“Do you go to church?”
We stopped in our tracks. Blinked. Our dog pulled on his leash uneasily.
“Do you go to church?” barked the portly woman again. Her brow furrowed. Clutched in her fist was a stack of pamphlets. Dangling from my hand was a bag of stinky, liquid dog poop.
“You guys do go to church, right?” she demanded.
My girlfriend and I exchanged furtive glances. We had just come from a local street fair and were in a good mood. The summer evening air was cozy and warm. Delicious homemade food sloshed in our tummies. Even the dog had a good time with a few organic gourmet doggie treats, though his stool indicated otherwise.
It’s funny how one person can turn an otherwise good day upside-down.
“Sure,” I muttered.
“What? You go to church, right?”
My mind struggled to process this situation. It’s not every day that I’m interrogated on a nice summer evening like this. I nodded.
“Which church do you go to?”
My girlfriend cleared her throat. “It’s… not around here…” she said with a sideways glimpse in my direction. I nodded in consent of the unspoken agreement between us.
“Oh really? But you DO go to church, don’t you?”
This lady was relentless.
“Yea, sure,” I threw into her face. “We go to church, okay?”
She eyed me. One eye narrower than the other.
“Which church do you go to?”
Relentless. My girlfriend and I exchanged glances again. The bag of liquid poop started to feel like a hot potato. I started walking forward, my girlfriend and the dog right behind me.
“It’s not around here,” I barked.
She scowled. Both eyes narrow. “Good,” she stated. “God be with you.”
I shook my head and we pushed forwarded. Her countenance disappeared behind us. The dog farted. My girlfriend and I gave each other another look. We rolled our eyes in unison. Sighed. Then laughed as we walked home.
You know the feeling? You’re in a trash compactor with sewage water is up to your waist. The walls are closing in, fast. And your trusty protocol droid just can’t seem to figure out how to save you.
I’ve been feeling that lately. Just looking at my laptop would send shivers of stress up my spine. I’m not the only one too. There are quite a few others who are also equally tense. Maybe you’re one of them.
It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? While some people are being laid off and finding their days empty, others are being loaded up with work out their asses. Yes, it’s as painful as it sounds.
Why is this happening?
The answer is simple. Companies can’t pay as many employees as they used to, so they lay people off. That means fewer employees. However, it doesn’t mean less work. The level of work remains the same. Thus: fewer employees doing the same amount of work.
If you’re swamped with work right now, chances are you’re picking up extra tasks from two of your former colleagues. Or maybe three.
It’s not necessarily a bad thing. In this economy, most people would rather be swamped with work than to have no work at all.
But being overworked still sucks, doesn’t it?
I don’t really have a point here. Being overworked sucks. It feels like the walls are closing in on you. But in this economy, I’d rather feel that way than to have no walls at all.
I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. It’s tough to think coherently when those walls are closing in, getting closer, and closer, and closer, and — squish!
Are you a love virgin?
Allow me to explain. If you go by the traditional definition of the word “virgin,” it means a person who has not had sexual intercourse. If you’ve ever bumped uglies in the night, hid the hot dog, or taken the bullet train through Yonker’s tunnel, then no, you are not a virgin.
What about a love virgin?
The term “virgin” can also be used in non-sexual contexts to mean a lack of something. A Pina Colada Virgin, for instance, is a Pina Colada cocktail without alcohol. A love virgin, therefore, is someone who has never fallen in love.
Some people go through life never experiencing love. Some do and don’t know it. Still others do and won’t admit it. While all three are potential dating hazards, the first kind — the true love virgin — presents an especially difficult case.
Most people have experienced it at least once. While there isn’t a limit to the number of times one could fall in love, it would be logistically difficult to have felt it more than, say, twenty times. Unless, maybe, you’re a thousand-year-old vampire or something.
For most people, love isn’t an emotion or a state of being that happens easily. It’s not like buying ice cream at the supermarket. It’s more like buying a condo or house, relatively speaking.
I’ll bet some of you are shaking your heads right now. “I fall in love almost once a month,” you’re thinking to yourself. “It’s not as rare as this doofus makes it sound.”
Sorry to do this, but see your bubble there? Now look at this pin in my hand. Burst!
If you fall in love that often, chances are you haven’t been feeling love. What you may have been feeling is infatuation. A very deep, passionate infatuation, perhaps, but infatuation nonetheless.
It is easy to confuse infatuation with love. Love isn’t a feeling that fades in a matter of weeks. It takes years, decades, even lifetimes. Or perhaps it never truly fades; it just evolves into a more elemental emotion.
Infatuation, on the other hand, is defined as an “all-absorbing passion” (see why it’s so easy to confuse it with love?) that doesn’t last. It doesn’t grow or evolve. It just remains at that level, then dips like the sunset.
If you are still in your teens or early twenties, it isn’t uncommon to be a love virgin. Some may even argue that you don’t really know what love is until you’re older, though I think that’s bullshit. But if you are still a love virgin at this age, don’t fret. You are not alone.
If you are in your thirties or forties, however, then you should be concerned. That’s a long time to go through life without ever falling in love. It isn’t impossible, but, well, something may be wrong.
Are you afraid of being hurt so much that you avoid relationships? Are you consciously or unconsciously isolating yourself from strangers? Are you ending relationships before they have a chance to mature?
There is something beneath the surface that isn’t quite socially healthy. Or at least, socially acceptable by the norm.
On the flip side, if you are dating a love virgin, then be careful. Just as a sexual virgin isn’t quite sure what to do with all the rods and cones, a love virgin isn’t quite sure what to do with all the messy emotions that come with being in love. This isn’t a slight against love virgins, it’s just a fact. Lack of experience begets lack of understanding.
For example, jealousy can play a big part in love. Most people new to love will find this curious, yet nagging emotion sitting on their shoulder from time to time. The little green devil may occasionally nip at them, throw an all-out tantrum, or crawl away and lurk just behind the ears.
With experience, many learn to cope with this emotion. They realize its roots in insecurity and put it away appropriately. However, a love virgin doesn’t yet have this experience. Thusly, the little green devil is out to play.
There is more. Mutual love is a delicate sheet of rice paper. Push too hard and it will crumble. Pull too hard and it will tear. With experience and a few failed relationships under your belt (no pun intended), you will hopefully have learned how hard to push and how hard to pull.
A love virgin at age forty, unfortunately, hasn’t had the benefit of such experience. Such an individual may unknowingly come on too strong and suffocate the object of their desire. So dater beware.
To be fair, there are many patient people in the world who can deal with a middle-aged love virgin, just as there are many understanding people in the world who can deal with a middle-aged virgin. (“You know what? I respect women! I love women! I respect them so much that I completely stay away from them!”) So it isn’t the end of the world if you are a love virgin.
But to those dating a love virgin, if you don’t have the patience or tolerance to deal with a new crop of emotions and lack of experience, be careful. Their only experience with love is what they’ve seen in movies. And as we all know, life isn’t like the movies.
Do you have any friends who seem to be a lot of drama? Or have a lot of drama in their lives? Or seem to attract a lot of drama?
Sure you do. Everyone does. Drama is what makes the world go round. Everyone has some measure of drama in their lives – and if they don’t, they’ll seek it out from TV soap operas or create it with other people.
But let’s be careful here. The word “drama” is a loaded term. It means different things to different people. Let’s take a look at some of those variations.
At the basis of drama is some kind of interpersonal, social, and/or emotional conflict. Everyone has elements of conflict in their lives, either of their own doing or through outside influences. It’s as unavoidable as back problems and taxes. But that’s not what we commonly consider drama.
Drama, as we typically use the term, is meant for those exaggerated cases far above the norm. It is conflict at high volume. When it is in a story, book or television, it can be very entertaining. When it is between you and family, friends or coworkers, it can be very stressful.
Let’s look at some types of drama. A few of these overlap and hybrids do exist.
- Emotional Drama
- This kind of drama is characterized by seemingly unwarranted, exaggerated emotions in reaction to some event. Everyone reacts to crises differently; some are even-keeled and calm, others rabbit through panic and distress. Emotional drama is the latter variant. An emotionally dramatic person will react with extreme vigor, no matter the degree of the event. House burned down? Aaaaaaa! Spilled some milk? Aaaaaa!
- Passionate Drama
- The cousin of emotional drama is passionate drama, which shares some of its outward appearances. People being passionately dramatic are showing excessive emotion and using intense language to convey their reactions. The difference is that emotional drama tends to originate from an underdeveloped sense of emotional intelligence, whereas passionate drama spills from an extreme emotional bond to a particular topic. Basically, these people are sooo passionate about something that they are not able to accept beliefs that are contrary to their own. Hearing such a contrarian is simply heresy. Aaaaaaa!
- Invented Drama
- A more insidious form of drama is invented drama, the kind that is fabricated because the person is vindictive, or sadistic and bored. You’ll spot this variant when one person attacks another person’s sensitive spots — otherwise known as “pushing one’s buttons.” The purpose is to incite the other person; the more frustrated the other person, the more satisfaction the originator feels. Even if it’s subconscious. People who invent drama may do this in the name of passionate drama, though they are really trying to hurt you, not express outrage. Aaaaaaa!
- Antisocial Drama
- This type of drama is characterized by a pervasive disregard of other people’s feelings and rights. Lying, cheating, stealing, bullying, and abusing with no remorse are all symptoms. At times, they can seem almost sociopathic and narcissistic by the way they callously ignore the feelings of others and only care about themselves. Some are able to hide behind superficial charm or sexual prowess, though if you cross them, they’ll pull out their claws and antisocial drama behavior. Aaaaaaa!
- Identity Drama
- Someone who sees the world in strict black and white terms (no shades of gray) and has identity issues may be exhibiting borderline drama. These people may also have problems maintaining friendships and general relationships. A misalignment in the way they view life and themselves, in other words. Aaaaaaa!
- Narcissistic Drama
- Ever call someone a “ham” or “show-off”? That person was probably exhibiting narcissistic drama, which is typically characterized by an unhealthy load of self-love. They are the center of the world and they want everyone to know it. If you don’t, you will be assaulted by non-strop drama until you do. Aaaaaaa!
- Insecure Drama
- Though it is a bit of a blanket term, those that are insecure may bring with them waves of insecure drama. Such drama can be manifested by obsessive-compulsive clinginess, profuse pessimism, a constant need for reassurances from others, and frequent verbalizations of their ineptitude. The stark opposite of narcissistic drama, they suck and they want everyone to know it. Aaaaaaa!
- Attracted Drama
- Some people unknowingly attract drama, though a handful do it consciously. They either have such plain lives that they seek out “spice” or they tend to befriend people who exhibit one or more types of drama listed here. Their own lives may not have much drama, but encircling themselves with such friends can give them an air of drama. However, since like-minded people tend to cluster together, oftentimes a drama magnet is a dramatic person too. Aaaaaaa!
- Stupid Drama
- There are no such things as stupid questions… only stupid people. Ha! But seriously, some people just do stupid things that happen to trigger drama. Maybe it’s out of ignorance, maybe it’s a lack of tact, maybe it’s an underdeveloped sense of social intelligence or street smarts. Whatever the case, they’ll likely do something that places them or other people in some kind of trouble and conflict. Qualifying for stupid drama isn’t doing something goofy on occasion. A person needs to be doing really stupid things fairly often. Aaaaaaa!
Yes, there are many types of drama and dramatic people in this world. Know your drama and be wary of it. In small doses, it may be entertaining. But a constant deluge can drown you.
How much is that doggie in the window?
The one with the wagglely tail.
How much is that doggie in the window?
I do hope that doggie’s for sale.”
- B. Merrill
Soon, a little bundle of teeth and fur will be scurrying around my feet. He’s an emaciated Labrador Retriever & Terrier mix, about one year of age, with a calm, though timid disposition. We rescued him from a local animal shelter.
I’ve had three dogs consecutively as a kid, two from pet shops and one from relatives. Being a kid, I didn’t care about where the dogs came from, only that we got cute puppies. It wasn’t until a few months ago that I began learning about where someone could get such a faithful companion, and how those sources differed.
To cut to the chase, there are several ways one can get a dog:
- Pet Stores
- Breeders
- Individuals
- Animal Shelters
- Animal Rescues
Pet Stores
The most obvious choice might be pet shops. That’s where my family got our first two dogs. I vaguely remember walking up to the window and seeing a bunch of excited little puppies pawing at the window, their wet noses leaving trails of snot.
Many of these dogs come from puppy mills or puppy farms. The quality of these commercial breeding facilities were exposed by the Humane Society of the United States (and later, by Oprah Winfrey), as being extremely poor. The dogs are kept in tiny cages and receive little medical care, leading to health and social problems later in their lives.
Since puppy mills are a commercial enterprise, when demand is up, they kick up supply. Meaning, every time a female dog is in heat, she is forced to breed. Unfortunately, when demand is down, the “excess” animals have nowhere to go and typically end up euthanized.
In 1966, the Animal Welfare Act was passed to regulate breeding kennels such as these. There are probably a few legitimate puppy mills out there, though most of the sources I’ve read or people I’ve spoken to warn against buying dogs from pet stores because of these puppy mills.
Breeders
Some people intentionally breed a particular kind of dog, even going as far as to breed particular kinds of traits. Professional breeders report each birth to dog registries such as the American Kennel Club, to record a dog’s lineage. The dogs can be purebreds or crossbreds, depending on which is in fashion at the time.
A few of these lucky dogs go on to dog shows with lavish lifestyles (lavish for dogs and, perhaps, for humans too). They are vigorously trained, groomed, and paraded in front of cameras. (Again, much like some humans too.) The excess animals, much like in the case of puppy mills, typically end up euthanized as well.
You can purchase a dog from a breeder if you want a very specific type of dog. Be prepared to pay fairly high fees, however. Although many breeders try to avoid propagating particular traits, breeding by its very nature can sometimes include inbreeding, which usually leads to genetic disorders.
Individuals
You ever see someone parked by the side of the road with a big sign saying, “Free puppies”? That’s probably someone with a family dog who has gotten pregnant and given birth to a litter too copious to feed.
A free puppy from a loving family is probably a fair and economical choice. Such opportunities are rare, however. If you’re looking for a specific breed, it’s even rarer.
There is another class of individuals who will do that, though their sign won’t have the word “free” on it. They are typically known as backyard breeders and, without any guidance or regulation, are trying to make a buck or two.
Backyard breeders are sometimes compared to puppy mills and breeders, in that they are more concerned with profit than the dog’s welfare. Though I didn’t find any information stating this, I assume the excess animals are also euthanized.
Animal Shelters
Not all of the excess dogs from puppy mills, professional breeders, and backyard breeders are euthanized. Many end up at animal shelters, also known as dog pounds.
These organizations accept all the unwanted or lost animals that no one else will take. Some provide basic health care and prepare them for adoption. Others have a no-kill policy where they will care for the animals for the rest of their lives, if they aren’t adopted.
Sadly, the number of dogs in animal shelters has been increasing as a consequence of the economic recession. Some families are unable to afford their homes anymore and move away. In many cases, they abandon their dogs, leaving them to fend for themselves. Many of these dogs die. A few are picked up by dog catchers who take them to animal shelters.
It is tough to tell what kind of dog you’ll find at a shelter, breed-wise and temperament-wise. You’ll find a motley crew of dogs and mutts there, some abandoned, some lost from home, some from breeding organizations. Every time a dog is found, the shelter will not allow them to be adopted for a week or so, in case the dog simply got lost and the original owners come looking.
The shelter at which I found our dog told me they sometimes find up to sixty dogs a week. They also have to euthanize a large number of them, because their facilities simply cannot hold that many animals. The only way these dogs get to survive is if someone adopts them.
Animal Rescues
Animal rescue organizations are similar to animal shelters, though they focus specifically on getting their dogs adopted. Many of these rescue groups are run by volunteers, as opposed to animal shelters which may be operated by city employees (though some animal shelters are also run by volunteers).
These organizations come in many different flavors. There are rescue groups for specific dog breeds, there are networks of volunteer foster homes, and there are animal rescue shelters with kennel facilities.
Many of them rehabilitate their dogs so they are more adoptable, including training, playing, socializing with humans and other dogs, solving behavioral problems, and dealing with medical issues.
This rehabilitation makes dog rescue organizations a good choice if you would like a low-cost and well-trained dog. The volunteers can usually even tell you about the dog’s temperament, training (housebroken or not), medical issues, and other basic care issues.
Where do you want to get your dog from?
So where do you want to get your dog from? Where should you get your dog from? Many animal lovers and animal activists recommend shelters and rescue organizations, since there is such an abundant supply of dogs out there, just waiting to be adopted or euthanized. But if you must go for a purebred or specific crossbred, professional breeders are also an option, albeit a more expensive option.
Regardless of where you get your faithful companion from, you’ll soon be enjoying a little bundle of teeth and fur around your feet, just as I will be. Woof!
When I first heard the acronym “IE” I thought it meant “Internet Explorer.” That’s because I am a web geek and IE in the web world means Internet Explorer.
Now I know better. The initials IE can stand for many things. A web browser that has frequently frustrated many a web developer. A Latin abbreviation for “id est,” which corresponds to “that is” and not “for example.” Or a hot, dry, wasteland of a Californian desert with the occasional pocket of life and delicious food.
I don’t mean to offend the residents of the IE. There are many great things about this area. Like any other region, it has its good elements and not-so-good elements.
E.g. (“for example”), there are some nice college towns out here, most notably UC Riverside and the lesser known University of Redlands. Both are surrounded by the usual campus niceties, such as vibrant coffee shops, cheap rental housing, and relatively safe neighborhoods. There’s also a bit of nightlife here, though I’m way too old for that crap now. Oh my aching bones.
There’s also a respectable teaching hospital here in the city of Loma Linda. With facilities spanning almost the entire city, if you get hurt in the area, you’re bound to run into a doctor who can help. The city also sports a population primarily of Seventh-day Adventists, further underscoring its relatively low crime rate.
Also known as the 909 (San Bernardino & Riverside’s area code), the IE was once the site of an up-and-coming boom. The dot-com period was a time of significant urban development, especially in cities like Rancho Cucamonga. Outdoor shopping malls, cookie-cutter apartment complexes, and post-modern office buildings were sprouting as fast as useless websites with no real business models. It was a good time to be in the IE back then, so I hear.
According to Jim Stewart’s book “The 909″, there are also artists and writers here. Perhaps a thriving art community as well, I’m not sure. I haven’t actually read the book; I’m just citing its synopsis from Amazon.
San Bernardino city is also the home of the very first McDonald’s restaurant. It was originally a barbecue restaurant set up by brothers Dick and Mac McDonald in 1940. They noted that their best sellers were hamburgers, so they retooled their restaurant and created their “Speedee Service System,” making them a fast food legend. Also, I just saw on the news that their French fries have the lowest number of calories amongst all fast food fries, including In and Out’s fries.
Pretty good stuff, huh? But what about the bad stuff, the not-so-good elements of the IE?
Going with the IE’s perhaps better known nickname, the 909, I found the following definitions on Urban Dictionary:
The area code in Southern California for Riverside and San Bernardino County; usually associated with white trash.
…A great place to live between Los Angeles and Las Vegas if you don’t mind the meth labs, cows, and dirt people.
The arm pit of southern california. or the meth lab capital of the world
My oh my.
And my observations? There are an awful lot of Ford pick-up trucks here with “No Fear” stickers. Every time we go hiking, we spot mud-covered motorbikes and ATVs. A fair number of trailer parks and undeveloped plots of land cover this region. Seeing a field full of overgrown weeds and perhaps an abandoned shack is a common sight. And I mean really common.
If you are a single female, you should avoid walking alone on the streets at night. All the empty fields make for extreme danger.
While there are a handful of tasty Japanese, Thai, and Chinese restaurants, you won’t find many other Asian foods here. One Thai place actually serves Chinese food, though it calls itself a Thai restaurant. I’m guessing the owners aren’t Thai.
Chain stores dominate the retail market. It is rare to find a unique boutique store here. I imagine all the Mom & Pop shops shut down years ago. In their place are all the usual culprits: Walmart, Kmart, Costco, Denny’s, McDonalds, Starbucks, etc.
Fortunately, I have yet to come into contact with a meth lab. But who knows, perhaps I drive by them all the time without knowing.
The dry heat is perhaps the most distinctive characteristic of the IE, or 909, or whatever you want to call it. Horrible for both the skin and the paint on your car, the weather follows typical desert patterns — crazy hot during the day, ice cold during the night.
And that, in a nutshell, is the IE: a desert devoid of much, except for a few pockets of really nice hope and niceties. Which, if you think about it, is kind of like Internet Explorer too.
She loved the attention. During block parties, when our neighbors would close off the entire street and BBQ together, she’d scamper to and fro. We wouldn’t find her for hours because she was lavishing in neighborly petting praise.
Then she’d wander home and collapse on the floor, exhausted, happy, and with her tongue dangling out of her panting mouth.
Ginger was a tiny black Pomeranian. She looked like a soot-filled cotton ball with feet. When friends and family rang the doorbell, you’d see this black puff scurry to the door and start yapping.
Although she would try to jump onto you, being only a foot & a half tall meant she came up to your shin and that was about it. Then she’d wag her tail happily until you scratched her ear.
Her barks were more like yips. Sometimes she would erupt into a yapping frenzy and start spinning in circles. It was a futile attempt to catch her tail. Seriously. If you accidentally or intentionally poked her, she would get mad and literally go dizzy chasing her tail. It was the strangest sight.
Walking around at night was a health hazard. She’s dart between your legs, hoping for an ear scratch and potentially causing a stumble. If you stepped on her, she’d yip then chase her tail until she was dizzy.
Going to the bathroom (number one or number two) was always a team affair at our household. Ginger would reliably come over to lie at your feet. Presumably to keep them warm. I don’t think she minded the smell. To her, it was always: duty first — must keep my human’s feet warm.
If you shut the bathroom door, she’d patiently wait outside. If you opened the door and accidentally knocked into her, she’d yip then chase her tail until she was dizzy.
Road trips were always fun. She never threw up and, like other dogs, loved the fresh wind on her face. We had to hold onto her tightly though, since she was small enough to blow away.
Imagine: a car full of Asians passes you by, when suddenly a black puff floats out of the window and onto your windshield, yipping and chasing its tail. Yes, we always held onto her tightly during those road trips.
Leaving Ginger home alone wasn’t her favorite activity. She didn’t tear down the house or anything; she was much too small for that. Instead, she yipped and yapped all day long. Probably chased her tail a few times too.
Upon arriving home, I always sat down with her to give her a good ear scratching. She’d reward me by turning on her back so I could give her a belly scratching too.
Ginger also made a good listening companion. I’m sure she didn’t understand a word I said, though at the time, I liked to think that she was empathetic to my plights. In reality, she probably just loved the attention.
And that was our little black Pomeranian. Our little attention doggie.
You can blame your expensive running shoes on those foot aches, knee problems, and stress fractures. At least, that’s what a handful of articles have been reporting.
This topic naturally caught my attention. After running two half-marathons, I’ve been training for a full marathon. Unfortunately, I had to drop out because of a chronic knee injury that just won’t go away, even after some basic rehabilitation. My next step will be to see an orthopedic surgeon for further advice and perhaps an MRI. Major bummer.
It started innocently enough in an article about toes. Published in March this year, Seed Magazine’s ”The Running Man, Revisited” discusses the endurance running hypothesis: that humans evolved as long-distance runners. The size of our toes, according to a handful of scientists, has given us the ability to run long distances. Specifically: short toes. Long toes increase the amount of mechanical work required by twenty percent.
This is from an article in the Journal of Experimental Biology, ”Walking, running and the evolution of short toes in humans”. Apparently it caused a stir when it was published in February.
Then just a week ago, writer Christopher McDougall penned two articles (that I know of) about the dangers of running shoes. “The painful truth about trainers: Are running shoes a waste of money?” in Mail Online and “What Ruins Running” in the Boston Globe.
In those articles, he reports on the runners in Tarahumara, Mexico, and the fact that they run barefoot. He cited a senior researcher at Nike Sports Research Lab who examined people all around the world who run barefoot. McDougall also interviewed Dr. Daniel Lieberman, a professor of biological anthropology at Harvard University, who said, “’A lot of foot and knee injuries currently plaguing us are caused by people running with shoes that actually make our feet weak, cause us to over-pronate (ankle rotation) and give us knee problems.” McDougall’s conclusion: run barefoot.
My friends and I have naturally been reading these articles with great interest. We’ve all spent gobs on money on running shoes, after all. I have a great pair of Brooks Beasts (thanks again Eric!) that make me feel like I’m running in air. Did we all waste our money?
One runner asked her running coach about these articles. His reply:
Take some time to read [these articles] as I think the have some great points and raise valid questions, however [here] a few objective thoughts to keep in mind. Because the articles also need to be put in context before you chuck your running shoes in the garbage…
- Our society in general, works much, much harder than in generations past, meaning that we spend more time sitting at our computers and less time sleeping/resting and doing the necessary recovery/cross-training activities that are essential for endurance athletes.
- We’re runners so we run. The lack of strength & cross-training can leave a lot of us more susceptible to injury.
- Our society also is very fashion/business conscious, meaning that the majority of us are wearing footwear that is very bad for the strength/health of our feet. (Dress shoes, heels, etc.)
- At an early age, most of our parents put us into stiff shoes, which may have prohibited the muscles in our feet from developing as they should have.
- The article discounts that the majority of people live in urban populations, and run primarily on harder surfaces (concrete/asphalt), whereas many of the runners the author focuses on were running on soft surfaces (cinder tracks, grass/dirt trails, etc). In general, runners who include a small amount of trail running into their regiment (once every few weeks is enough), tend to have fewer injuries. (However, you can’t run 100% on soft surfaces if you are training for road races.)
- This article discounts the thousands of people who have actually benefited by improved technology in running shoes.
As with everything in life, it’s always good to have a balanced perspective, listen to both sides of an argument, and maintain a healthy dose of skepticism.
I’m sure there’s truth in those articles. I’m sure shorter toes really do help us run longer distances, just as I’m really sure shoes in general have made some kind of impact on our feet. But most of all, I’m sure glad I don’t have to chuck my expensive Brooks Beasts in the garbage.
I don’t remember how old we were exactly. Perhaps I was three and my brother was one? Maybe younger?
I don’t even remember incident, it was so long ago. When I saw the photograph, however, I had to cringe. And laugh.
The photograph is gone now. Mysteriously disappeared.
“Did you throw it away?” my brother asks.
I didn’t. No way would I ever do that. It was a piece of history, a hilarious piece at that. I would never throw away a memento like that.
“Man, I remember that picture,” he adds with a chuckle.
We search up and down the house for it. But nada. It was gone.
My parents remember the incident. They laugh every time we talk about it. So they help us search for it too. But still nada. Long gone.
What a shame to lose this piece of history. It depicts my brother and me in a very particular moment.
To understand its significance, you have to understand my brother. He’s a hilarious guy, though the younger siblings of my grade school classmates told me they found him intimidating.
Indeed, he’s never had a problem speaking his mind, nor usurping authority figures if he disagreed with them. This has led to some squabbles and infractions and, I’m sure, a few pissed off teachers and principals.
So the photograph?
It is a picture of my brother and me, still wee toddlers, in the bathtub together. I am sitting in the tub of water, crying. He is standing in front of me, peeing into the water with a big toothy grin.
“I totally want that picture,” my brother continues. “It’s like the perfect example of how I’ve always pissed people off, even as a kid.”
My parents and I laugh. Indeed it is. I really hope we can find this picture again.
- A Girl:
- “I’ll be right Barack.”
- A Boy:
- “Wait. What? What did you just say?”
- Girl:
- “I said I’ll be right back.”
- Boy:
- “No you didn’t. You said you’ll be right Barack.”
- Girl:
- “Yea, you’re right, I did.”
- Boy:
- “That’s so corny.”
- Girl:
- “No it’s not. I’m trying to factor Barack Obama’s name into my everyday life now. He’s a big part of our lives and I want to make sure I say his name at least once a day.”
- Boy:
- “Why not just wake up every morning and say his name? Then you’ll have said it once every day.”
- Girl:
- “That’s just not the same. He means more than just a robotic utterance. He’s our President. He deserves more respect than that.”
- Boy:
- “Oh, but he deserves to be used in corny lines?”
- Girl:
- “There’s nothing corny about that. You’re just projecting.”
- Boy:
- “What? No I’m not.”
- Girl:
- “Now you’re in denial. It’s truly dreadful. You should see someone about that.”
- Boy:
- “Stop that!”
- Girl:
- “Don’t cry. Are you going to run to your Obama now?”
- Boy:
- “No, I’m not going to run to my… wait, what did you just say?”
- Girl:
- “I said are you going to run to your mama now?”
- Boy:
- “No you didn’t. You said… Omigosh you’re driving me insane!”
- Girl:
- “See, I knew you were loopy.”
- Boy:
- “I’m not loopy. You’re the one that’s loopy.”
- Girl:
- “Why, because I’m supporting our President?”
- Boy:
- “Because you’re… you’re… Argh! Weren’t you just leaving?”
- Girl:
- “Yea, but just for a minute. I’ll be right—”
- Boy:
- “Don’t say it! Don’t you say it!”
- Girl:
- “Say what?”
- Boy:
- “You know what you were going to say!”
- Girl:
- “How very unpatriotic of you.”
- Boy:
- “I’m not the one making fun of his name!”
- Girl:
- “Barack you are. You are making a mockery of his name.”
- Boy:
- “You did it again!”
- Girl:
- “No I didn’t. I said but you are. I better tell Obama about you. She’s going to be worried about her son.”
- Boy:
- “That’s it. We can’t have this conversation any more.”
- Girl:
- “Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can.”
- Boy:
- “…”
- Girl:
- “Okay, I really gotta go now. Be right Barack!”
