As I type we are less than 9 hours from the start of the holiest of American Holidays. I guess you could call the whole day a holiday, or perhaps even the week should be set aside. The National Football League really is in a class all its own when it comes to marketing. Most of us are aware at least to some extent the kind of money involved in the Super Bowl and all of its accompanying pageantry. A short 30 second commercial spot during the game today will likely cost 3 or 4 million dollars. Players who the casual observer have never heard of will be "made famous" for a variety of reasons today, both good and bad. Any other television show mentioned during the big game will get a huge boost. This is actually how Survivor was originally marketed. It didn't hurt in the ratings game when millions of snack covered sweat pant warriors were unable to emerge from their food comas to turn the channel, hence the Survivor viewing numbers. What I find most impressive about the job that the NFL does, is how they manage to get millions and millions of people to care about a game that they have no rooting interest in.
I have a weird relationship with the sport of American Football. As a child and teenager, I never watched. My dad wasn't interested, my small handful of friends were hardly interested, and I was more than occupied with my own hockey and volleyball interests in the fall and winter months. When I had free time, I spent it watching hockey, or playing various forms of carpet hockey once my brother was old enough to provide adequate fodder. I watched some NFL action during University, particularly on Sundays when I was feeling lousy from whatever stupid things I did the night before, and my interest intensified if I had assignments deadlines looming. I think my interests picked up when I discovered the rush of sports betting. I had some fun for a few seasons, but this year my only ties to the NFL were in the form of a couple of fantasy teams that I shared with a friend. The fantasy season wraps up in the regular season, so my interest in the playoffs has been very limited. I watched the Seattle game last week, taking a number of short naps while the game was on. Will I be watching later today? Probably. I feel like I am suppose to. I'm battling an illness, so I won't be surprised if I end up napping my way through parts of the longest sporting event of the year.
At our house, we had a trying week as our little Asher went through his first illness of his life. He has had a cold once or twice, but last Monday heading into Tuesday we could tell something was wrong. Asher went to the walk in clinic with Sheila on Wednesday night and ended up with a prescription for antibiotics. He had been diagnosed with bronchitis. While we dealt with plenty of whining from our little guy, it soon became clear that Asher had no idea how to deal with being sick. For most of the week, he laid in bed watching "teetee", hardly eating. We knew he was really sick because his hockey gear lay idle. Three morning in a row he asked me if he could have a bath. Asher loves having baths, but he has never asked me to run a bath for him early in the day like that. They seemed to pick up his spirits quite a bit each time, but it was back to laying down and cuddling after each one. He was very upset about taking his medicine, unable to make the connection between the liquid and the idea of getting better. For that matter, he kept insisting that he wasn't sick. Yesterday, recovery seemingly well underway, Jasmine asked me if she and Asher could go and play outside. Keep in mind, she asked while I was in the shower. Clearly not thinking straight, I called out a fatherly warning to dress very warm due to the cold spell we are currently enjoying. After a few more gallons of steamy hot water hit me I hollered back to Jasmine. I had changed my mind after remembering that although Asher was feeling better, it wasn't a good idea to send him outside. This reversal of fortune was traumatizing to the little guy. He was hearing none of my reasoning and had to be bought off with a snack and an episode of Sponge Bob. A little later we were talking about all of the activities he was going to get back to next week, now that he is feeling better. He couldn't decide what he missed the most, but he is looking forward to going to daycare, Strong Start and the swimming pool next week.
Sheila and I have decided to combine Valentine's Day and her birthday into one date. Hey, as parents of two on a shoestring budget, we are lucky to have a night out at all. Sheila is still on could nine about our engagement and told me not to bother with gifts for the two special days coming up. I know better than that, so will be on the lookout for something she will like. Pretty much anything will be a let down after "the ring", so I'm pretty much sunk. It is cute that Sheila seems to have taken on some of my spend thrift ways. The date night planned falls between Valentine's and the birthday, on Tuesday the 18th. We can avoid the Valentine's crowds (i'm working Valentine's evening anyway), we can visit the theatre on cheap night, and best of all, we can use the gift card Sheila has for the Keg. Of course, if I am polite enough not to mention sports, poker or any other of my annoying guy hobbies, she won't probably won't care that the date is being paid for with pocket change. It's the time spent together that really matters, right?
The gift card that I mentioned above was one of quite a few that Sheila has been given by her manager at work recently. It seems that he gives these to her as a token for all of her hard work and dedication to her job. Sheila works at a transportation company, and a few weeks ago they took on a significant amount of new business due to the closure of another company in town. This has led to considerably less down time between tasks, and also has had Sheila working the last couple of Saturdays. The manager at the company is a very nice guy from what I can tell. Sheila enjoys working for him, and these tokens of appreciation are a solid gesture. She works her ass off because that's just how she is, and also because she wants to be considered for advancement and raises like most due. For most people, it's just talk. They want to advance without working for it. Sheila has gave her company the best effort she has for over 5 years. Actions speak louder than words as they always do, and I know Sheila takes pride in what she does. As the company grows and new opportunities arise, I have no doubt my lady will be there to "carpe diem" as they say.
I think that part of my blase attitude towards watching or caring about football is that I have spent the last number of months totally immersed once again in all things hockey. With my little man getting more and more into the sport himself, it has only given me more reason to get carried away. I have spent much time cursing my Oilers on the television, enjoyed 10 or so live Spruce Kings games, caught a few live Cariboo Cougars games (15-17 year olds), attended 2 WHL Cougars games (once with my friend at work, the other with Asher), participated in 5 different hockey pools, played nearly 20 games for my rec league team, also played pick up hockey a few times, gone skating with the kids a few times, played hours of basement hockey, and also i've watched dozens of NHL that didn't involve the Oilers. It seems finding new teams to enjoy is one way to keep from going off the deep end. Edmonton has driven me to begin calling the New York Islanders, the Dallas Stars, the Winnipeg Jets and the Tampa Bay Lightning my "other favourite teams". I also follow many players that find themselves scattered throughout the league due to their presence on one or more of my pool teams.
I most enjoy watching hockey when Asher watches with me. He will curl up with me on the couch or bed to take in the "Oilahs". Humourously, he has taken to saying that they "suck" recently, something he likely picked up from me during one of their many losses. Before a recent game he asked me "is the Oilahs losing Daddy?" I told him the game hadn't started, but he just responded with "they suck Daddy." Sure enough, I was able to confirm that they were indeed losing just a few minutes later. Asher has even started figuring out some of the other teams. He knows the Canucks, and his Mom and sister's mild affinity for them. He surprised me last week by calling out the "Blackhawks" name. He knows that Montreal is his Uncle Patrick's team, and that Toronto is Daddy's friend Jason's team. Definitely the most fun we have had recently, was our father and son trip to the Cougars game a couple of weeks ago. Asher brought along his gick and a puck, which kept him busy for the most part. We found a seat 3 rows up right behind the net, and we even switched ends each period so we could see the Cougars goals with little chance of missing them. Asher sat with me for most of the third period, and we had a lot of fun cheering for each goal. We already have plans to go back for one more game, in a couple of weeks they are playing mid-week again, and he is raring to go.
Lately, I have been able to view a number of really, really good movies. Sheila had been itching to watch "The Butler" and we finally had a chance to check it out. I was skeptical about my chances of staying awake for a 3 hour drama film while laying in bed tired. As it turns out, I had no problem keeping my eyes open. The film is moving and heartfelt. Its put together in a way that really showcased Forest Whittaker's acting talent. Oprah played a supporting role as the butler's wife, and she's no slouch in the acting department either. I am lucky enough to go to the movies at work fairly regularly, and in recent months I have seen "American Hustle", "Lone Survivor", and "12 Years A Slave" at our local theatre. Sheila and I also got a chance to watch recent release "Dallas Buyers Club" the other night. I tell you what. That is a hell of a collection of movies right there. Hustle, Buyers Club and 12 Years A Slave are all up for Best Picture at the Oscars. It's extremely difficult to rank these movies as far which was my favourite, but that is what I do, I make lists. So here it is.
5) Lone Survivor is probably the best movie Mark Wahlberg has ever done. The movie is almost entirely made up of a gunfight between al Queda fighters and 4 American soldiers. The action during the fight feels so real and genuine, it's easy enough to get lost in its authenticity. 3.5/5
4) American Hustle was great as expected. The cast is filled with superstars from Christian Bale to Bradley Cooper to Jennifer Lawrence. It started to drag on a bit towards the end, but that took away from the movie only a slight bit.
3) The Butler Definitely one of the best movies for couples to come out recently. A love bio pics, as it seems to add an element of importance to the story being told. Add in the previously mentioned performances from Whittaker and Oprah, and you have a really well done movie.
2) Dallas Buyers Club I have raved to anyone who would listen about how good Matthew McConaughey was in his last movie "Mud". I went so far as to list it at #2 in my favourite movies of 2013. He has outdone himself with this one. Everyone is talking about his losing 50 pounds for the role, something I find amazing considering the physique he already had. There was no fat to be dropped, losing 50 pounds of mostly muscle is pretty incredible. His character, Ron Woodruff, is so complex, but McConaughey seems to handle it with ease. Coupled with the supporting performance by Jared Leto playing a transgendered woman who becomes Ron Woodruff's business partner, I was hooked from beginning to end.
1) 12 Years A Slave Words simply can not do this movie justice. Everyone over the age of 16 should see this film. The unique way in which the director Steve McQueen shot the film, captures even small details and makes you realize that they are all part of the bigger picture. Incredible acting performances by everyone in the film. Engaging subject matter that left me unwilling to look away. Heart wrenching scenes, culminating with Lupita Nyong'o's character getting a violent beating that the slave owner forced her friend to administer. This is likely one of the best movies I have ever seen, and I am still shaken from his powerful force days later. Do whatever you can to get out and see it, it's a life changer.
Before I wrap this up, I can't neglect to mention a most awesome gift I was given by my sister Erin for Christmas. She was lucky enough to pull my name for our family secret santa this year. She was very generous, and one of the things she gave me was a fitbit flex. It's a little wristband with a tracking chip inside of it. You wear it, and it tracks your steps taken, distance traveled and calories burnt throughout the day. It also can track sleeping patterns though I haven't sued it for that. It does work as a silent alarm as well, though my habit of smashing the sleep button leads me to worry that the fitbit won't wake me up. Sheila is such a light sleeper that the silent vibrations at my wrist wake her up. I digress. Erin is well aware of my affinity for all things fitness, and while I had heard about the fitbit, I knew little about it. As it turns out, it has done wonders to motivate me to keep active. I find it very hard to have a lazy day when I have this readily available visual reminder about how much or how little I have done on any given day. Even when I am having a lazy day, usually falling on Sundays and Mondays due to sleep deprivation, I find that my fitbit gets me to at least do some physical activity. The lights on the wristband let you know how close to your daily goal you are. I have mine set to 10,000 steps taken, so for every light it's 2000 steps. I haven't had a day under 6000, even when I am "taking the day off" so to speak. I have knocked it out of the park a few times, culminating last week in a day when I hit 18,000 steps. If I remember correctly, that day consisted of 3 different walks, a jog, tons of work around the house, taking the dog out in the yard, a hockey game and more. When choosing something to do, I find that the fitbit has me leaning towards the most active option almost every time. Thanks Erin, it's definitely one of the coolest gifts I have received.
With that, I bid adieu to my small gaggle of loyal readers. To my mom, hang in there, I'm looking forward to visiting with you soon. To my most loyal reader Sheila, thanks for lighting a fire under my blog neglecting posterior. To Elizabeth, I hope your recovery is going well, please take it easy. To the rest of you, take care, I shall be back soon.
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Sunday, 2 February 2014
Monday, 3 June 2013
46 Minutes and 28 Seconds of Sunshine on a Sunday Morning: or How I Ran Faster Than I Ever Have Before, at a Distance I Have Only Tried Twice Before
I am someone who often struggles with my own self doubts. Am I good enough? Am I successful? Am I doing the best I can in life? I don't want to say that I get depressed at times, but I do get down on myself for periods that can last minutes or even hours or days. I know that people who are truly depressed constantly fight a battle against themselves. This weekend, I lined up a challenge for myself that until Sunday morning seemed daunting. In all my imperfect moments going forward I can look back at what I accomplished and smile.
I had managed to get most of the week off from work. I wanted time to prepare for Sunday morning, I was able to play my soccer game Friday night, and I was able to spend some time hanging out with my family. I had run a 10 km trial run on Monday and lived to tell of it. Please spend time reading the post I authored after that run if you haven't already. It's here. I ran a slower paced 7 km on Wednesday and that also went well.
On Friday night I suited up in the red and white kit of my mew soccer team "Queensway Auto World" and arrived at the field ready to take on "Eden Spas". I got a fun surprise when a couple of the guys I was going to play with in the recreational league arrived. They were set to play as call ups for our opponent. One of the guys joked about me "ditching them", and assured me that I would pay for my rudeness in the game. All in good fun, Dan is a great soccer player, who could easily play in the league if he wanted to. As expected, he more than held his own against us, providing his team with endless energy in the midfield. I started the game on the bench, as we had a full squad with 4 extras. I came on about 20 minutes in, played striker for a few minutes before shifting back to left wing. Nearing the end of the half our striker had the ball just inside the 18 yard box in the left side. He is shifty and quick, so a second defender moved over to help on him. He quickly moved laterally and fed the ball between the two defenders to me, as my mark had left me to help. I took one touch to control, then blasted a low left footed shot. It skimmed along the turf with an out turn as it headed towards the far side of the net. Having the perfect view, I knew it was in well before it entered the net. The ball clanged off the inside of the goal post and settled into the net. I can't recall the last goal I scored in a soccer game, and the last meaningful soccer goal I scored in a full field soccer game was probably back in high school. (erm, I barely scored any then either, but there must have been at least 1!) I sat again to start the second half but I joined the game about 10 minutes in this time and helped our team hold on to the 1-0 lead. We didn't play great, and neither did Eden Spas. It was an odd game where very little happened. We committed plenty of fouls, but nothing really malicious. As the thoughts I having my goal hold up as the winner were dancing in my head, we conceded a free kick about 30 yards from goal. The ball came in, took a couple of bounces and fell to one of their guys. He hit the ball, it deflected off of a defenders leg and alluded the goalie's diving effort. No chance to save it, and the game was tied. Worst of all, there was 3 minutes left in the game. It took a little shine off of the night, but I still have my goal to remember. I've never played at this level of soccer, so scoring a goal in only my second game of the season was an awesome feeling. I believe there is more to come.
I coached Jasmine's soccer game Saturday afternoon, then planned to take it easy the rest of the day to prepare myself for the next morning. Ian came over and we watched the Bruins and Penguins game. After the game, I threw on a movie "Oz the Great and Powerful" hoping it would interest both the adults and the kids. Meh. It was pretty bad, but Jasmine seemed to like it. My mom, dad and sister all arrived from Quesnel. They were up to watch in the big race in the morning. Sheila had run out to the store and spoiled me with a few protein bars, gatorade drinks and a pedometer that also tracked time and distance. I went to lay down pretty early, hoping to get lots of sleep for the race. I wasn't nervous, but more anxious. I had laid off the junk food for a couple days, chewed a protein bar and had some gatorade. I surfed on the internet, hoping to bore myself to sleep. In the end, it was a fitful night's sleep with only a little rest. I rose at 645 to prepare.
Observations from race day:
-Having a hot shower before running is great. I usually run in the late afternoon when Sheila gets home, but I will have to remember how much energy a shower seems to provide.
-I kept most of my pre-run routine as consistent as possible. I had a half cup of coffee. I ate a few bites of a banana, and bit of a protein bar. Typically, I want to run on an empty or close to empty stomach. I knew that I would need a bit of energy for the race, so I ate a bit. It worked out, I didn't get a stomach cramp, and I had a decent amount of energy.
-My dad drove me down to the track, with the rest of my supporters (it feels good to type that) due to arrive closer to race time. After getting my shoes on, it was nice to walk a few laps with my dad and chat, it took my mind away from the race which was a mere half hour away.
-I had my pedometer, my plan was to use it to run at a steady pace. I was shooting for a time of 50 minutes or 5 minutes per kilometer. I had run at or around that pace throughout most of my training. Without my ipod I thought maybe I would run slower. I was hoping that the competitors ahead of me and my desire to keep up would counteract this.
-I wanted to start the race near the front of the pack. Too close to the back and I would be stuck weaving through people. If I was too close to the front though, having numerous people run by me would probably be demoralising. I just moved onto the track, and people kind of filled in around me. The race organisers counted us down, and we were off.
-We circled half of the track, then left the stadium to begin running the roads of Prince George. I quickly realised that my pedometer had reset, and was currently counting miles and not kilometers. Not a big deal, I still had a timer, but I would now rely on feel and instinct to pace myself.
-One lady ran past me as we left the stadium, and I would soon realise how much I didn't want this to happen during the race. I started up the hill on Massey drive, and soon had someone breathing down my neck. A lady passed me as we neared the top of the hill, but only for a few seconds. As we crested the hill I lengthened my stride and passed her back. I slowly moved away from her and for the next 3 or so kilometers I ran completely by myself. The nearest person ahead of me was probably 200 meters, and while I wasn't looking back often, I could see when I went around corners that I had a comfortable gap behind me as well. I didn't expect this. I thought it would be a tighter race, but with 122 runners of all shapes and sizes, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
-The caterpillars were out in full force to cheer us on, happily being squished underfoot as they were impossible to avoid completely.
-I'm used to running without any drinks on the road. It was nice to have 3 different drink stations along the course.
-Something that is quickly becoming "my thing" while I run, I said hello or thank you to every single person that was out on the course. There were a handful of spectators, and most of them shouted words of encouragement, or clapped. Every one of them got a "thank you" or "good morning" from me. The volunteers at the drink stations and the crosswalks who made the race possible also got "thank you" from me. It was fun and inspiring at the same time.
-While the support of strangers was nice, it was even more inspiring to have my family there to support me. About 3 km into the race as I gradually gained ground on the woman in front me we came up on one of the local schools. I noticed 3 people sitting in chairs in the parking lot, and I realised as I got closer it was Sheila and my mom and dad. They stood and cheered, I waved and hollered back at them, then got back to racing. Jasmine and Asher both hollered at me from the playground. I looked over to see Jasmine waving from the top of the jungle gym. I would see them again shortly as they jumped in their vehicles and drove by me. My sister Paulette, and Jasmine and Asher were all hollering out the windows as they drove by, with the horns going as well. We covered a few kilometers of Ospika, and I managed to get past the lady I was chasing, before setting my sights on the next runner. He was a good few hundred meters ahead, but he seemed to be slowing somewhat. We ran a short hill as we approached Massey once more, and after we crested I decided to pick up the speed considerably to get by. That might have been the most enjoyable part of the race, passing someone while giving everything I had. We rounded the corner onto 18th, and my family drove past once more, hollering and making a commotion. They stopped up ahead, snapping photos, and my Dad successfully passed me a drink. I got one more drive by as I left the CNC parking lot, and Paulette famously shouted: "GOOOOOO Matt!! You're in first place!!!!" She couldn't see anyone in front of me, and there wasn't anyone. I had a laugh and kept going.
-As I turned onto Westwood for the home stretch I looked at my timer for the first time since the first kilometer. I had run for 40 minutes. I wasn't sure how close to the finish line I was, but I had a feeling that I was running a fast race. I approached Massey and turned the corner towards the stadium. The runners from the 5 km race were coming in from a different direction, but we would all run back down Massey together. A sign was placed near the corner telling us we had 1 km to go. I knew I was running a fast time, and I felt like I had some gas left in the tank. There was a downhill portion, and I relaxed my body, allowing myself to lengthen my stride. I passed at least a dozen runners down the hill, picked the pace up a little more as we approached the track. I entered the track, and decided to leave it all out there. I sprinted the last 250 meters, passing another 5 or 6 runners. I even got a reaction from the race m.c. who couldn't help but notice this crazy man galloping across the line. As it turned out, this isn't normal and I was literally the only person who did a flat out sprint across the line. I felt great. I checked my time and I knew I had clocked in at less than 47 minutes! Sheila and Asher approached, and I got a huge hug from my son. What a feeling!
-I found out a short time later that my official time was 46 minutes and 28 seconds. I had finished 14th out of 122 runners. The 13 people who finished ahead of me were "runners". Most of them were seasoned veterans. I'm more than happy that I could be that competitive when I have only run that distance twice before in my life.
-They handed out medals to the top 3 finishers in each category. I was in the 19-49 year old male category, and I finished a respectable 6th of 22. I was 6 minutes off of the third place time, to which Sheila remarked, "well, it's only 6 minutes. I'm sure you could do that." Very supportive, but a lofty goal no doubt.
-While my time is a great accomplishment, the thing I am most proud of, is that other than 1 lady passing me in the first 200 meters, not a single person passed me during the 10 km race. At the crest of Massey when a different lady passed me for a few seconds, I set that as a goal. No one was going to overtake me as I ran. I kept my pace up and didn't feel like I had too many lulls in the race at all. Other than that brief moment, no one else came close to passing me. Proof that I can run this distance regularly, without suffering.
-Other than some pain in my left shin, which was present before the race, I feel fine today. This makes me think I didn't over do it, and maybe I am capable of doing even better.
-My mom asked me if I got the bug, and honestly, I don't know. The competitor in me wants to do this more often. And I will do it again. In fact, I plan to pull an even more ambitious double in less than 2 weeks. This time was soccer Friday night followed by a 10 km run on Sunday morning. June 14th I play soccer again, followed by a 10 km trail race the morning of June 15th. Why not keep the challenges coming?
I had managed to get most of the week off from work. I wanted time to prepare for Sunday morning, I was able to play my soccer game Friday night, and I was able to spend some time hanging out with my family. I had run a 10 km trial run on Monday and lived to tell of it. Please spend time reading the post I authored after that run if you haven't already. It's here. I ran a slower paced 7 km on Wednesday and that also went well.
On Friday night I suited up in the red and white kit of my mew soccer team "Queensway Auto World" and arrived at the field ready to take on "Eden Spas". I got a fun surprise when a couple of the guys I was going to play with in the recreational league arrived. They were set to play as call ups for our opponent. One of the guys joked about me "ditching them", and assured me that I would pay for my rudeness in the game. All in good fun, Dan is a great soccer player, who could easily play in the league if he wanted to. As expected, he more than held his own against us, providing his team with endless energy in the midfield. I started the game on the bench, as we had a full squad with 4 extras. I came on about 20 minutes in, played striker for a few minutes before shifting back to left wing. Nearing the end of the half our striker had the ball just inside the 18 yard box in the left side. He is shifty and quick, so a second defender moved over to help on him. He quickly moved laterally and fed the ball between the two defenders to me, as my mark had left me to help. I took one touch to control, then blasted a low left footed shot. It skimmed along the turf with an out turn as it headed towards the far side of the net. Having the perfect view, I knew it was in well before it entered the net. The ball clanged off the inside of the goal post and settled into the net. I can't recall the last goal I scored in a soccer game, and the last meaningful soccer goal I scored in a full field soccer game was probably back in high school. (erm, I barely scored any then either, but there must have been at least 1!) I sat again to start the second half but I joined the game about 10 minutes in this time and helped our team hold on to the 1-0 lead. We didn't play great, and neither did Eden Spas. It was an odd game where very little happened. We committed plenty of fouls, but nothing really malicious. As the thoughts I having my goal hold up as the winner were dancing in my head, we conceded a free kick about 30 yards from goal. The ball came in, took a couple of bounces and fell to one of their guys. He hit the ball, it deflected off of a defenders leg and alluded the goalie's diving effort. No chance to save it, and the game was tied. Worst of all, there was 3 minutes left in the game. It took a little shine off of the night, but I still have my goal to remember. I've never played at this level of soccer, so scoring a goal in only my second game of the season was an awesome feeling. I believe there is more to come.
I coached Jasmine's soccer game Saturday afternoon, then planned to take it easy the rest of the day to prepare myself for the next morning. Ian came over and we watched the Bruins and Penguins game. After the game, I threw on a movie "Oz the Great and Powerful" hoping it would interest both the adults and the kids. Meh. It was pretty bad, but Jasmine seemed to like it. My mom, dad and sister all arrived from Quesnel. They were up to watch in the big race in the morning. Sheila had run out to the store and spoiled me with a few protein bars, gatorade drinks and a pedometer that also tracked time and distance. I went to lay down pretty early, hoping to get lots of sleep for the race. I wasn't nervous, but more anxious. I had laid off the junk food for a couple days, chewed a protein bar and had some gatorade. I surfed on the internet, hoping to bore myself to sleep. In the end, it was a fitful night's sleep with only a little rest. I rose at 645 to prepare.
Observations from race day:
-Having a hot shower before running is great. I usually run in the late afternoon when Sheila gets home, but I will have to remember how much energy a shower seems to provide.
-I kept most of my pre-run routine as consistent as possible. I had a half cup of coffee. I ate a few bites of a banana, and bit of a protein bar. Typically, I want to run on an empty or close to empty stomach. I knew that I would need a bit of energy for the race, so I ate a bit. It worked out, I didn't get a stomach cramp, and I had a decent amount of energy.
-My dad drove me down to the track, with the rest of my supporters (it feels good to type that) due to arrive closer to race time. After getting my shoes on, it was nice to walk a few laps with my dad and chat, it took my mind away from the race which was a mere half hour away.
-I had my pedometer, my plan was to use it to run at a steady pace. I was shooting for a time of 50 minutes or 5 minutes per kilometer. I had run at or around that pace throughout most of my training. Without my ipod I thought maybe I would run slower. I was hoping that the competitors ahead of me and my desire to keep up would counteract this.
-I wanted to start the race near the front of the pack. Too close to the back and I would be stuck weaving through people. If I was too close to the front though, having numerous people run by me would probably be demoralising. I just moved onto the track, and people kind of filled in around me. The race organisers counted us down, and we were off.
-We circled half of the track, then left the stadium to begin running the roads of Prince George. I quickly realised that my pedometer had reset, and was currently counting miles and not kilometers. Not a big deal, I still had a timer, but I would now rely on feel and instinct to pace myself.
-One lady ran past me as we left the stadium, and I would soon realise how much I didn't want this to happen during the race. I started up the hill on Massey drive, and soon had someone breathing down my neck. A lady passed me as we neared the top of the hill, but only for a few seconds. As we crested the hill I lengthened my stride and passed her back. I slowly moved away from her and for the next 3 or so kilometers I ran completely by myself. The nearest person ahead of me was probably 200 meters, and while I wasn't looking back often, I could see when I went around corners that I had a comfortable gap behind me as well. I didn't expect this. I thought it would be a tighter race, but with 122 runners of all shapes and sizes, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
-The caterpillars were out in full force to cheer us on, happily being squished underfoot as they were impossible to avoid completely.
-I'm used to running without any drinks on the road. It was nice to have 3 different drink stations along the course.
-Something that is quickly becoming "my thing" while I run, I said hello or thank you to every single person that was out on the course. There were a handful of spectators, and most of them shouted words of encouragement, or clapped. Every one of them got a "thank you" or "good morning" from me. The volunteers at the drink stations and the crosswalks who made the race possible also got "thank you" from me. It was fun and inspiring at the same time.
-While the support of strangers was nice, it was even more inspiring to have my family there to support me. About 3 km into the race as I gradually gained ground on the woman in front me we came up on one of the local schools. I noticed 3 people sitting in chairs in the parking lot, and I realised as I got closer it was Sheila and my mom and dad. They stood and cheered, I waved and hollered back at them, then got back to racing. Jasmine and Asher both hollered at me from the playground. I looked over to see Jasmine waving from the top of the jungle gym. I would see them again shortly as they jumped in their vehicles and drove by me. My sister Paulette, and Jasmine and Asher were all hollering out the windows as they drove by, with the horns going as well. We covered a few kilometers of Ospika, and I managed to get past the lady I was chasing, before setting my sights on the next runner. He was a good few hundred meters ahead, but he seemed to be slowing somewhat. We ran a short hill as we approached Massey once more, and after we crested I decided to pick up the speed considerably to get by. That might have been the most enjoyable part of the race, passing someone while giving everything I had. We rounded the corner onto 18th, and my family drove past once more, hollering and making a commotion. They stopped up ahead, snapping photos, and my Dad successfully passed me a drink. I got one more drive by as I left the CNC parking lot, and Paulette famously shouted: "GOOOOOO Matt!! You're in first place!!!!" She couldn't see anyone in front of me, and there wasn't anyone. I had a laugh and kept going.
-As I turned onto Westwood for the home stretch I looked at my timer for the first time since the first kilometer. I had run for 40 minutes. I wasn't sure how close to the finish line I was, but I had a feeling that I was running a fast race. I approached Massey and turned the corner towards the stadium. The runners from the 5 km race were coming in from a different direction, but we would all run back down Massey together. A sign was placed near the corner telling us we had 1 km to go. I knew I was running a fast time, and I felt like I had some gas left in the tank. There was a downhill portion, and I relaxed my body, allowing myself to lengthen my stride. I passed at least a dozen runners down the hill, picked the pace up a little more as we approached the track. I entered the track, and decided to leave it all out there. I sprinted the last 250 meters, passing another 5 or 6 runners. I even got a reaction from the race m.c. who couldn't help but notice this crazy man galloping across the line. As it turned out, this isn't normal and I was literally the only person who did a flat out sprint across the line. I felt great. I checked my time and I knew I had clocked in at less than 47 minutes! Sheila and Asher approached, and I got a huge hug from my son. What a feeling!
-I found out a short time later that my official time was 46 minutes and 28 seconds. I had finished 14th out of 122 runners. The 13 people who finished ahead of me were "runners". Most of them were seasoned veterans. I'm more than happy that I could be that competitive when I have only run that distance twice before in my life.
-They handed out medals to the top 3 finishers in each category. I was in the 19-49 year old male category, and I finished a respectable 6th of 22. I was 6 minutes off of the third place time, to which Sheila remarked, "well, it's only 6 minutes. I'm sure you could do that." Very supportive, but a lofty goal no doubt.
-While my time is a great accomplishment, the thing I am most proud of, is that other than 1 lady passing me in the first 200 meters, not a single person passed me during the 10 km race. At the crest of Massey when a different lady passed me for a few seconds, I set that as a goal. No one was going to overtake me as I ran. I kept my pace up and didn't feel like I had too many lulls in the race at all. Other than that brief moment, no one else came close to passing me. Proof that I can run this distance regularly, without suffering.
-Other than some pain in my left shin, which was present before the race, I feel fine today. This makes me think I didn't over do it, and maybe I am capable of doing even better.
-My mom asked me if I got the bug, and honestly, I don't know. The competitor in me wants to do this more often. And I will do it again. In fact, I plan to pull an even more ambitious double in less than 2 weeks. This time was soccer Friday night followed by a 10 km run on Sunday morning. June 14th I play soccer again, followed by a 10 km trail race the morning of June 15th. Why not keep the challenges coming?
Monday, 11 March 2013
What's In a Name?
The power of speech is well established in modern society. Language can be used to manipulate situations, those that possess a larger vocabulary essentially have a larger arsenal to fire with so to speak. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about this idea, that words are weapons in a sense. Specifically, how we speak to one another carries a lot of weight in the world. To narrow it down even further, my thoughts have been about names, given names, nicknames, names that we call others both derisive and endearing. Why is it that names hold so much weight and power? When a name is hurled at you, either positive or negative, you are recieving a glimpse into the person's mind. Often, insults are played off by the delivering party with cursory comments such as "I didn't mean anything by it", but in reality, the words wouldn't be in your mind to begin with if there wasn't some intent behind them. It is quite startling how frequently the topic of names comes up in every day life, in such a wide variety of contexts.
My mom and my sister were up for an overnight visit last week, and while they were here the topic of names came up a few times. My sister's name is Paulette, which I think is a very nice name. It is one that most people will have heard of, it's easy enough to spell, but when you look it up in any database's you will realize how rarely it is actually used. My mom was telling us how she always gets a kick out of Paulette's reaction to meeting other people with her name. It is infrequent, but when she goes to the hospital in Quesnel she will see the nurse there named Paulette. As mom tells the story, the woman has been there since time began, and is in her seventies. Paulette first met the other Paulette when she was a child, now she is 31 (Not to worry my sister is happy to share her age with everyone). My sister loves this lady. It may have something to do with her being very friendly and helpful as she is a nurse and they have a knack for that kind of thing, but it mostly comes down to their shared name and the common bond it seems to create. My sister has also taken to lighting up when someone has the same name as my mom. It's interesting, because this facination with names is something that my sister and I share in common. I am always curious about names, where they came from, how they are spelled and the like.
We, being Asher, my mom, my sister and I all went to meet my brother and his girlfriend at Tim Horton's to visit. My brother and his girlfriend have a baby on the way in July and the discussion turned to baby names. Not surprisingly, baby's mom (not sure she wants her name out there so I'm going to play it safe), has had some names picked out for years as many females are apt to do. She announced that if it's a girl she wants the name to be Elizabeth. I could tell Ian didn't like the name, and I provided support by agreeing, it wasn't a name that I liked. I regretted this afterwards, as I really should play no part at all in the naming of your baby Ian. I hope the two of you choose a name for your baby that you both like after having a lot of discussions about it. My obsession with names aside, once the baby arrives, the special bond between parents and baby and the overwhelming love that you will have for baby takes precedence over the name you choose. Sheila and I both feel like "Asher" suits our little guy perfectly, but I have a feeling we would say that about any name we had gone with.
At Asher's favorite place these days, the Strong Start class at Malaspina, one of his little friends goes by the name of Princess. She is just shy of 2 years old, has blonde hair, with big blue eyes, the type that seem to follow you as she observes you. She is very cute, and the name Princess just seems perfect for her. It's a unique name, and due to my curious mind, I had been wondering for weeks about it. She comes to the program with her nanny, but I didn't want to offend by asking about the origins of the name. I was signing Asher in one morning and noticed that she had been signed in as "Aaralyn/Princess". So, as we helped the kids I brought up the name thing, and as it turns out, Princess became Princess by simply acting like a Princess. Her nanny had taken to calling her that because of her demeanor and it stuck. There is nothing wrong with her given name but Princess just suits her perfectly. Normally, I am a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to given names, but a little girl lucky enough to have a very nice given name and a perfectly suited nickname is a lucky girl indeed.
At work the other day over coffee myself and a co-worker were discussing what led us to working in the field that we do. As it turns out, we were both the recipients of bullying and intimidation in our younger days. My co-worker is more middle-aged then I, and it seems the treatment he recieved was much harsher. From what I can see, he overcame this and became a caring, well-rounded person. This had me wondering though, perhaps my obsession with names leads back to my time being bullied in high school. I've experienced the power of name-calling first hand. While my work can be dull at times, the position of support I can provide for the guys who work with is fulfilling.
High school really is the home base of the personal name calling type of insult. It has been years since I can recall being the target of a personal attack. At University I was taken aback initially by the mostly accepting culture where those from such a wide variety of backgrounds can co-exist peacefully. The default attitude went from prejudging those who were different to more of a curiousity. When I met someone from a different background I always wanted to know more about them. Be it another culture or socio-economic background or otherwise, I didn't have a predetermined outlook on what that person would be like. Often, I wonder if I am too curious, and too open with others. Maybe to the point of being annoying. In the end, I can't do a whole lot to change that. It's the way I am.
Names are a large part of life. My focus of today's writing was largely on names of people, but all things we come across in life have been named, and often these names that things or people have been given influence the way we look at them. Whether it be the name of a band, or a television show or movie, we are likely to draw conclusions about the content or style of something based on the name that they have. Self-given names are usually less telling, but if something or someone has had a name bestowed on them by others, say Princess for instance, you are likely to get more of an idea of that person's nature or that band's style.
What ultimately prompted me to write this content was a comment a friend gave me about my previous series of posts. Having my material called boring shouldn't shock me, as people do have varying tastes. Having my content called boring publicly was a bit more surprising. While I know the comment wasn't meant as a personal attack, I initially took it that way. My blog, being that the content comes from my mind, is an extension of me in a way. My blog being insulted, felt like an attack on my person. I know that I am sensitive to "put downs", but it was very reassuring that another friend then defended my content. It goes without saying that those that are bored by this blog need not read it, but things aren't always that simple. I want people to speak their mind just as I do, even though the results may not be pleasant or heartwarming. Ultimately I want to thank both guys for being honest and truthful, not to mention that the exchange spawned another post boring, intriguing or otherwise.
My mom and my sister were up for an overnight visit last week, and while they were here the topic of names came up a few times. My sister's name is Paulette, which I think is a very nice name. It is one that most people will have heard of, it's easy enough to spell, but when you look it up in any database's you will realize how rarely it is actually used. My mom was telling us how she always gets a kick out of Paulette's reaction to meeting other people with her name. It is infrequent, but when she goes to the hospital in Quesnel she will see the nurse there named Paulette. As mom tells the story, the woman has been there since time began, and is in her seventies. Paulette first met the other Paulette when she was a child, now she is 31 (Not to worry my sister is happy to share her age with everyone). My sister loves this lady. It may have something to do with her being very friendly and helpful as she is a nurse and they have a knack for that kind of thing, but it mostly comes down to their shared name and the common bond it seems to create. My sister has also taken to lighting up when someone has the same name as my mom. It's interesting, because this facination with names is something that my sister and I share in common. I am always curious about names, where they came from, how they are spelled and the like.
We, being Asher, my mom, my sister and I all went to meet my brother and his girlfriend at Tim Horton's to visit. My brother and his girlfriend have a baby on the way in July and the discussion turned to baby names. Not surprisingly, baby's mom (not sure she wants her name out there so I'm going to play it safe), has had some names picked out for years as many females are apt to do. She announced that if it's a girl she wants the name to be Elizabeth. I could tell Ian didn't like the name, and I provided support by agreeing, it wasn't a name that I liked. I regretted this afterwards, as I really should play no part at all in the naming of your baby Ian. I hope the two of you choose a name for your baby that you both like after having a lot of discussions about it. My obsession with names aside, once the baby arrives, the special bond between parents and baby and the overwhelming love that you will have for baby takes precedence over the name you choose. Sheila and I both feel like "Asher" suits our little guy perfectly, but I have a feeling we would say that about any name we had gone with.
At Asher's favorite place these days, the Strong Start class at Malaspina, one of his little friends goes by the name of Princess. She is just shy of 2 years old, has blonde hair, with big blue eyes, the type that seem to follow you as she observes you. She is very cute, and the name Princess just seems perfect for her. It's a unique name, and due to my curious mind, I had been wondering for weeks about it. She comes to the program with her nanny, but I didn't want to offend by asking about the origins of the name. I was signing Asher in one morning and noticed that she had been signed in as "Aaralyn/Princess". So, as we helped the kids I brought up the name thing, and as it turns out, Princess became Princess by simply acting like a Princess. Her nanny had taken to calling her that because of her demeanor and it stuck. There is nothing wrong with her given name but Princess just suits her perfectly. Normally, I am a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to given names, but a little girl lucky enough to have a very nice given name and a perfectly suited nickname is a lucky girl indeed.
At work the other day over coffee myself and a co-worker were discussing what led us to working in the field that we do. As it turns out, we were both the recipients of bullying and intimidation in our younger days. My co-worker is more middle-aged then I, and it seems the treatment he recieved was much harsher. From what I can see, he overcame this and became a caring, well-rounded person. This had me wondering though, perhaps my obsession with names leads back to my time being bullied in high school. I've experienced the power of name-calling first hand. While my work can be dull at times, the position of support I can provide for the guys who work with is fulfilling.
High school really is the home base of the personal name calling type of insult. It has been years since I can recall being the target of a personal attack. At University I was taken aback initially by the mostly accepting culture where those from such a wide variety of backgrounds can co-exist peacefully. The default attitude went from prejudging those who were different to more of a curiousity. When I met someone from a different background I always wanted to know more about them. Be it another culture or socio-economic background or otherwise, I didn't have a predetermined outlook on what that person would be like. Often, I wonder if I am too curious, and too open with others. Maybe to the point of being annoying. In the end, I can't do a whole lot to change that. It's the way I am.
Names are a large part of life. My focus of today's writing was largely on names of people, but all things we come across in life have been named, and often these names that things or people have been given influence the way we look at them. Whether it be the name of a band, or a television show or movie, we are likely to draw conclusions about the content or style of something based on the name that they have. Self-given names are usually less telling, but if something or someone has had a name bestowed on them by others, say Princess for instance, you are likely to get more of an idea of that person's nature or that band's style.
What ultimately prompted me to write this content was a comment a friend gave me about my previous series of posts. Having my material called boring shouldn't shock me, as people do have varying tastes. Having my content called boring publicly was a bit more surprising. While I know the comment wasn't meant as a personal attack, I initially took it that way. My blog, being that the content comes from my mind, is an extension of me in a way. My blog being insulted, felt like an attack on my person. I know that I am sensitive to "put downs", but it was very reassuring that another friend then defended my content. It goes without saying that those that are bored by this blog need not read it, but things aren't always that simple. I want people to speak their mind just as I do, even though the results may not be pleasant or heartwarming. Ultimately I want to thank both guys for being honest and truthful, not to mention that the exchange spawned another post boring, intriguing or otherwise.
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