So, last saturday I competed in my first Jiu Jitsu tournament. It was called the Bud Cup, and it was hosted at the Cabarrus Arena. Although I really only ended up competing for 25 minutes total, it took all day and was a long time in the making.
I have been doing Jiu Jitsu now for about 7 months. If you dont know what it is...look it up on wikipedia. The important thing to know is that it is similar to wrestling with submission involved. A submission is when you have someone in a position that will result in extensive bodily damage or unconsciousness unless they "tap out," which is the universal sign for "please dont keep doing that...it really hurts and/or its making me sleepy/ my brain needs that blood." tons of fun.
So, last monday, I started the week by weighing myself. I was planning on competing at featherweight (under 145 lbs), so i had to eat less food that week to make weight by Friday. I love to eat, so eating less while still training was a slow, annoying misery. Come friday though, I had lost about 6 lbs and weighed in at 144 (weigh ins were at this hotel, where they had registration in a conference room and the actual weigh-in was in a room, in a bathroom, with this older guy...yeah, insert joke here). After weigh-ins, i ate a turkey melt, french fries, and ice cream. so good.
So, come saturday morning, it was time to compete. I had registered for two divisions at featherweight (gi and no-gi beginner) and one division at lightweight (145-155). At the NAGA tourny I watched, gi was last, so that is what I was hoping for. On this day though, gi was done first. The thing is, I dont even own a Gi! A gi is a jacket and pants used for jiu jitsu...its actually a weapon you wear, since you can choke people with it. Its as if someone said, "hey, jiu jitsu would be more fun if instead of being strenuous it almost killed you! Let do this while wearing a coat and pants, to help us sweat more!" I only train in no-gi, but the tourny was one price for as many divisions as possible. So, i borrowed a gi from a friend and training partner (mma great Kurtis Cloward) and went to ONE CLASS to learn the basics. So, as of saturday, i was putting on my gi for the SECOND time ever. Luckily, my training friends helped me tighten my pants and tie my belt (which I had to find in the lost and found, since Kurtis' belt was blue, the next level up in skill) right before I was to compete. In my first match, I got taken down and pulled guard at the same time (i am going to bold words to google for pictures of). Nonetheless, I lost 2 points. I had a few triangle choke attempts, fended off some collar chokes from my opponent, but then the 5 minutes ran out. I lost 2-0. Lame
Then I proceeded to wait a small eternity for the gi divisions to finish. There are something like 5 skill levels and 6 weight classes in each Men's, Women's, teens, and Master's division. The combinations are extensive....so it took FOREVER.
Finally, it was time to go again. I checked in for no-gi featherweight, and then was called to check in at no-gi lightweight also. They at first balked at this, since both divisions would be going at the same time. Me and the other guy (who actually had beat me in no-gi) suggested they just schedule us for both divisions, and if there was overlap we would forfeit. turns out, we were first in lightweight, so off we went. Now I was going against the same guy I lost to in no-gi. Lame. Guess what happened. I pulled guard, but they called it a take down. I escaped, and got taken down again. Time ran out with him in my guard. I lost 4-0. He never even attempted a guard pass or a submission. as mentioned...lame. (on the sorta bright side, i accidentally elbowed the guy in the mouth. he wasnt wearing a mouthguard so i busted his lip. he then bled on me. the referee reminded me to shower later, since i had blood in my shirt. would i have forgotten to shower if he had not told me? who knows.)
So, at this point i had competed in two levels that werent really mine, and had lost both. i was getting annoyed. finally, it was time to compete in no-gi at my weight class. So, the match started, and I did a better job defending the takedown. I managed to get under the guy's shoulder for a body lock on his side. I was about to dump him hard, when we got close to the crowd, so we had to stop. then we worked in the clinch some more and he was about to get a single-leg when I ended up in the crowd. Another restart. Finally, with about a minute to go, I got a takedown. I held on and stayed in his guard and won 2-0. It was no submission, but it felt good.
Next, I faced the guy who had beaten the guy who had beat me twice. All the guys were super quick, strong wrestlers. So, he got the takedown. Then, he passed to side control. I managed to get back to half-guard. In the process though, he started working on a submission. He had my arm trapped over my head, so it was not good for me. I got a lockdown on one of his legs, but that didnt alleviate as much of the punch-choke that I would have liked. I relaxed, and eventually I surged up and got my arm free, back to regular half-guard, minus the choke attempt. Then, time ran out. Another loss on points...maybe 4-0, but nonetheless I survived a pretty mean choke and submission attempt. I count it as a morale victory.
I thought I was done, but apparently, the winner that match went on to go for 1st and 2nd. This meant that I would get to compete for 3rd. As I sat in the chair exhausted, the ref asked how much time I wanted to recover. I asked for 2 days. He told me I could have 10 minutes. So, I waited. One of the guys I train with came over and asked if I really wanted to go again. I told him "yes and no." I wanted to get third, but I would have preferred not to move from my seat for a long time. He understood.
Last match time. I remembered watching this guy before. He was super fast. I felt like I was in trouble. I wanted to sit down at the start to avoid the takedown. (ala Eddie Bravo) I stood though, and he flew in like M. Bison for the double leg takedown/ slam-my-head-into-the-mat move. The crowd flinched and made noise to reinforce my pain (i did the same actually, in unison). We were near the edge though, so i had to then crawl back to the middle to start again. On the bright side, I had full-guard. So, like other wrestlers, he did nothing from my guard. He put his head low in my chest a couple time, head butting me on the way down. Finally, I sat up, noticed he was sitting up too, and then hip bumped to get the sweep, ending up in mount. He went from strong and flexed to relaxed and weak. Its amazing how much he changed when I was sitting on his chest. It felt real comfortable. I tried some submissions, but nothing really came through. Then, I think he escaped, and in the scramble, we ended up like we started, in my full guard. Then, he sat up too much again, so I did sweep number 2. Man that felt good. Back on top, he decided to roll, so I took the back (back mount). From there, I sunk in a pretty tight body triangle. He didn't like that and I could hear him grunting from the compression of his torso. He tried to roll a couple time, but with a body triangle there is nowhere to go. I proceeded to attempt a rear naked choke a bunch, but he held my hands and tucked his chin, so I wasn't able to get it. I won 12-4. No submissions, but man did it feel good to get third and to win my last match.
This week has been an off week. I am enjoying the down time, working on school, and each day I find a new injury to let heal (the head butts to my face caused bruising under my eyebrows...weird). What an awesome experience. The most fun I have ever had in such a short time (25 minutes of total mat time). BJJ record lifetime: 0-1, 0-1, 2-1
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
We all should be giving more
Christmas time is about giving, right? But why? Its as if dying for the sins of man really only entitles you to a month (maybe two tops) of behavior in your honor.
Why dont I give the rest of the year as much as I do at Christmas? Many will point to the economy in answering this question and say something along the lines of not being able to afford it. These are the same people who would point to something else, even if the economy was raging and they had just receieved a Christmas bonus. Maybe for me, its just easier to give at christmas, because well, everyone else is doing it. (Disclaimer: although I often try to convince others to follow me by stating "everyone else is doing it," I dont generlly subscribe to that reasoning myself).
Make no mistake about it. I am rich. If you own a car, or have ever even driven a car, you are rich. I own a BIG car. If you are reading this, most likely on a computer, you are rich (if you are reading this printed in a newspaper, let me know....because that would be really cool). I own a computer, have access to 100s more at school, and am still considering getting a new one. I also own a cell phone, which is basically a computer also, and its a pretty low end phone. Even aside from the car and computer examples, if you have never really struggled for housing or food, you are richer than most of the rest of the world. Every night I sleep in a warm bed and eat until I am full. I am rich.
As a rich person, I think I should be giving more. So, I have decided, that whenever anyone not as rich as me asks me for money (or help), I will give it to them. There are obviously some details that need to be established (how rich am I? how rich are they? Whats the maximum amount I will give?), but for now, I can see where I need to be involved. Whenever Bojangles asks me to give to Toy for Tots, I give. Whenever the Salvation Army rings their bell and I have cash, I give. Whenever one of my friends asks me to volunteer with them, I am there.
It remains to be seen whether or not this will cause me to descend into poverty or rise to greatness.
Why dont I give the rest of the year as much as I do at Christmas? Many will point to the economy in answering this question and say something along the lines of not being able to afford it. These are the same people who would point to something else, even if the economy was raging and they had just receieved a Christmas bonus. Maybe for me, its just easier to give at christmas, because well, everyone else is doing it. (Disclaimer: although I often try to convince others to follow me by stating "everyone else is doing it," I dont generlly subscribe to that reasoning myself).
Make no mistake about it. I am rich. If you own a car, or have ever even driven a car, you are rich. I own a BIG car. If you are reading this, most likely on a computer, you are rich (if you are reading this printed in a newspaper, let me know....because that would be really cool). I own a computer, have access to 100s more at school, and am still considering getting a new one. I also own a cell phone, which is basically a computer also, and its a pretty low end phone. Even aside from the car and computer examples, if you have never really struggled for housing or food, you are richer than most of the rest of the world. Every night I sleep in a warm bed and eat until I am full. I am rich.
As a rich person, I think I should be giving more. So, I have decided, that whenever anyone not as rich as me asks me for money (or help), I will give it to them. There are obviously some details that need to be established (how rich am I? how rich are they? Whats the maximum amount I will give?), but for now, I can see where I need to be involved. Whenever Bojangles asks me to give to Toy for Tots, I give. Whenever the Salvation Army rings their bell and I have cash, I give. Whenever one of my friends asks me to volunteer with them, I am there.
It remains to be seen whether or not this will cause me to descend into poverty or rise to greatness.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Part 3
Part 3
Jerrod told us that we were going to run down Camden until
its dead end brought us to Tryon. It looked like a small street with no traffic on it, so we figured it would be a short sprint. The short sprint turned into about a mile sprint before I called Jerrod back to find out how close we were. Part of me really wanted to know where the end was while the other part of me wanted to talk on the phone and give me an excuse not to be running. Pretty much as he picked up, we arrived. Inside Dharma lounge we found a bar behind which sat a giant gold Buddha with headphones on. As we entered, we saw some people doing Yoga, and we were invited to join. At this point, we had run a significant amount, so as the instructor gave us poses to assume, I realized that sweat was falling off of me. Also, the cooler floor combined with my warmer body made for a nice condensation spot where I had been. After about 5 minutes of Yoga and stretching, he gave us a secret word, and onward we ran.Our next stop was a set of 18 ft tall statues that depicted the creatures who used to pull Dionysis’ Chariot in Greek Mythology. The only giant statues of creatures I knew of in Charlotte had to be the Panthers outside the stadium (Jerrod confirmed). So, we hopped back on the light rail. Actually, we hopped on an old school trolley that happened to be driving on the light rail’s system. The old timey guy “driving” even asked us for tickets. We showed him our old ones and that seemed to be good enough for him. Once on the trolley
we realized that it was a sort of special tour trolley and the other 4 people aboard were tourists from out of town. They saw our race numbers and our exhaustion and asked what we were doing. They thought we were running some kind of race, but couldn’t figure out why we were on the train. We explained the whole situation, much to their enjoyment. Then we asked to be let off right when we were back in uptown, for another good 1 km sprint to the stadium. Once at the stadium, we had to count the number of named on the pedestals below the panthers. The names represented people who has donated money. X number of columns of names times Y number of names per column times 2 pedestals equaled 2096 names. Two places left to run to!
The clue talked about “canned” beer. So we ran to Cans, a bar in uptown. Once there we learned of our challenge. Lets back up to the day before. AJ and I were trying to figure out what to expect by looking at what we were told to bring to the race. The list of supplies was fairly simple: 1) water 2) a $1 dollar bill 3) snacks. Once we went inside Cans, we found out what it was that this dollar was for. We gave the guy our dollar and he put it in “The Mike Tyson Challenge”…a punching bag attached to some flashing lights and a hydraulic. We had to get a certain score to be able to move on. The bartender assured us the score wasn’t hard to get, but that we just had to hit it solidly. At this point I am laughing internally. It wasn’t coincidence enough that the cross-fit place mimicked mine and AJs training in jiu-jitsu. It wasn’t further coincidence either that I spent a lot of time at school doing Yoga. Now, I was being asked to punch a bag, something I routinely do for 6-7 hours per week, minimum. To make things weirder, I had been thinking about these
The clue talked about “canned” beer. So we ran to Cans, a bar in uptown. Once there we learned of our challenge. Lets back up to the day before. AJ and I were trying to figure out what to expect by looking at what we were told to bring to the race. The list of supplies was fairly simple: 1) water 2) a $1 dollar bill 3) snacks. Once we went inside Cans, we found out what it was that this dollar was for. We gave the guy our dollar and he put it in “The Mike Tyson Challenge”…a punching bag attached to some flashing lights and a hydraulic. We had to get a certain score to be able to move on. The bartender assured us the score wasn’t hard to get, but that we just had to hit it solidly. At this point I am laughing internally. It wasn’t coincidence enough that the cross-fit place mimicked mine and AJs training in jiu-jitsu. It wasn’t further coincidence either that I spent a lot of time at school doing Yoga. Now, I was being asked to punch a bag, something I routinely do for 6-7 hours per week, minimum. To make things weirder, I had been thinking about these
games the week before, wondering if they were accurate and if it was worth the money. So, I was excited to do it! Without any real warm up, I stepped back, raised both of my hands in front of my face (in case the bag decided to hit back), and hit the bag with a right cross. It took a little while to count up to my score. I slowly grinned larger and larger as the number climbed past the minimum we had to achieve. I almost set the record for the machine. (I still grin, imagining if I had tried some exotic punch like a spinning backfist or a switch cross, which generate much more power but are harder to land on a moving target).
Friday, November 20, 2009
Adventure Race: Part II
Urban Adventure Race: Part 2
“Do you know what Finnish company is the leading cell phone manufacturer?” After taking a picture of A.J. (to prove our existence at the checkpoint) and getting samples of licorice (that unfortunately tasted like licorice), we texted “Nokia” to the special number. The answer was correct and we received a follow up clue, directing us to a place that was famous for “canned” beer (there is a bar in
Jerrod was having a hard time with the clue, but we knew the location. A new development just outside the perimeter of uptown was being built and it was called The Metropolitan at Midtown. So, we ran toward it. Then we jogged toward it. Then we walked. It was crazy far away. A.J. was in much better shape so he could have run the whole way, but he couldn’t carry me at the same time. Just before we got to midtown (and after passing other racers coming from that direction), Jerrod figured out that Zoe was one of the words meaning life. Fortunately, there was a Zoe’s kitchen, just another couple miles off in the distance (or so it seemed). Once we got to Zoe’s, our challenge was to pitch a meal item to the server. Being a server, this was pretty easy. Ironically, “being a server with limited menu knowledge where I work” actually became a skill usable in the race.
The follow-up clue to this challenge was to go back to The Crowne Plaza hotel and find a room that corresponded with a long mathematical equation that was given us. The answer: Room 1126. The Challenge: Paper
Upon exiting the
The light rail was something of an enigma for us at first. We walked up onto the platform and stood there to wait. Then it occurred to A.J. that we were probably supposed to pay. I hadn’t seen any method for giving anyone money, and being out of breath and less patient than normal, I was content to ride the train for free unless it was obvious how to pay. A.J. further insisted that we try harder to give the city money, so we rode an elevator down one story. We arrived at the underpass for a road. No office. No kiosk. No “put money here, take ticket there.” I sprinted back up the stairs worried about missing the train (nothing like a race to make me lose common sense). After much searching, we found a ticket dispenser and we paid and got tickets. Jerrod told me they have troubles with people not paying to ride. Seems silly to me to rely on honesty for public transit funding. Are turnstiles really that expensive?
Jerrod eventually came through with the clue. Before we actually got to the gym though, we got off the light rail in a rather “industrial” area. Jerrod told me on Google Maps it looked like not such a good place. Had it been dark, it definitely would have been uncomfortable. Once we got near where we thought this place was, we saw a kid’s gym and at least two other locations that could have been answers to the clue. We couldn’t find the Ultimate Crossfit (the answer). A group of racers began to amass, all of us sort of lost, but sure we were in the right area. One person would run around a corner and we would all run to the corner to find out where they were going (which was wrong). Then someone else would run across the street so we would all sprint to their location to find another closed business. It was quite comedic. Finally, we saw someone leaving a door at the end of the park, and we all ran there, and we were right
“Pukie” the clown is apparently the mascot of this place called Ultimate Cross-fit. Sure enough, when we got there, we did some crazy exercises that would indeed make me vomit had I been out of shape and doing a one hour workout (which may or may not have been harder than running around the city for 3 hours). Interestingly enough though, the exercises were similar to what I have been doing in my Muay Thai/ Jiu-Jitsu training.
Once set free from this gym, we sprinted back towards the light rail in search of a Lounge that had shared the name of the fictional science project from the show Lost (in hindsight…that’s kind of funny…Lost).
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Urban Adventure Race- Part 1
Charlotte Go Urban Adventure Race- The story
Step 1: Recruitment
I got an email from a sort of boss of mine at Venture that there was an upcoming “Urban” Adventure race. The problem was that the email was two weeks before the race, and only a few days before the price increase deadline. So, I quickly called a bunch of people I knew and sent out facebook messages. It seemed like nobody actually answered their phones when I called…as if they knew I was calling with a moderately crazy idea. Finally, a guy named AJ who used to work at Venture sort of acquiesced and agreed to be my partner. Teams had to be two people. Once I got another person to run along side me, I had to find a support crew. The race suggested either carrying a laptop (i.e. an electronic weight), bringing an I-Phone or some other internet accessible phone (umm…sometimes I eat out of the dumpster, so I wouldn’t ever spend that kind of money), or get a friend to look up stuff on the computer for you. Enter Jerrod. He would later become the most important part of the plan. Step 2: The race Race day finally arrived. As I was trying to recruit people and when AJ asked me about what we would be doing, I really had very little idea what was going to happen. Conversations went something like this: “Hey, you want to do an urban adventure race with me?” “Urban? What does that entail?” “Well, I am not totally sure. I have looked at the website. There is text messaging involved. I imagine they will give us points and you gotta run to them. They say there are challenges. Then probably more running. All I really know is it probably takes lots of running.” Well, now that I read it, maybe people were afraid of the amount of running. While I generally don’t advocate for having fear, in hindsight I can recognize that there was an inordinate amount of running.
Anyway, I called Jerrod the morning of the race around 11:30. The race started at noon and I needed Jerrod to use Google to help decipher the clues and help me get from point to point. Jerrod was at Home Depot when I called, taking advantage of appliance tax incentives. He promised he would be in front of his computer though by noon. At 11:50 I called him again, a little worried. He told me he was on his way home, and would get there right after he stopped at Lowes to check some more prices. I pleaded that he hurry because I NEEDED him at the computer at noon. We were going to be helpless, unless we were able to solve clues on our own, which I didn’t see happening. Then Jerrod told me he was just kidding and he was pulling in the driveway. Jenn, his girlfriend, also said hi.
Clue 1:
Once the race started, we knew what we had gotten ourselves into. We were given 4 texted clues. After getting to each of the 4 locations, we would do a task and get 4 new clues for new locations with 4 new tasks. After 8 locations and 8 tasks, we would have to race back to Marshall Park.
Our first clue had something to do with “ScanFest” and a foreign flag with blue and white on it. Jerrod found out that S.C.A.N. (Society for Creative Anachronism) was having a convention at the Wachovia Atrium. So, we sprinted there to get our first challenge….
Step 1: Recruitment
I got an email from a sort of boss of mine at Venture that there was an upcoming “Urban” Adventure race. The problem was that the email was two weeks before the race, and only a few days before the price increase deadline. So, I quickly called a bunch of people I knew and sent out facebook messages. It seemed like nobody actually answered their phones when I called…as if they knew I was calling with a moderately crazy idea. Finally, a guy named AJ who used to work at Venture sort of acquiesced and agreed to be my partner. Teams had to be two people. Once I got another person to run along side me, I had to find a support crew. The race suggested either carrying a laptop (i.e. an electronic weight), bringing an I-Phone or some other internet accessible phone (umm…sometimes I eat out of the dumpster, so I wouldn’t ever spend that kind of money), or get a friend to look up stuff on the computer for you. Enter Jerrod. He would later become the most important part of the plan. Step 2: The race Race day finally arrived. As I was trying to recruit people and when AJ asked me about what we would be doing, I really had very little idea what was going to happen. Conversations went something like this: “Hey, you want to do an urban adventure race with me?” “Urban? What does that entail?” “Well, I am not totally sure. I have looked at the website. There is text messaging involved. I imagine they will give us points and you gotta run to them. They say there are challenges. Then probably more running. All I really know is it probably takes lots of running.” Well, now that I read it, maybe people were afraid of the amount of running. While I generally don’t advocate for having fear, in hindsight I can recognize that there was an inordinate amount of running.
Anyway, I called Jerrod the morning of the race around 11:30. The race started at noon and I needed Jerrod to use Google to help decipher the clues and help me get from point to point. Jerrod was at Home Depot when I called, taking advantage of appliance tax incentives. He promised he would be in front of his computer though by noon. At 11:50 I called him again, a little worried. He told me he was on his way home, and would get there right after he stopped at Lowes to check some more prices. I pleaded that he hurry because I NEEDED him at the computer at noon. We were going to be helpless, unless we were able to solve clues on our own, which I didn’t see happening. Then Jerrod told me he was just kidding and he was pulling in the driveway. Jenn, his girlfriend, also said hi.
Clue 1:
Once the race started, we knew what we had gotten ourselves into. We were given 4 texted clues. After getting to each of the 4 locations, we would do a task and get 4 new clues for new locations with 4 new tasks. After 8 locations and 8 tasks, we would have to race back to Marshall Park.
Our first clue had something to do with “ScanFest” and a foreign flag with blue and white on it. Jerrod found out that S.C.A.N. (Society for Creative Anachronism) was having a convention at the Wachovia Atrium. So, we sprinted there to get our first challenge….
Saturday, October 03, 2009
As I was chopping wood earlier...
As I was out in the woods chopping wood earlier...
I know what youre thinking. Two questions. 1) dont you live in the city? what wood are you chopping? 2) Why were you chopping wood?
Well, I do live in a "city," but there is some land around her that hasnt been turned into strip malls yet. Admittedly, it is very little, but there is some. There happens to be a strip between where I live and where my friend Chris moved to. So, as I was walking over to his apartment to get my shovel (I had left it there on accident...I need it for my stream research), I was in a wooded area with trees. He has made a trail, but there are many downed or almost downed trees near the trail that would function much better chopped up and used as trail borders. So, I was chopping some of them up.
Why I was wanting to and thus going through with the chopping of the miscelanous trees in the first place is pretty simple. Men's Health said that few activities are more beneficial and demanding than chopping wood. It takes coordination and strength in almost all parts of the body. The arms, shoulders, abs, and back are particularly used alot. So, yes, I am advocating that all of you go out and by axes and chop wood.
So, as I was saying, while I was chopping the wood, I thought to myself that few things in life make me feel more manly than cutting wood with such a low-tech method as an ax. I feel connected with my frontier forefathers. I feel like I could say hello if I ever walked past a real lumberjack. I feel like a small part of me becomes cleansed, as I bleed out of my left hand (puncture wound from moving a tree). I feel confident that should a woman ever decide to date me in the future, I can uphold my gender role in the relationship. Me and my ax.
As I walked back to my apartment carrying my ax (and now shovel), it occurred to me that I was quite the interesitng site. Its not often you see a guy carrying these two items in our limits. It occurred to me that I must look like someone out of a tv crime drama, coming out of the woods with an ax and a shovel.
I wondered if the people I passed on the greenway and in the apartment complex saw me as maybe some serial killer. I doubted that any of them saw me as just a guy, a guy who maybe likes to chop wood and dig holes. I wonder if this is just in my head, or has society really made it so that a simple man doing simple things is too bizarre, and thus must have something wrong with him (in everyone else's eyes).
No matter really. For to me, using a shovel, or an ax, or a hammer, reminds me of my childhood. A strange peace comes over me. I feel at home.
In less abstract/ emotional/ metaphysical news, I also did some orienteering today. Picture a timed event where you are given a map and told to find as many points as you can as quick as you can....in the woods. Its basically treasure hunting for adults...and its awesome. Google a local club and try it out. Tons of fun.
Be Great
DAlen
I know what youre thinking. Two questions. 1) dont you live in the city? what wood are you chopping? 2) Why were you chopping wood?
Well, I do live in a "city," but there is some land around her that hasnt been turned into strip malls yet. Admittedly, it is very little, but there is some. There happens to be a strip between where I live and where my friend Chris moved to. So, as I was walking over to his apartment to get my shovel (I had left it there on accident...I need it for my stream research), I was in a wooded area with trees. He has made a trail, but there are many downed or almost downed trees near the trail that would function much better chopped up and used as trail borders. So, I was chopping some of them up.
Why I was wanting to and thus going through with the chopping of the miscelanous trees in the first place is pretty simple. Men's Health said that few activities are more beneficial and demanding than chopping wood. It takes coordination and strength in almost all parts of the body. The arms, shoulders, abs, and back are particularly used alot. So, yes, I am advocating that all of you go out and by axes and chop wood.
So, as I was saying, while I was chopping the wood, I thought to myself that few things in life make me feel more manly than cutting wood with such a low-tech method as an ax. I feel connected with my frontier forefathers. I feel like I could say hello if I ever walked past a real lumberjack. I feel like a small part of me becomes cleansed, as I bleed out of my left hand (puncture wound from moving a tree). I feel confident that should a woman ever decide to date me in the future, I can uphold my gender role in the relationship. Me and my ax.
As I walked back to my apartment carrying my ax (and now shovel), it occurred to me that I was quite the interesitng site. Its not often you see a guy carrying these two items in our limits. It occurred to me that I must look like someone out of a tv crime drama, coming out of the woods with an ax and a shovel.
I wondered if the people I passed on the greenway and in the apartment complex saw me as maybe some serial killer. I doubted that any of them saw me as just a guy, a guy who maybe likes to chop wood and dig holes. I wonder if this is just in my head, or has society really made it so that a simple man doing simple things is too bizarre, and thus must have something wrong with him (in everyone else's eyes).
No matter really. For to me, using a shovel, or an ax, or a hammer, reminds me of my childhood. A strange peace comes over me. I feel at home.
In less abstract/ emotional/ metaphysical news, I also did some orienteering today. Picture a timed event where you are given a map and told to find as many points as you can as quick as you can....in the woods. Its basically treasure hunting for adults...and its awesome. Google a local club and try it out. Tons of fun.
Be Great
DAlen
Monday, August 17, 2009
New Bike, New Life
So some of you may have heard that a while back, both of my bikes had been stolen. I owned a mountain bike and a road bike, and they both were lifted from my porch on the first floor in what I thought was a zero-crime area. I was wrong. I posted a stolen bike listing on Craigslist, and sure enough my red Trek road bike had been broken and abandoned, between a Jack-and-the-Box and a Tire Kingdom. By the time I went to find it, the lawn service had cut the grass and it was gone. So close, yet so far away. So, I moved on with my life.
Last week, I was running on the greenway, which I have taken to doing much lately. I have a tendency to always look closely at bikes, hoping and thinking that I will see mine. Sure enough, a Red Trek Road Bike passed me slowly while I was jogging. Were those Shimano clipless pedals? Was that a new blue seat? Had the reflectors been removed? HOLY CRAP! it was my bike! I jogged faster, but he still pulled away. He had on headphones and I had on headphones. I couldn't think what to yell. Luckily, he was coming to the end of the greenway, so he had to turn around.
I stopped him on the way past the 2nd time. I looked closer, asked him where he got it, and found out he bought it from a pawn shop. His friend, who worked at Jack-and-the-box, found it behind the dumpster and then fixed it and pawned it. His name was Joe. Joe was a an Iraq veteran, having been sent home after and IED sent shards of metal towards him and almost cut his leg off. He paid way too much for the bike, but had bought it nonetheless. He rides it everyday, and the oversize shoes that go with the pedals fit him. Sort of happy ending at that point. Joe is a good guy...just stuck in an odd situation.
So, later in the week, as I am running the doberman with infinite energy I am thinking about how much I want to do triathlons. I figure I could run to a friends house, borrow her bike, ride, and then run home for practice. Next thing you know, I am walking down a hill behind where we live and I find a Fuji Opus III bike, with a few missing parts and some maintenance required! HOW AWESOME IS THAT!? I definitely feel like I am able to make life change to my benefit if I just think about stuff enough and concentrate on the good. My Karma 401k must be doing pretty dang good.
Last week, I was running on the greenway, which I have taken to doing much lately. I have a tendency to always look closely at bikes, hoping and thinking that I will see mine. Sure enough, a Red Trek Road Bike passed me slowly while I was jogging. Were those Shimano clipless pedals? Was that a new blue seat? Had the reflectors been removed? HOLY CRAP! it was my bike! I jogged faster, but he still pulled away. He had on headphones and I had on headphones. I couldn't think what to yell. Luckily, he was coming to the end of the greenway, so he had to turn around.
I stopped him on the way past the 2nd time. I looked closer, asked him where he got it, and found out he bought it from a pawn shop. His friend, who worked at Jack-and-the-box, found it behind the dumpster and then fixed it and pawned it. His name was Joe. Joe was a an Iraq veteran, having been sent home after and IED sent shards of metal towards him and almost cut his leg off. He paid way too much for the bike, but had bought it nonetheless. He rides it everyday, and the oversize shoes that go with the pedals fit him. Sort of happy ending at that point. Joe is a good guy...just stuck in an odd situation.
So, later in the week, as I am running the doberman with infinite energy I am thinking about how much I want to do triathlons. I figure I could run to a friends house, borrow her bike, ride, and then run home for practice. Next thing you know, I am walking down a hill behind where we live and I find a Fuji Opus III bike, with a few missing parts and some maintenance required! HOW AWESOME IS THAT!? I definitely feel like I am able to make life change to my benefit if I just think about stuff enough and concentrate on the good. My Karma 401k must be doing pretty dang good.
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Day 3- not as much to do
After a day of non-stop EKGs, blood samples, vital sign taking, and the occasional urin sample, Day 3 was pretty dull. We has one more set of tests, one in the afternoon, and one in the evening.
At some point after lunch but before dinner, I realized that we were really only recieving a single dose of the medication. All of this trouble was being taken over a single, 100 mg dose. So, i wondered how bad could the worse case even have been? There were no side effects that I could see, but the dose was so small. How much arsenic can you eat before its really toxic?
After sleeping most of the day, getting a little bit of school work done, and eating, the night came and I found two movies I wanted to watch. It started with The Transporter 2 and ended with Live Free of Die Hard. It was quite the action packed evening of mind-numbing fake explosions. Then, it was time to go to sleep, only this time it was in a bed and not the examination recliners.
I can remember being so very excited about release day. I can only imagine what prisoners must feel like after spending significant time behind bars.
At some point after lunch but before dinner, I realized that we were really only recieving a single dose of the medication. All of this trouble was being taken over a single, 100 mg dose. So, i wondered how bad could the worse case even have been? There were no side effects that I could see, but the dose was so small. How much arsenic can you eat before its really toxic?
After sleeping most of the day, getting a little bit of school work done, and eating, the night came and I found two movies I wanted to watch. It started with The Transporter 2 and ended with Live Free of Die Hard. It was quite the action packed evening of mind-numbing fake explosions. Then, it was time to go to sleep, only this time it was in a bed and not the examination recliners.
I can remember being so very excited about release day. I can only imagine what prisoners must feel like after spending significant time behind bars.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Day 2- What do you call...
What do you call a creature with 8 metal nipples and more than holes in its left inner elbow? My friends call me Dalen.
This morning we woke up at the bright hour of 6:30. I am not quite sure why the woke us up so early. We weren't allowed to eat breakfast. We pretty much just relocated to the special room where they take blood and vital signs and EKG data, and then we all went back to sleep. That dang room is crazy cold too. Around 7:30 they started the tests.
At exactly 8:35, Patient # 208 received experimental medication. It may have been placebo or it may have been super memory drug. I probably will never know.
There still seems to be drama over I don't know what. The nurses whisper in hushed tones here and there.
Everyone is still confused when they do my heart rate, although now it seems the machines have begun to register it.
The guy next to me (Patient # 209) ate breakfast before he was dosed. His schedule said to do that and he was supplied food and told to eat it. Then, he found out he wasn't supposed to eat before being dosed (the rest of us had to wait 2 hours after dosing....breakfast at 10 am when you wake up at 6:30 is really not an enjoyable experience). So, they brought in an alternate and sent him home (meaning they put him outside....his ride is part of the trial, and thus has to stay). We then began continuously joking about being kicked out of the trial for making even the slightest mistake (I would compare these people to Nazi's, but that humor is a little too close to home so to speak).
Lurch was good. Baked Ziti and Chicken. Waiting now for dinner and more blood to be drawn.
Likes: access to pool table, ping pong table, flat screen TVs, heat from from the laptop
Dislikes: peeing in a jug for diagnostic purposes, needle sticks every hour, frigid climate control with no sweatshirt
This morning we woke up at the bright hour of 6:30. I am not quite sure why the woke us up so early. We weren't allowed to eat breakfast. We pretty much just relocated to the special room where they take blood and vital signs and EKG data, and then we all went back to sleep. That dang room is crazy cold too. Around 7:30 they started the tests.
At exactly 8:35, Patient # 208 received experimental medication. It may have been placebo or it may have been super memory drug. I probably will never know.
There still seems to be drama over I don't know what. The nurses whisper in hushed tones here and there.
Everyone is still confused when they do my heart rate, although now it seems the machines have begun to register it.
The guy next to me (Patient # 209) ate breakfast before he was dosed. His schedule said to do that and he was supplied food and told to eat it. Then, he found out he wasn't supposed to eat before being dosed (the rest of us had to wait 2 hours after dosing....breakfast at 10 am when you wake up at 6:30 is really not an enjoyable experience). So, they brought in an alternate and sent him home (meaning they put him outside....his ride is part of the trial, and thus has to stay). We then began continuously joking about being kicked out of the trial for making even the slightest mistake (I would compare these people to Nazi's, but that humor is a little too close to home so to speak).
Lurch was good. Baked Ziti and Chicken. Waiting now for dinner and more blood to be drawn.
Likes: access to pool table, ping pong table, flat screen TVs, heat from from the laptop
Dislikes: peeing in a jug for diagnostic purposes, needle sticks every hour, frigid climate control with no sweatshirt
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Day 1- ending
It is definately a mixture of low security prison, mental hospital, and self-admitted rehab (Authors Note: I havent experienced any of these in person, but from what I have seen in the movies, which i believe to be true, it is very similar here). I spent a lare portion of time (i.e. more than 20 minutes) looking out a window today. I spent much of the other time reading, eating, and sleeping. Its life as simple as AmeriCorps, but it pays more, but it is less fulfilling and we arent allowed to exercise.
Apparently, my EKG stickers were not in the correct places, so they had to tear some of them from my chest (they are crazy sticky!) and I believe they took with them some skin, some chest hair, and maybe even a little bit of my soul. It hurt. Then they reapplied them, hopefully correctly now.
I havent taken any medication yet. We get dosed tomorrow apparently. They have been feeding us pretty well, but in single sittings. Tomorrow, our meals will be exactly spaced. We dont get to snack or eat meals between meals, so i take longer and make sure to eat all the food given to me. Without exercise though, it just makes me lethargic. We'll see how much longer I have an appettite without exercise. Maybe I will do some pushups when nobody is looking.
There seems to be quite the social drama group working here. Since I have a tendancy to sit in the corner and read, I am able to be a fly on the wall and listen as the women gossip and talk about who isnt doing what because they have no clue how to do their job, and if they are not carefull the good Dr. will let them go. Apparently, the boss around here is quite the stickler for doiug things by procedure. this makes sense to me though, since we are getting huge checks given to each of us to test a drug with tons of market opportunity. I can imagine that whoever hired this facility out to run this test has quite the bankroll.
Lights out at 11 pm....which means we actually are forced to go to sleep. A guy sitting next to me remarked how camp-like this place is. Dosing for me is at 8:35 am, so off to lay in bed.
Patient WDR #208
Apparently, my EKG stickers were not in the correct places, so they had to tear some of them from my chest (they are crazy sticky!) and I believe they took with them some skin, some chest hair, and maybe even a little bit of my soul. It hurt. Then they reapplied them, hopefully correctly now.
I havent taken any medication yet. We get dosed tomorrow apparently. They have been feeding us pretty well, but in single sittings. Tomorrow, our meals will be exactly spaced. We dont get to snack or eat meals between meals, so i take longer and make sure to eat all the food given to me. Without exercise though, it just makes me lethargic. We'll see how much longer I have an appettite without exercise. Maybe I will do some pushups when nobody is looking.
There seems to be quite the social drama group working here. Since I have a tendancy to sit in the corner and read, I am able to be a fly on the wall and listen as the women gossip and talk about who isnt doing what because they have no clue how to do their job, and if they are not carefull the good Dr. will let them go. Apparently, the boss around here is quite the stickler for doiug things by procedure. this makes sense to me though, since we are getting huge checks given to each of us to test a drug with tons of market opportunity. I can imagine that whoever hired this facility out to run this test has quite the bankroll.
Lights out at 11 pm....which means we actually are forced to go to sleep. A guy sitting next to me remarked how camp-like this place is. Dosing for me is at 8:35 am, so off to lay in bed.
Patient WDR #208
CommentResponses
Response to comments:
Eric:
I agree wholeheartedly with your logic. The environment is always going to be a "rich people's" problem...that is until the poor people realize that they are the ones who will suffer the most from envrionmental degradation.Even then though, the rich are the only ones with the resources to undo the damage. I think its a sort of catch-22problem.
Steve:
GOLF courses Steve, not GOLD courses. You know, that makes me wonder...if the golf balls were made of gold, would peoplestill leave them in the streams?
Also, Rupert Murdock wants to buy my blog and soul...i can only assume its because of the Bartunek Bump.
Molly:
Stream cleanup along the trailer park would be small beans. The water flow is so low there. It would be much better to do it further down, where garbage collects. And the scale of a cleanup would be gargantuan...i am trying to get an NCCC team to work on something like this.
Eric:
I agree wholeheartedly with your logic. The environment is always going to be a "rich people's" problem...that is until the poor people realize that they are the ones who will suffer the most from envrionmental degradation.Even then though, the rich are the only ones with the resources to undo the damage. I think its a sort of catch-22problem.
Steve:
GOLF courses Steve, not GOLD courses. You know, that makes me wonder...if the golf balls were made of gold, would peoplestill leave them in the streams?
Also, Rupert Murdock wants to buy my blog and soul...i can only assume its because of the Bartunek Bump.
Molly:
Stream cleanup along the trailer park would be small beans. The water flow is so low there. It would be much better to do it further down, where garbage collects. And the scale of a cleanup would be gargantuan...i am trying to get an NCCC team to work on something like this.
Day 1- Locked up for 3 days
They made it clear that once we entered the facility, there was no going back. Anything we left in our lockers would be out of our reaches for 3 days. I kind of feel like a scientist going into the biosphere.
In case I haven't told you, I found a medical study to participate in. The money is really good and the study is for an Alzheimer's medication. The ad was on the back of a Creative Loafing, right near the add for "Smoke Pot, Get Paid." I am hoping that since the medicine is for Alzheimer's, and my memory is fine, i will end up with a super-memory.
I came in this morning at 9 am, having fasted since 10 pm (yes, i had to skip what would normally be 2nd dinner). Then, we had to get all our tests done, so it wasn't until 11am that i was able to eat breakfast. Exactly two eggs, two pieces of bacon, strawberries with whip cream, and a glass of OJ later, I felt better. As I write this, I smile at the EKG sticky patches that spot my wrists, ankles, and chest. I feel like I could be hooked to the Matrix. We are supposed to leave them on the entire time we are here. I also have an ID bracelet (in case i escape and get picked up) and a bracelet with a combination on it, to my locker, in case they find my body and want to get into the combination lock that was issued to me.
The EKG thought my heart rate was sub-50 BPM, which is crazy low. The nurse asked me if I was a triathlete, but i heard her ask if I was a superhero. So, I said, "not yet."
Lunch has arrived from the outside world. I sort of feel like I am in prison, but a really nice prison. We all are wearing the same maroon scrubs and we are sleeping in a large room. Its like adult penitentiary camp....but we get paid!
More later. Tell all your friends.
In case I haven't told you, I found a medical study to participate in. The money is really good and the study is for an Alzheimer's medication. The ad was on the back of a Creative Loafing, right near the add for "Smoke Pot, Get Paid." I am hoping that since the medicine is for Alzheimer's, and my memory is fine, i will end up with a super-memory.
I came in this morning at 9 am, having fasted since 10 pm (yes, i had to skip what would normally be 2nd dinner). Then, we had to get all our tests done, so it wasn't until 11am that i was able to eat breakfast. Exactly two eggs, two pieces of bacon, strawberries with whip cream, and a glass of OJ later, I felt better. As I write this, I smile at the EKG sticky patches that spot my wrists, ankles, and chest. I feel like I could be hooked to the Matrix. We are supposed to leave them on the entire time we are here. I also have an ID bracelet (in case i escape and get picked up) and a bracelet with a combination on it, to my locker, in case they find my body and want to get into the combination lock that was issued to me.
The EKG thought my heart rate was sub-50 BPM, which is crazy low. The nurse asked me if I was a triathlete, but i heard her ask if I was a superhero. So, I said, "not yet."
Lunch has arrived from the outside world. I sort of feel like I am in prison, but a really nice prison. We all are wearing the same maroon scrubs and we are sleeping in a large room. Its like adult penitentiary camp....but we get paid!
More later. Tell all your friends.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Living Rocks, trailor parks, and damn golf balls
Thanks to Eric and Reagan for the comments.
I once knew a guy named Steve Barta..Barte...Bar-tune-ack. He was a heck of a guy that Steve. Top 3 of all the Steve's I know, easy.
So, last week, I was walking in Rocky River. I went to a place where I know there is a dam and proceeded to look at the dirt upstream and downstream of the dam. Eventually, I will compare the streams and locations where dams existed to the streams and locations where dams didn't exist.
One thing I have noticed in both kinds of streams is that wherever there is a large power line crossing the stream, all the trees have been removed. Since much of the streams are under forest canopy, it is like coming out of a shaded tunnel and then going back into one. Often, near power lines, a bunch of rocks have been put on the banks to keep erosion from happening. then, those rocks fall into the creek and then moss and slime grow on them, making it very treacherous to walk under the power lines where the sun reaches the stream.
I was coming up to one of these open expanses a couple week back when I noticed a rock sticking up out of the creek. It wasn't so bizarre (i do see occasional rocks), but it was odd since it was all alone and in the middle. Generally, there will be some geologic formation and a bunch of rocks will be present. This time there was just one. It seemed very smooth also. My vision is getting bad, so I dismissed the fact that it also appears to be suspended just above the water by two sticks. As I got closer I looked harder and still saw a smooth, gray rock, suspended above the water by about 2 inches by two sticks. Finally, I got within 10 yards and realized I was staring at a giant crane, sitting in the middle of the stream, with no head. I could make out the feathers on its back and the two sticks were actually legs. Still, no head though. It was ultra creepy. I gave it plenty of space in case "the crane from sleepy hollow" decided to move towards me. then, its head appeared, unburied from its body, where it had been resting while the crane was sleeping. It looked over at me, with very menacing eyes and a long, spear-like nose. I find it peculiar that many birds (Owls, Hawks, Cranes) look really cool from far off, but then when you get close you realize that they are very efficient killing machines and they no doubt would enjoy eating my eyes. I gave the crane more space and walked past it. It eyes me and then went back to sleep.
So, I assumed it was sick. I walked downstream awhile, came to a bend in the stream that was more than 6' deep, and turned around. As I re-approached the grim reaper-esque bird, it awoke, put its mouth in the water, ate a fish, and then went back to sleep, clearly not afraid of me. It was bizarre and I have no doubt that I will never get this close to a bird of such size again.
I grew up near a trailer park and had many friends that lived there. So, I don't like to think that people in trailers are any more abnormal than the next people. There are lots of stereotypes and general negative feelings about trailer park peoples. Unfortunately, I think I now have a small bit more loathing for them, having walked the section of Toby Creek adjacent to a trailer park. there was much garbage. there were many bicycles. there were many kids toys made of plastic. There were occasional TVs, washer machines, and parts of building...all in the stream. If I could have my way, I would make it law that trailer parks have to be at least a quarter mile away from streams.
....and gold courses too dammit. I have found golf balls the entire length of mallard creek. They come from the golf course i live on and I am wondering if they cant be held liable for the pollution. I hate to see golf balls in the creek. Its just one more blatant sign that we as a large group of people don't care about the natural world around us. We would rather do some hobby that leads to pollution than to find another hobby or even another way to do said hobby without causing pollution.
Our streams will never be clean again until we decide we value them more than the parking lots (and their run-off) that destroy them.
I once knew a guy named Steve Barta..Barte...Bar-tune-ack. He was a heck of a guy that Steve. Top 3 of all the Steve's I know, easy.
So, last week, I was walking in Rocky River. I went to a place where I know there is a dam and proceeded to look at the dirt upstream and downstream of the dam. Eventually, I will compare the streams and locations where dams existed to the streams and locations where dams didn't exist.
One thing I have noticed in both kinds of streams is that wherever there is a large power line crossing the stream, all the trees have been removed. Since much of the streams are under forest canopy, it is like coming out of a shaded tunnel and then going back into one. Often, near power lines, a bunch of rocks have been put on the banks to keep erosion from happening. then, those rocks fall into the creek and then moss and slime grow on them, making it very treacherous to walk under the power lines where the sun reaches the stream.
I was coming up to one of these open expanses a couple week back when I noticed a rock sticking up out of the creek. It wasn't so bizarre (i do see occasional rocks), but it was odd since it was all alone and in the middle. Generally, there will be some geologic formation and a bunch of rocks will be present. This time there was just one. It seemed very smooth also. My vision is getting bad, so I dismissed the fact that it also appears to be suspended just above the water by two sticks. As I got closer I looked harder and still saw a smooth, gray rock, suspended above the water by about 2 inches by two sticks. Finally, I got within 10 yards and realized I was staring at a giant crane, sitting in the middle of the stream, with no head. I could make out the feathers on its back and the two sticks were actually legs. Still, no head though. It was ultra creepy. I gave it plenty of space in case "the crane from sleepy hollow" decided to move towards me. then, its head appeared, unburied from its body, where it had been resting while the crane was sleeping. It looked over at me, with very menacing eyes and a long, spear-like nose. I find it peculiar that many birds (Owls, Hawks, Cranes) look really cool from far off, but then when you get close you realize that they are very efficient killing machines and they no doubt would enjoy eating my eyes. I gave the crane more space and walked past it. It eyes me and then went back to sleep.
So, I assumed it was sick. I walked downstream awhile, came to a bend in the stream that was more than 6' deep, and turned around. As I re-approached the grim reaper-esque bird, it awoke, put its mouth in the water, ate a fish, and then went back to sleep, clearly not afraid of me. It was bizarre and I have no doubt that I will never get this close to a bird of such size again.
I grew up near a trailer park and had many friends that lived there. So, I don't like to think that people in trailers are any more abnormal than the next people. There are lots of stereotypes and general negative feelings about trailer park peoples. Unfortunately, I think I now have a small bit more loathing for them, having walked the section of Toby Creek adjacent to a trailer park. there was much garbage. there were many bicycles. there were many kids toys made of plastic. There were occasional TVs, washer machines, and parts of building...all in the stream. If I could have my way, I would make it law that trailer parks have to be at least a quarter mile away from streams.
....and gold courses too dammit. I have found golf balls the entire length of mallard creek. They come from the golf course i live on and I am wondering if they cant be held liable for the pollution. I hate to see golf balls in the creek. Its just one more blatant sign that we as a large group of people don't care about the natural world around us. We would rather do some hobby that leads to pollution than to find another hobby or even another way to do said hobby without causing pollution.
Our streams will never be clean again until we decide we value them more than the parking lots (and their run-off) that destroy them.
More tales from the streams
Save the forest?
Last week I was walking in Mallard Creek, which seems to go forever. At one particular place, I came to a part of the creek that has canyon like walls of 30' or more in height. For the most part, the banks of Mallard Creek are usually less than 15', so this was yet another twilight zone like moment (its peculiar how lots of instances become infinitely more creepy when youre alone in a creek bed or walking under a major road or interstate via long dark tunnel...I am very surprised, and happy, to not have found any bodies yet). The waterflow became a trickle as it came down over large rocks (i always walk UPstream), so I began to rock hop up the stream with my shovel and ultra-dexterity-suppressing waders. I saw a couple kids on the bank hanging out, but I didnt stop to talk or really take notice. I figured that I looked quite odd and didnt want to explain what I was doing anyway (although, I have a simplified thesis explanation of "walking in streams and looking at dirt in cutbanks" that only requires me to define one term). Eventually, I noticed, the kids seemed to be following me upstream. I couldnt tell if they were just walking upstream or trying to catch me. Anyway, with waders, I neednt worry about being in the water or out, so I was able to move faster than them. Eventually though, they got within earshot when I was looking at an exposure and they asked me what I was up to. More specifically, they asked me if I was with the forest service and if I was trying to "save the forest." they asked if I had a petition. They then were disappointed to find out I was just a grad student...especially since, as they told me, they would totally sign a petition if I had one. I guess the shovel/waders/clipboard really does give me instant credibility amongst hippie kids playing in streams. Wait a second...that used to be me. Crap. I have grown into a hippie kid, studying to work in streams. I told them to make sure they washed their feet when they got home (they were barefoot) because the water no doubt contained all kinds of bad stuff. They didnt like this last piece of adult-ish advice as they left me and they didnt respond.
Stay tuned for my next story about a rock that comes to life!
DAlen
Last week I was walking in Mallard Creek, which seems to go forever. At one particular place, I came to a part of the creek that has canyon like walls of 30' or more in height. For the most part, the banks of Mallard Creek are usually less than 15', so this was yet another twilight zone like moment (its peculiar how lots of instances become infinitely more creepy when youre alone in a creek bed or walking under a major road or interstate via long dark tunnel...I am very surprised, and happy, to not have found any bodies yet). The waterflow became a trickle as it came down over large rocks (i always walk UPstream), so I began to rock hop up the stream with my shovel and ultra-dexterity-suppressing waders. I saw a couple kids on the bank hanging out, but I didnt stop to talk or really take notice. I figured that I looked quite odd and didnt want to explain what I was doing anyway (although, I have a simplified thesis explanation of "walking in streams and looking at dirt in cutbanks" that only requires me to define one term). Eventually, I noticed, the kids seemed to be following me upstream. I couldnt tell if they were just walking upstream or trying to catch me. Anyway, with waders, I neednt worry about being in the water or out, so I was able to move faster than them. Eventually though, they got within earshot when I was looking at an exposure and they asked me what I was up to. More specifically, they asked me if I was with the forest service and if I was trying to "save the forest." they asked if I had a petition. They then were disappointed to find out I was just a grad student...especially since, as they told me, they would totally sign a petition if I had one. I guess the shovel/waders/clipboard really does give me instant credibility amongst hippie kids playing in streams. Wait a second...that used to be me. Crap. I have grown into a hippie kid, studying to work in streams. I told them to make sure they washed their feet when they got home (they were barefoot) because the water no doubt contained all kinds of bad stuff. They didnt like this last piece of adult-ish advice as they left me and they didnt respond.
Stay tuned for my next story about a rock that comes to life!
DAlen
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Day 7
Picture me walking down a fairly busy, 4 lane boulavard on a sunday afternoon carrying a backpack with a pair of waders (picture a backpack with a pair of rubber legged boots) and holding a shovel in one hand. That is how the story ends.
In case youre wondering why I would walk 2+ miles in a creek, I will fill you in. Its graduate research. I am looking at sediment deposits in floodplains in the banks of the city streams to find clues or remnants of previous dam existance. In other words, I walk in the creeks and look at the dirt.
So, after being told not to come into work, and after bailing on the special father's day church service, I decided to seize the opportunity to finish walking a stretch of creek that actually flows through my school. I was excited to finally see what is looks like for a creek to "begin." Maybe that really does make me an earth sciences weirdo...the excitement of seeing what we in the industry call "headwaters." (In turns out the creek basically starts under some grassy field in a trailer park....very much a let down).
I parked my car at the Target and walked to the tunnel where I knew the creek came from under the large road. The other day, I had stopped walking at this tunnel, on the other side. It has to be 1/5 mile long and ultra-creepy due to the darkness. I was on the other side now though, and walking away.
I walked a little over a mile and thought I was doing well. I had seen some interesting bank exposures. Unfortunately, I also had come to some major log jams. finally, I reached one that I was not willing to try and climb through. All the debris makes for great snake and critter homes, not to mention winged stinging creature habitats. So, I pawed my way up one of the steep banks to see a well manicured, clearing in a wooded area. It was quite peculiar. There were no houses or roads nearby...just this obviously cut grassy clearing. then I saw a ladder up a tree and realized I was in an area meant for shooting deer. I quickly moved back to the creek and down into it on the other side of the log jam.
Walking in a steep banked creek (with banks 10+ ft tall) is like having blinders on. all you can see is where you came from and where you are going. Everything happening above the bank you cant see. Where you are really is all a mystery.
Eventually, i got to a point where there was lots of rust in the water. Then I came to a place where I saw the rust flowing in the water. then I walked further up the creek and found the water was clean appearing. I found places where there were lots of fish and no debris and no garbage. It made me happy. Then I came to a place that bordered a trailor park. Then I found bicycles, baby toys, random large appliances, and pieces of buildings in the creek. It saddened me. Then I found dogs on the not so tall banks anymore and they barked at me. People in trailor homes shouldnt be allowed to live near streams.
then I came to a large split, and the stream banks went from being 6 ft wide to being shoulder width. So, I got out and found a barbed wire fence to go through into the trailor park.
the sign on the fence (as I looked from the woods towards the trailers) said no trespassing. I wondered who it was meant to keep out. Maybe it was meant to keep the literate deer from leaving the nice forest and going into trailer park to cause problems.
Walking out of the trailer park, I found myself lost...a little. Then I found myself, somehow about 5 miles from my car. I walked about 2.5 miles in the stream and ended up 5 miles from my car. That, my friends, is magic.
In case youre wondering why I would walk 2+ miles in a creek, I will fill you in. Its graduate research. I am looking at sediment deposits in floodplains in the banks of the city streams to find clues or remnants of previous dam existance. In other words, I walk in the creeks and look at the dirt.
So, after being told not to come into work, and after bailing on the special father's day church service, I decided to seize the opportunity to finish walking a stretch of creek that actually flows through my school. I was excited to finally see what is looks like for a creek to "begin." Maybe that really does make me an earth sciences weirdo...the excitement of seeing what we in the industry call "headwaters." (In turns out the creek basically starts under some grassy field in a trailer park....very much a let down).
I parked my car at the Target and walked to the tunnel where I knew the creek came from under the large road. The other day, I had stopped walking at this tunnel, on the other side. It has to be 1/5 mile long and ultra-creepy due to the darkness. I was on the other side now though, and walking away.
I walked a little over a mile and thought I was doing well. I had seen some interesting bank exposures. Unfortunately, I also had come to some major log jams. finally, I reached one that I was not willing to try and climb through. All the debris makes for great snake and critter homes, not to mention winged stinging creature habitats. So, I pawed my way up one of the steep banks to see a well manicured, clearing in a wooded area. It was quite peculiar. There were no houses or roads nearby...just this obviously cut grassy clearing. then I saw a ladder up a tree and realized I was in an area meant for shooting deer. I quickly moved back to the creek and down into it on the other side of the log jam.
Walking in a steep banked creek (with banks 10+ ft tall) is like having blinders on. all you can see is where you came from and where you are going. Everything happening above the bank you cant see. Where you are really is all a mystery.
Eventually, i got to a point where there was lots of rust in the water. Then I came to a place where I saw the rust flowing in the water. then I walked further up the creek and found the water was clean appearing. I found places where there were lots of fish and no debris and no garbage. It made me happy. Then I came to a place that bordered a trailor park. Then I found bicycles, baby toys, random large appliances, and pieces of buildings in the creek. It saddened me. Then I found dogs on the not so tall banks anymore and they barked at me. People in trailor homes shouldnt be allowed to live near streams.
then I came to a large split, and the stream banks went from being 6 ft wide to being shoulder width. So, I got out and found a barbed wire fence to go through into the trailor park.
the sign on the fence (as I looked from the woods towards the trailers) said no trespassing. I wondered who it was meant to keep out. Maybe it was meant to keep the literate deer from leaving the nice forest and going into trailer park to cause problems.
Walking out of the trailer park, I found myself lost...a little. Then I found myself, somehow about 5 miles from my car. I walked about 2.5 miles in the stream and ended up 5 miles from my car. That, my friends, is magic.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Its been too long...
My apologies. It has been a long time since I last wrote. This can be blamed on...
1) the two weeks of non-stop racing action at Lowes Motor Speedway- I got a job at their resteraunt, so I worked really long days for the last weeks of May. On the brightside, I made tons more money than I originally expected (picture me wearing a tie made out of hundred dollar bills)
2) the one week on the AT- well, it was actually more like a few days. I was trying to connect with a friend who is hiking...she has been going since March and plans to hike the whole thing, ending up in Maine in September. We say a giant timber rattlesnake right on the trail. I have never seen one so, I was especially excited (I wanted to catch it, but the logical female in our party kept us safe...BORRRING). The 2nd day, I almost stepped on another rattler while picking "toilet paper." We also survived a huge thunderstorm, which was pretty cool.
3) the interspersed days of doing graduate research- I am walking in streams. Its hot work and gets a little miserable when my waders leak...which is almost always. There are lots of snakes and critters around too. I am also not completely sure that what I am doing is correct, but I am going to keep doing it (as my advisor suggested) until she gets back in July.
4) filling in any remaining time with Muah Thai and Jiu-Jitsu- I might try and compete in the NAGA Charlotte event next month. My class would be beginner and weight class will ideally be 139.9 lbs. We'll see.
Otherwise...nothing new. Living on the trucker friend's living room floor. He has a pseudo-girlfriend now....which is crazy weird. I didnt think he liked girls...not that he is gay, he seems to dislike everyone equally.
1) the two weeks of non-stop racing action at Lowes Motor Speedway- I got a job at their resteraunt, so I worked really long days for the last weeks of May. On the brightside, I made tons more money than I originally expected (picture me wearing a tie made out of hundred dollar bills)
2) the one week on the AT- well, it was actually more like a few days. I was trying to connect with a friend who is hiking...she has been going since March and plans to hike the whole thing, ending up in Maine in September. We say a giant timber rattlesnake right on the trail. I have never seen one so, I was especially excited (I wanted to catch it, but the logical female in our party kept us safe...BORRRING). The 2nd day, I almost stepped on another rattler while picking "toilet paper." We also survived a huge thunderstorm, which was pretty cool.
3) the interspersed days of doing graduate research- I am walking in streams. Its hot work and gets a little miserable when my waders leak...which is almost always. There are lots of snakes and critters around too. I am also not completely sure that what I am doing is correct, but I am going to keep doing it (as my advisor suggested) until she gets back in July.
4) filling in any remaining time with Muah Thai and Jiu-Jitsu- I might try and compete in the NAGA Charlotte event next month. My class would be beginner and weight class will ideally be 139.9 lbs. We'll see.
Otherwise...nothing new. Living on the trucker friend's living room floor. He has a pseudo-girlfriend now....which is crazy weird. I didnt think he liked girls...not that he is gay, he seems to dislike everyone equally.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Are we a product of our...
Are we products of our habits?
Do we live our lives habitually? Is there some point- when we get the job that we want, the mate that we want, the house that we want- where we stop thinking about what is going on and we just "do" without having to think? Can we turn into automated humans even before we get to the place that is our goal?
How often do you think about what you're doing and why you're doing it? For example, I go to the bathroom regularly, just as anyone else might. Just like anyone else, once I step through the doorway I turn on the lights. Why? Is it because I need light? No. During the day the window gives more than enough light to read by, or do anything else that i might be doing. Actually, at night I intentionally don't turn on the light because it hurts my eyes, so in actuality I never NEED the light. The amount of extra light I would have in the daytime is negligible. So, why do I turn the light on? Because I have been doing it for over 20 years. So, what if I don't turn the light on? Will that change things? No. Its not about turning the light on or off every time. Its about thinking about what is going on around me, deciding if I need the light, and then making conscious, in the moment decisions about my actions. What would happen if this became the norm instead of habitual action? I would become less of a machine, less of a creature acting on impulses programmed into head by years of repetition.
Are we products of our emotions?
Two days ago I was a victim of theft. My bikes were stolen. Given the option, I would have inflicted bodily harm on the people who did this. I have thought a great deal about this. Something inside me, deep down inside, makes me want to hurt them. I feel anger and revulsion towards these two people I don't even know, and I want to harm them. Some describe this as "seeing red." As I experience this feeling, I wonder to myself what then is the difference between me and a predator given the option to kill prey. They too do not think about peripheral circumstances and have only one purpose, one feeling. They want to hurt something else.
Although I am not terribly upset at the loss of my bikes, the premise still angers me. And yet, as a Christian, I wonder how to conquer or rise above my base feeling. I wonder if I do indeed ever come across my bikes, with someone else on them, what will I do? Will I be overcome by anger and lash out? Or can I not be a product of this dangerous emotion?
I am thinking a lot about the bikes, and since I have the power to think about people in order to come across them, I think i might see my bikes again. So, time will tell the answers to my questions....
Do we live our lives habitually? Is there some point- when we get the job that we want, the mate that we want, the house that we want- where we stop thinking about what is going on and we just "do" without having to think? Can we turn into automated humans even before we get to the place that is our goal?
How often do you think about what you're doing and why you're doing it? For example, I go to the bathroom regularly, just as anyone else might. Just like anyone else, once I step through the doorway I turn on the lights. Why? Is it because I need light? No. During the day the window gives more than enough light to read by, or do anything else that i might be doing. Actually, at night I intentionally don't turn on the light because it hurts my eyes, so in actuality I never NEED the light. The amount of extra light I would have in the daytime is negligible. So, why do I turn the light on? Because I have been doing it for over 20 years. So, what if I don't turn the light on? Will that change things? No. Its not about turning the light on or off every time. Its about thinking about what is going on around me, deciding if I need the light, and then making conscious, in the moment decisions about my actions. What would happen if this became the norm instead of habitual action? I would become less of a machine, less of a creature acting on impulses programmed into head by years of repetition.
Are we products of our emotions?
Two days ago I was a victim of theft. My bikes were stolen. Given the option, I would have inflicted bodily harm on the people who did this. I have thought a great deal about this. Something inside me, deep down inside, makes me want to hurt them. I feel anger and revulsion towards these two people I don't even know, and I want to harm them. Some describe this as "seeing red." As I experience this feeling, I wonder to myself what then is the difference between me and a predator given the option to kill prey. They too do not think about peripheral circumstances and have only one purpose, one feeling. They want to hurt something else.
Although I am not terribly upset at the loss of my bikes, the premise still angers me. And yet, as a Christian, I wonder how to conquer or rise above my base feeling. I wonder if I do indeed ever come across my bikes, with someone else on them, what will I do? Will I be overcome by anger and lash out? Or can I not be a product of this dangerous emotion?
I am thinking a lot about the bikes, and since I have the power to think about people in order to come across them, I think i might see my bikes again. So, time will tell the answers to my questions....
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Being 28
My original intention was to write about the day I turned 28. So, here goes....
Woke up at 11:00. Went to church at 11:30
After that, went to Aldi's. Ran into an old friend who is now married and has a 6 month old kid.
Around 2ish, I went to tutor the 6th grader I work with. She is having trouble with fractions, which apparently is the only thing they study in 6th grade math. Fractions come in approximately 327 different forms.
Once I was done tutoring, I came home (i.e. Justin's living room), got my creek stuff, and went out to Harrisburg to look for some mill dams. I trespassed on some property to get to the river, talked to the owner (he was wary of me on his land), and then proceeded to not find a dam(n) thing. From there, I drove to where i thought another dam used to be, and could find nothing there either.
Went home. Played online poker. Went to bed.
Not very interested, if you ask me.
Do y'all remember what your 28th bday was like? do you have big anticipation about what it will be like?
For me, I could never have anticipated I would be here: back in grad school, living in a friend's living room, single, and spending large amounts of my time chasing the dream of someday fighting in a cage at 135 lbs. I really thought that at this point I would at least be married. Thank goodness I am not though. I wouldn't have the time.
I have noticed that this phase of age seems to be "friends getting divorced." I liked much better the "friends getting married" and the "friends having kids" phases.
It seems the rich engineer plan has fallen through also. Now, I am on the plan to finish my graduate degree and get an Earth Sciences job. If only Bridget had never convinced me to study some geology in grad school and Nicole had never convinced me to move to Atlanta.
The sunday church message about re-centering oneself in an effort to become "the one" (i.e. that person that someone else thinks they are meant to be with) made a lot of sense. We, and particularly I, have spent lots of time trying to find "the one," that person that fantasy and romance media tells us we are meant to be with. Doing this means you lose focus on defining yourself...I lost focus on defining myself as a Christian who is called to serve and love not just one woman, but everyone. Thus is my birthday present to myself...and it is hopefully a birthday present I will remember and use for many years to come.
Otherwise, I will be going to the beach to see a friend who is graduating...and giving myself the other birthday presents of margaritas.
Woke up at 11:00. Went to church at 11:30
After that, went to Aldi's. Ran into an old friend who is now married and has a 6 month old kid.
Around 2ish, I went to tutor the 6th grader I work with. She is having trouble with fractions, which apparently is the only thing they study in 6th grade math. Fractions come in approximately 327 different forms.
Once I was done tutoring, I came home (i.e. Justin's living room), got my creek stuff, and went out to Harrisburg to look for some mill dams. I trespassed on some property to get to the river, talked to the owner (he was wary of me on his land), and then proceeded to not find a dam(n) thing. From there, I drove to where i thought another dam used to be, and could find nothing there either.
Went home. Played online poker. Went to bed.
Not very interested, if you ask me.
Do y'all remember what your 28th bday was like? do you have big anticipation about what it will be like?
For me, I could never have anticipated I would be here: back in grad school, living in a friend's living room, single, and spending large amounts of my time chasing the dream of someday fighting in a cage at 135 lbs. I really thought that at this point I would at least be married. Thank goodness I am not though. I wouldn't have the time.
I have noticed that this phase of age seems to be "friends getting divorced." I liked much better the "friends getting married" and the "friends having kids" phases.
It seems the rich engineer plan has fallen through also. Now, I am on the plan to finish my graduate degree and get an Earth Sciences job. If only Bridget had never convinced me to study some geology in grad school and Nicole had never convinced me to move to Atlanta.
The sunday church message about re-centering oneself in an effort to become "the one" (i.e. that person that someone else thinks they are meant to be with) made a lot of sense. We, and particularly I, have spent lots of time trying to find "the one," that person that fantasy and romance media tells us we are meant to be with. Doing this means you lose focus on defining yourself...I lost focus on defining myself as a Christian who is called to serve and love not just one woman, but everyone. Thus is my birthday present to myself...and it is hopefully a birthday present I will remember and use for many years to come.
Otherwise, I will be going to the beach to see a friend who is graduating...and giving myself the other birthday presents of margaritas.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Christian?
I have been doing probably too much reading about Christianity. One of the things I am reading is sort of a response to the Emergent Church movement written by two guys who are more on the Orthodox side of things. I was given the book by two close friends of mine...father figures in my child-to-christian-man journey. They wanted me to read it, because they are on the side of the argument that says the emergent church is missing some key points and their theology is flawed. So, I am reading the book.
Whether or not I agree is going to have to be at least 5 postings, so I may just save it for some other venue. the important thing is though, just by reading the points and counterpoints, I have become more aware of some key things.
Both sides agree that "works," or the "doing" of Christian things (behaving in line with what Christ would have wanted) is important. The orthodox people believe (i think) that it is the manifestation of God's love through us, and is something of a byproduct of being Christian. The emergents, frustrated by so-called "Christian" who lack the outward intentions to help their neighbors, have decided that this behavior is of a higher priority, and should be one of the major foundational points of a growing/ developing relationship with God. These points being said, when I look in the mirror or when I look at my church friends, I wonder what has been done in the name of my faith today that Jesus would have wanted?
Rob Bell says that it is not enough to be a Christian who doesn't step on the toes of those who aren't. Christians throughout time have caused so much suffering we cant resort to pacifism to make up for it (of course really, nothing we do can make up for it). We must be offensive in our plans to make our actions synonymous with Christ, and hence synonymous with Love.
Think this all sounds too hard to do anything with? Its not. Find some small thing you can consciously do everyday that serves your neighbors and shows your love for everything. I have resorted to random acts of helping people with car trouble. Last week I helped push a car out of an intersection. I have also started to be more mindful of the small creatures around me. today I stopped on an off-ramp to make sure a snake got out of the road. I also later saved a spider off of a friend.
These things are small...and may seem insignificant. But they aren't. They are training for bigger things. Each thunderstorm starts with a single drop.
Wanna help? Ask your neighborhood Christian what they have done today that would make Jesus happy?
Whether or not I agree is going to have to be at least 5 postings, so I may just save it for some other venue. the important thing is though, just by reading the points and counterpoints, I have become more aware of some key things.
Both sides agree that "works," or the "doing" of Christian things (behaving in line with what Christ would have wanted) is important. The orthodox people believe (i think) that it is the manifestation of God's love through us, and is something of a byproduct of being Christian. The emergents, frustrated by so-called "Christian" who lack the outward intentions to help their neighbors, have decided that this behavior is of a higher priority, and should be one of the major foundational points of a growing/ developing relationship with God. These points being said, when I look in the mirror or when I look at my church friends, I wonder what has been done in the name of my faith today that Jesus would have wanted?
Rob Bell says that it is not enough to be a Christian who doesn't step on the toes of those who aren't. Christians throughout time have caused so much suffering we cant resort to pacifism to make up for it (of course really, nothing we do can make up for it). We must be offensive in our plans to make our actions synonymous with Christ, and hence synonymous with Love.
Think this all sounds too hard to do anything with? Its not. Find some small thing you can consciously do everyday that serves your neighbors and shows your love for everything. I have resorted to random acts of helping people with car trouble. Last week I helped push a car out of an intersection. I have also started to be more mindful of the small creatures around me. today I stopped on an off-ramp to make sure a snake got out of the road. I also later saved a spider off of a friend.
These things are small...and may seem insignificant. But they aren't. They are training for bigger things. Each thunderstorm starts with a single drop.
Wanna help? Ask your neighborhood Christian what they have done today that would make Jesus happy?
Friday, April 24, 2009
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
I have found that I have my own Jekyll and Hyde type issue.
If you were to come across me today, you would see a man with short hair, no facial hair, and mostly normal clothes. When I worked at Carrier, I became a khaki and polo type guy. Now that I am a student, I am slightly more casual, but still your typical t-shirt and short guy. I would introduce myself as Will, we might say a few cordial words, but you'd probably forget me. And yet, this is what society seems to want. I am supposed to just blend in. You might not forget me if I had visible tatoos or facial piercings, but you also would not want me tutoring your kids or serving your food (both things I do).
Unfortunately, there is something in me that lurks just below the surface. He is DAlen. Nobody forgets DAlen. Although he knows lots of people, MORE people know him...more people know OF him. Its probably the mohawk. Plus, of course, once you ask him to repeat his name 5 times and then you understand what he is saying, you just dont forget the name. You especially dont forget him if he is interviewing for a job...even with the mohawk down in "business" mode.
So, who would you hire first? The guy you forget? or the guy who you remember, but only because he doesnt fit?
I have been really wanting to go back to DAlen for awhile. I of course cant re-cut my hair because I am a server, but I can go back to the name. Will has been nice and easy, but maybe DAlen will hold some new interests for me. Maybe i'll get that internship afterall and I can ease into the mohawk. Those people seem passive enough that nobody would say anything. I would have to make my value known first, but then I think it would work. Of course, they would need to return a phone call first.
As for the ending of this random rambling...I got nothing.
If you were to come across me today, you would see a man with short hair, no facial hair, and mostly normal clothes. When I worked at Carrier, I became a khaki and polo type guy. Now that I am a student, I am slightly more casual, but still your typical t-shirt and short guy. I would introduce myself as Will, we might say a few cordial words, but you'd probably forget me. And yet, this is what society seems to want. I am supposed to just blend in. You might not forget me if I had visible tatoos or facial piercings, but you also would not want me tutoring your kids or serving your food (both things I do).
Unfortunately, there is something in me that lurks just below the surface. He is DAlen. Nobody forgets DAlen. Although he knows lots of people, MORE people know him...more people know OF him. Its probably the mohawk. Plus, of course, once you ask him to repeat his name 5 times and then you understand what he is saying, you just dont forget the name. You especially dont forget him if he is interviewing for a job...even with the mohawk down in "business" mode.
So, who would you hire first? The guy you forget? or the guy who you remember, but only because he doesnt fit?
I have been really wanting to go back to DAlen for awhile. I of course cant re-cut my hair because I am a server, but I can go back to the name. Will has been nice and easy, but maybe DAlen will hold some new interests for me. Maybe i'll get that internship afterall and I can ease into the mohawk. Those people seem passive enough that nobody would say anything. I would have to make my value known first, but then I think it would work. Of course, they would need to return a phone call first.
As for the ending of this random rambling...I got nothing.
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