When Nothing Says a Lot

When nothing says a lot.

 My 10^th grade honors history teacher used to say  that “Silence is Golden Mr. Vanderoef, perhaps we could have some Golden time”. I loved Neil Fleming, for all of his crazy hair and New England colloquialisms and for his passion for European history. When we all got our class lists everyone warned us that Mr. Fleming was mean, really mean. However when I look back, I cannot remember a class at Mahopac High School in 1991 was better. We had Mrs. Dell for honors Spanish (highlighted by Alison Pinchbeck and my inability to just ask her out…), don’t remember much except prior to teaching HS Spanish Mrs. Dell was a flight attendant. Honors English we had Mrs. Del(something) I remember she was clueless that half the class was cheating on vocabulary tests. That and I was still bothered that in 3^rd grade Amy Gruber beat me in the school spelling bee (If it is FebRuary, then people should say it Feb’R’uary… Just saying). We had Mr. Diccicio for Honors Math 3… This was the year we did stats and I fell out of love with math. I did end up scoring Continental math league honors (when is doubt the answer is 4, trust me 4). We had Mr. Dark haired soccer coach for honors Biology… Thank you to Megan Burnes (spelling) for doing all of the dissections. I recall skipping the frog version to take my driver’s license test (nailed it). I guess I remember Mrs. Kopp’s gym class…we played “no sweat basketball” as we had NO showers. Walt Sadowski and I created the “hands up defense”, basically the average high school kid is a spaz and you don’t really need to play defense, just put you hands up no matter where you are on the court and the kid will miss.

But Mr. Fleming’s class is burned into my head. His white chalk on blackboard version of “the battle of hastings” should hang in the Louvre. I can still see each volley of English arrows come from the hilltops. He’d get so excited the combover would let loose a few strands of his thinning hair. I can’t help but miss it a little. I moved after sophomore year- clear across New York State to Buffalo… Mr. Fleming said to me when he found out “You know Mr. Vanderoef, suicide is redundant in Buffalo!” I think he was the first adult to ever give me sh1t like I was a peer. It was the reason Darren Mahoney, Mike Fennessy, Daniel Sumber and I all wanted to yell “Neil” when he walked into the room like Norm from Cheers. That and because you’d get something great from Neil everyday when he first talked to us (like these from Mr. Peterson).

I guess this has very little to do with running and so I should just focus…

Today Patrick Makau ran the world record in the Marathon. 

An insane new World Record of 2 hours 3minutes and 38 seconds. He ran so fast reigning world record holder Haile G quit, not once, but twice. And the talk of the boards and notes of our team at adidas running (the adidas running team, we make the stuff) is that it is the World record in the very first wearing of the adizero adios 2, the adizero adios 1 was the worn in the former WR and by this year’s Boston Marathon winner Geoffrey Mutai in the fastest marathon ever run.

So the footwear guys are pretty excited, as they have created the fastest marathon shoe ever (again)… Of interest to those that care about such things or for those able to see the images here. The shoes have changed and I have to tell you the new shoe is amazing, worthy of world record praise, but what I notice is that the World record and World’s fastest marathon both seem to have been run in the same uniform. I guess you can figure out what the fastest marathon gear in the world is without a post or self-adulation.

The adizero singlet and adizero split short have been a part of both world’s fastest and world’s best, without a post.

I guess Mr. Fleming was right, Silence is Golden, but Fast is Green.

Thanks Neil.

Postcards from the edge without asking or telling

Hello readers... [note: I did not edit or proofread tonight]

So I just got home from work at 10pm (22:00 for our european readers)... I am really tired and don't have ton to share...

I ran 5km tonight to keep the streak alive... I am running at 5:45 tomorrow and it is with George so it should be nice...

But tonight I will celebrate to things I cannot believe from back home...

One... hooray for Americans being slightly less backward and letting any American who wants to serve their country serve in the military. I have never had an urge to go to war or kiss another man... but I have also never understood how those two things are related. A friend in the military told me once "The reason you can't understand the importance and connection is because you have never done it." My smart ass answer, "that is what all of my gay friends say about kissing men!" 

I am quite ok not doing both, I do love my country and the ideals that serve as it's foundation and I am proud of all that serve and protect those freedoms. Those freedoms that include the right to chose your partner and live your life. I still don’t think the question should be asked… I am fine with “do you plan to protect and serve the American people and the US constitution at the cost of your life?” If the answer is ‘yes’ my only response to any man or women, gay or straight, is thank you for defending my right to be free.

And two… the post office is going to fail… send someone you care about a postcard for crying out loud. Not an e-card, not a letter, just a postcard. Say something as simple as hello or as complicated as “The pretty ballerina armpunches el guapo solo for all of time.” [that one is code]

I guess I don’t care what you say, but take the time to say you care…

Chain Polymerization and the Laws of Attraction

Chain Polymers and the Laws of Attraction

 

Fear not my loyal readers you are indeed in the right place… And for those of you whose hearts just jumped and started to hyperventilate--- relax and calm your mind… There is no need for the panic attack, you are not having an organic chemistry acid flashback (though they told you all of that drinking and drugs would come back to haunt you) nor is this the nightmare about the exam you needed to ace to in order to avoid retaking Organic Chemistry sophomore year… It is  neither of those things, but both at the same time…

This is EmoCHEM 101 :Chain Polymerization as a Metaphor for Love and Happiness in the World.*  Depending on how you fare in this course you can move on to more advanced classes in the science and philosophies of Love on the Run.

I am really excited to be able to share some time with you chatting about chemistry… I know, AWESOME, right? I know what you’re thinking… “Today is going to be a really great day in the Blogosphere!!” (I promise not use the word Blogosphere without making fun of it ever again, please note the sarcasm implied here as well). I think it will be pretty great as I try to use chemistry to explain the unknown workings of the runner’s heart. I will admit straight off I am not a love advice expert unless your goal is to learn how to rush into it or foul it up immensely (with grace and style of course). I am, however, a student of the game and will do my best to find in chemistry an understanding for the mysteries of simple love (complex love is covered in EmoCHEM 375: Girls: What They Say vs. What They’re Thinking… all male students please note you do get a foreign language credit for this class)

And what better was to learn than a little Socratic method? Of course to do this we’ll need two points of view so today’s lecturers will be colour coded for ease of reading and because I like pretty colors.

In RED will be Chem class notes explaining the “science” of Chain Polymerization.

In Blue will be “college pessimistic Craig” [CPC] who had to watch a lot of DB’s get the girl while he felt as though he was wronged by society and the world itself.

In ORANGE will be “currently trapped in Nuremberg Craig” [CTNC] who realizes [CPC] had a chip on his shoulder, was a bit insecure and still manages to cause issues with girls to this day.

Both men consider themselves to be experts and both will prove this belief to be false via their life choices and responses herein.

Let us begin…

Gentlemen, welcome and thank you for time today shall we get down to the topics?

[CPC]: Whatever, as long as the jacka$$es in the back don’t drink all of the soda while I’m up here.

[CTNC]: Sounds great… what was the topic again and why isn’t this lecture on Outlook?

College Craig as you are more connected to the academic world we will ask that you respond and relate each step to the world of running romance first.

Chain Growth in Polymers; occurs if there are two general conditions: a motive and opportunity

[CPC]: I guess (note this is CPC’s catch phrase)… I guess this basically how Hooking up works: when you’re kind of you know “lonely” and there are a bunch of hot chicks going to some party that you’d kinda like to hook up with and knowing you kinda wanna hook-up you go to the party. The party has to be during the off season or in between cross-country and indoor track so you can actually stay out past 10pm and not fall asleep at the party, which is not a problem for frat guys as they only take 2 classes a day while getting fat at 21- while spending their parents money and pretending it’s their own.

[CTNC]: Okay bitter Bear!! Though I agree that the motive is the same, boys want sex and getting sex is a pretty good motive. Over time I think the greater motive isn’t sex in and of itself, but rather it is sex with the person you actually like and you don’t have to fake sleep, an early run, or some form of illness to get out of the room after it’s done. Opportunity I think becomes more and more rare over time, amazing ladies you’ll find are fewer and further between the longer you look. And the chances to actually interact with them or rather react with them are the things you spend nights awake thinking about… I think it is a balance between the two factors, but I think opportunity is the harder factor to find.

The reaction first needs an initiator to get things going and get the bifunctional monomers moving.

[CPC]: I don’t know much about ‘bifunctionals’ I am into just chicks, but hey whatever you’re into is your business. basically this is alcohol, alcohol is the initiator. Please note I am not saying I think only A.I.W.’s (alcoholically impaired women) and drunk guys hook-up, but it seems the less you drink the less you hook-up. And just having things in common is not enough, nor is being a decent person, or smart, or funny or pretty much anything other than being rich. SO I would assume that the two initiators to love in the modern world are booze and money.

[CTNC]: Wow, pretty amazing that you’re still single, shocking! The initiators over time change only slightly, booze still works, but I think as I grow older the catalyst is more often situational. I won’t lie boredom is a very powerful force and can make things happen. I think the great initiator over time is the fear of more time. More time scared- more time alone- more time thinking about more time. Then something happens to bring those fears to the fore in your life and you reach out to the closest like person or for the heart you most want to be part of and hope for the best because the realization is that what you really fear is not having them.

At this stage free radicals are formed.

[CPC]:I guess this is when single people realize they are horny or bored enough to hook up so they put on their good jeans and best t-shirt (or Sundress if they’re girls) and head out to get drinks and see what the corner bars and frat parties have to offer. They start to drink and get a little crazy.

[CTNC]: I think this is really when you cast off doubt or the fear of failing and rejection gets trumped by the fear of not trying or knowing. When folks get rid of those fears and open themselves up just a bit to the idea that there could be happiness, or love… I guess this is when we for a time suspend our reality and try to believe that fairy tales and romcoms have had it all right all along.

Free radicals then react with other free radicals in the solution to create a growing chain. This step is called propagation

[CPC]: The girls get drunk enough to forget all of the BS about what they are looking for in a guy. ‘I want someone smart, caring, funny –Gosh I mean I’ll take a guy that can make me laugh over some big hunky guy any day’. (pure crap!) Finally they just look for the guy they cannot have or the guy they just think is hot enough or good enough. This is also when the guys stop pretending they are picky and too cool for the chicks that like them and they start making out on the dance floor. Neither party will admit this is how they started dating or that they have ever done anything like that, but this is what happens. Then you see the chick you’ve been walking home from class for two months walk out of your neighbors door at 7:30am on a Sunday as you head out to meet for the team long run.

[CTNC]: I actually agree with the first part two people stop with all of the games, all of the BS and let down their guards long enough to actually let someone in that they known they can trust. I don’t think these walls stay down but for the moments they do, we get the chance to love and be loved.

[CPC]: and hook-up

[CTNC]: Yes… and I suppose the chance to hook-up… but also the chance to wake up next to a person you are not scared is going to kill you in your sleep. Basically I think this is what Walt Disney referred to as being “twitterpated”. Which has birds tweeting and I think could be the foundational concept of the website. As just like in love stories, no one else cares about the details and they are much to short for women to really enjoy, but they keep hoping for more next time.

This continues until no reactive monomers are left. Then the last two radicals react and the when the last one occurs it is called termination.

[CPC]: People keep pairing up on a descending scale of hotness until everyone is with someone else until the last two people look at one another and basically evaluate their drunkenness to desperateness ratio and say “Ah hell NO!!” and walk home. They end up stopping at the White Spot or Little John’s for food they will undoubtedly vomit up later, yet remember as “the greatest sandwich ever!”

[CTNC]: I think, as we get older we certainly start to see our friends “couple-up” for all sorts of reasons. But I do not think the terminal point of the reaction is one that marks the end but rather an opportunity for further growth. A lovely lady once told me the “best case reactions are those that are simplest and most stable.” I think that’s where love and the polymerization chain meet up. We are all connected to our friends, and families, and to those we love and have loved- I think perhaps the polymer chain is really the whole of our lives and our loves. It is a link of all of the experiences and relationships we have had connecting the person we were to the person we are now while gaining growth, strength, and stability. The Termination is the point at which we are out of free radicals. Out of the need to add more links to the chain as we have become the person we’ve needed to be. At that time there really is only one other free radical that makes sense, all of the others disappear and the other reactions are finished but perhaps here is where the chain ends and love begins. Which sounds dreadfully simple… if only we knew which free radical we were waiting for when they’d be by it’d make the whole thing much easier.

Indeed it would… That is about all the time we have today and about all of the fake science and philosophy I think the readers will be able to deal with for a while. I hope this exercise has proven interesting and insightful into the worlds of chain polymerization and the sadly boring life that is the expat existence in the NBG.

Thanks again to all imaginary players I am off to work on my underwater basket weaving Masters…

*(Please note the author and lecturers never took Organic Chemistry, or O-Chem as it was referred to at the University of Virginia… in fact Mr. Vanderoef is mostly Truncating notes from the often overlooked work referred to in many circles as “Pretty Pink Polymers: Notes from CHM5274 on 9/16/11” and poorly doing that.)

Running in the Rain

Running in the Rain…

Little known secret… I have always loved the rain. And to be honest not a little rather an awful lot. I recall as boy in New York I would go down to our basement garage and watch the rain like it was a movie. I would bring a snack, (I mean let’s be serious what’s a movie without a snack?!?!) and sit on the stack of fifty pound concrete bags my father had piled in there, why he had them I have no idea I don’t think he every mixed concrete. Anyway, I had my snack and this blanket that was black and tan with a golden yellow border and printed with big cats, you know lions, tigers, perhaps panthers or pumas or catamounts or cougars or mountain lions or any of the other names for the same big cat that used to range all of the Americas.

Anyway this is not an essay about the plight of predators in the Western hemisphere in a postmodern age, it is about loving the rain and all that it has to offer. And to me it offered freedom or newness or something that felt like those things to a boy of that age that lacked the experience and poetry to express it. Needless to say as a boy of six or seven and as one of four or five kids, depending on the actual age (up until nine it was four, that’s when Heather showed up on the day I became a runner. But that my friends is another story… Try to FOCUS! We are talking about the rain.) I was NOT allowed to go out and play in the rain. I was not allowed out in the rain because God forbid one of us were to get sick then we would all be sick. I mean I get it from my mom’s perspective, let one out in it and they’ll all want to go out in it and that means four sets of muddy footprints, four baths, four more outfits to wash… and basically a whole lot of work for which no one probably ever said “thank you” (Thank you- Mom). Regardless of her actual reasons I was always a spectator to the splendor on nature’s stage but longed to play a part in of all the tormented skies and windblown bliss that I saw out that window.

But it was a non-starter and eventually I just stopped asking… that is until I started running. An amazing thing happened when my mom started carting me all over the place to run road races on Saturdays and Sundays in the Westchester/Putnam region of New York (Thanks again for believing in this whole thing before I did Mom)… They started the races no matter what, they were the postal carrier’s of sport… I mean I got to run in every type of weather I ever wanted or didn’t want. I can recall a race in Montrose that was the hilliest, coldest, sleet storm I had ever experienced (worst still I was not top male 14 and under which meant I lost). But for all of the discomforts and complaints, for all of that… I was allowed outside in the rain!! Outside in the rain without parental supervision for the better part of an hour… and it was EFFING AWESOME!!!

I was hooked; running in the rain became my thing and my mom bought into it… I could go out and play in the … I mean “go out and RUN” I meant to type ‘run’,  I could go out and run in the rain whenever I wanted to and I always wanted to. I was a force on rainy days in cross country, the milers got slowed down in the mud and it evened the playing field. On through college I was just better in the rain, more connected to the things that made me feel fast confident, just more me. I guess at that early age more “who I would become” than me, but I loved it… I mean I was  freakin Gene Kelley when I ran in the rain… I could hear the words -see the puddles -feel the splashing… heck I was the crazy guy on the lamppost  I was happy again, I was laughing again, I was singin' and runnin' in the rain... … (and do not make me type the dooby do dooby bit)

It was really me at my best, it was me happy.

I am the one and only person that loves autumn and winter in Seattle. And I really do… in the summer I miss the rain, I can say without hesitation or a hint of irony I moved to the Pacific Northwest for the rain. And yes I know my friend Jesse is swearing at me for even thinking it- and I am sorry for typing it… worse still, for the love of Pete… I miss it. I miss it as much as I miss my house, my runs at Greenlake or Discovery Park, and only slightly less than I miss freshly made burgers at Burgermaster. (Bless those people, when you can call and order two cheeseburgers-easy onions, fries, and a super Coke-no ice and be asked “Craig are you going to bebringing Kenya with you?” That’s is service and all in just seven minutes.) But I think you get my drift.

I know you’re saying “What about being soaked?” and I say as a professional that creates running gear we have beaten the rain, get a decent running jacket, our team makes a bunch of them and the new ones that will hit in the next few months will blow your mind.. and keep you dry. So quit whining about it and buy a baseball hat and second pair of shoes so one is always dry.

Rambling at this point… but I guess that’s because I’m in a good mood, I’m feeling more like me… I guess it’s because I ran ten miles on the Tiergarten trails this morning with Mac, Curious, and Andy… I guess it’s because it was ten miles of laughing, ten miles of friends…

…it was ten miles in the rain.