 5 feet from one. And one being all women.
A quick left into the cemetery to ponder my mortality and I was done.
I must have looked like I ran through a downpour because I was soaked from head to toe in sweat. It was nasty.
Have a day.
Eric
My friend Ed is running the Ironman with me and is raising money for a local charity called the Tempe Community Action Agency. If you can help in anyway, that would be awesome. Here is the link:
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Moving Pictures and the Control Machine ... or the Politics of "Reality"
Before you read this put on your glasses
As I was running this morning, I was thinking about reality.
What exactly is "reality?"
According to wikipedia it means "the state of things as they actually exist." As with 'Truth," "Reality is a subjective thing. Some schools of Buddhism hold that reality is something void of description, the formless which forms all illusions or maya. Buddhists hold that we can only discuss objects which are not reality itself and that nothing can be said of reality which is true in any absolute sense. Carlos Castenadas' Don Juan has a more active view on "reality." His view stated that almost all humans live their day to day lives in a dream world where they are influenced by invisible forces and powers, including sorcerers and spirits. Only by transcending this dream state could one know the "unknown realm" outside the realm of normal everyday consciousness. These people (Nagual) were called "seers." Castaneda often referred to this unknown realm as nonordinary reality, which indicated that it was indeed a reality, but radically different from the ordinary reality experienced by human beings who are well engaged in everyday activities as part of their social conditioning. It's the part of perception which is in the arena of the unknown yet still reachable by man.
What exactly is "reality?"
According to wikipedia it means "the state of things as they actually exist." As with 'Truth," "Reality is a subjective thing. Some schools of Buddhism hold that reality is something void of description, the formless which forms all illusions or maya. Buddhists hold that we can only discuss objects which are not reality itself and that nothing can be said of reality which is true in any absolute sense. Carlos Castenadas' Don Juan has a more active view on "reality." His view stated that almost all humans live their day to day lives in a dream world where they are influenced by invisible forces and powers, including sorcerers and spirits. Only by transcending this dream state could one know the "unknown realm" outside the realm of normal everyday consciousness. These people (Nagual) were called "seers." Castaneda often referred to this unknown realm as nonordinary reality, which indicated that it was indeed a reality, but radically different from the ordinary reality experienced by human beings who are well engaged in everyday activities as part of their social conditioning. It's the part of perception which is in the arena of the unknown yet still reachable by man.
Hmmm ... I don't know, its all so confusing.
Sometimes, I have this yearning to distill my "bought - and paid for" reality down to the natural, true reality of my life. I want to see things as they exist in their most natural, primal state. As I run through the fiber optic - cable TV planned neighborhoods and dirty chemical oozing warehouse districts, on paved streets with carefully manicured landscapes, I slowly realize that this is harder to accomplish than I thought. One must actually go farther out into the wilderness to commune with this rare solitude of a moment than one thinks.
Sometimes, I have this yearning to distill my "bought - and paid for" reality down to the natural, true reality of my life. I want to see things as they exist in their most natural, primal state. As I run through the fiber optic - cable TV planned neighborhoods and dirty chemical oozing warehouse districts, on paved streets with carefully manicured landscapes, I slowly realize that this is harder to accomplish than I thought. One must actually go farther out into the wilderness to commune with this rare solitude of a moment than one thinks.
Away from the omnipotent buzzing of the umbilical cord power lines and the beamed in telescreen messages of shame, fear and control. Away from the kamikaze car wheels and the subsidized back door street deals. Away from the moving pictures of artificially inseminated flat, dead pixels telling me who and what I am or should be. Away from the control machine spewing it's propaganda 24/7 from the power grid and the uber comsumptive mega-convenience store bulimia banquets of greed and gluttony. AWAY.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a hater. I like excess as much as the next person, but in my wiser?, older years, it has been tempered; sometimes I need to peer outside of the bounds of my present "reality" to see the bigger picture. By getting away from these artificial voices in my head I find I slowly start to hear a faint, but strong voice. That voice is MY voice. My true voice. My true self speaking to my perceived self.
Perhaps the reason that mystics, hermits, or the wilderness recluse seem so crazy is that they are actually thinking their own thoughts. So, to those of us still plugged into our "realities" in the control grid, they seem insane. What if we are OK the way we are. What if we don't need a Playstation 3, an Xbox, a cellphone, a blog (what?), MTV, makeup or the latest hairdo or fashion trend? What if there is, gasp, no god or diety? No heaven or hell? What if we make mistakes and look foolish, but it's OK because it just who we are? What if all we really have is right now, this very moment?
No eternal reward can forgive us now for wasting the dawn.
These questions open up a whole new "reality" of unlimited possibilities.
Is it really that easy? Can a question change my life?
I think questions leading to action can change a life.
Ahhhh ... enter the politics of reality.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a hater. I like excess as much as the next person, but in my wiser?, older years, it has been tempered; sometimes I need to peer outside of the bounds of my present "reality" to see the bigger picture. By getting away from these artificial voices in my head I find I slowly start to hear a faint, but strong voice. That voice is MY voice. My true voice. My true self speaking to my perceived self.
Perhaps the reason that mystics, hermits, or the wilderness recluse seem so crazy is that they are actually thinking their own thoughts. So, to those of us still plugged into our "realities" in the control grid, they seem insane. What if we are OK the way we are. What if we don't need a Playstation 3, an Xbox, a cellphone, a blog (what?), MTV, makeup or the latest hairdo or fashion trend? What if there is, gasp, no god or diety? No heaven or hell? What if we make mistakes and look foolish, but it's OK because it just who we are? What if all we really have is right now, this very moment?
No eternal reward can forgive us now for wasting the dawn.
These questions open up a whole new "reality" of unlimited possibilities.
Is it really that easy? Can a question change my life?
I think questions leading to action can change a life.
Ahhhh ... enter the politics of reality.
Peer pressure and social acceptance are powerful, subtle influences. I tend to view what happens to people who think for themselves (in extreme cases) and are in the public eye with caution. They usually end up six feet high on a cross or six feet down in the ground. Balance seems to be the key.
Anyway, when I run I feel like I tend to disconnect from everything for a little bit. My mind wanders in and out of itself and I seem to unite with a purer level of thinking, like an unconscious consciousness, if that makes any sense. Like I am joining the collective consciousness of the world, a sort of universal consciousness. This morning was one of those runs. It's funny, too, that runs where this happens seem like they're over sooo quick. It is almost like I'm on auto pilot, in a deep meditative state, aware of my surroundings, but completely in the zone.
As usual, I finished my run through the cemetery, which always grounds, or amplifies, my experience.
Some people run towards death. Some people wait. Some people worry.
I think death is a friend, whispering into my ear compelling me to tempt it.
Hmmmm, some heavy thought for a Wednesday. I don't know ...
Live free, die well.
Eric
Anyway, when I run I feel like I tend to disconnect from everything for a little bit. My mind wanders in and out of itself and I seem to unite with a purer level of thinking, like an unconscious consciousness, if that makes any sense. Like I am joining the collective consciousness of the world, a sort of universal consciousness. This morning was one of those runs. It's funny, too, that runs where this happens seem like they're over sooo quick. It is almost like I'm on auto pilot, in a deep meditative state, aware of my surroundings, but completely in the zone.
As usual, I finished my run through the cemetery, which always grounds, or amplifies, my experience.
Some people run towards death. Some people wait. Some people worry.
I think death is a friend, whispering into my ear compelling me to tempt it.
Hmmmm, some heavy thought for a Wednesday. I don't know ...
Live free, die well.
Eric
My friend Ed is running the Ironman with me and is raising money for a local charity called the Tempe Community Action Agency. If you can help in anyway, that would be awesome. Here is the link:
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Inspiration: Why I Tri
First, I saw an article about Robert McKeague, a 77-year-old man who finished the Ironman World Championships in Hawaii (he just finished last years at 80.) I thought, man, if he can do it at 77, I should be able to do it now. There's really no excuse.
Second, my boys, then 4, 2 and 1 were already starting to run circles around me and I wanted to be in good shape to keep up with them.
So, my journey started.
My inspiration for doing triathlons continued as did my quest.
Ed, my friend who is doing the Ironman with me in November (his blog is HERE), and myself signed up for the "Fat Tire Off-Road" Triathlon. We only had three months to train but we made the effort. While in line to pick up our race packets three days before the triathlon, we were behind this forty-ish looking gentleman. We started talking to him and found out he was in his mid-fifties. He was solid like a rock and the coolest, chillin' dude you'd ever want to meet. I made a vow to myself right then and there that this is how I wanted to age. That was inspiration number three.
Inspiration number four came to me about 12 weeks into training for my first Ironman. If you've never heard of Dick and Rick Hoyt, you need to watch this. Then this. Then go here. If you can watch these without crying, you're not human. Or, you lie. Whenever I don't want to train or am feeling sorry for myself, I watch those video clips. Works every time. That first video got me through 18 weeks of insane training and scheduling nightmares. No excuses.
Inspiration number five came about 18 miles into the marathon of my first Ironman. As I was crossing the Mill avenue bridge en route to the third and final loop of the marathon, I noticed a man in a wheelchair cheering like crazy. It hit me like a load of bricks, "I bet that man would love to feel the pain I am feeling in my legs right now." I could just tell that he yearned to be out there with the rest of us pushing our limits. Instantly the pain in my legs dissipated and I picked up my pace. I started to feel really good. If you look at my run splits you'll see that I ran the last loop almost as fast as the first loop. Inspiration.
As I enter the 11th week of training for Ironman Arizona on November 23rd, I continue to be inspired by all the stories in the world about people overcoming to realize their dreams. Each one helps me move closer to my dreams and helps me realize that you truly can do whatever you dream if you work hard for it.
With that, I challenge you to examine your own dreams. What can you do today, right now, to further yourself along the path to your dreams? If your not chasing your dreams, why not? As I wrote in my first blog, were all running with the dead. Our time here is so minimal. What are you waiting for? Who can you inspire? Go, Now ...
Be well,
E
Again, my friend Ed is running the Ironman with me and is raising money for a local charity called the Tempe Community Action Agency. If you can help in anyway, that would be awesome. Here is the link:
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