We all have mountains to climb

MountainTo some it may sound sad to hear, but 1984 was the peak of my running career. Yes, that’s 30 years ago, so it might sound a bit wistful to proclaim that something so far in the past was a high point in life.

There are hard facts that define that observation. A runner peaks in their 20s. It takes years of training to get to that point in life, and then there are a few peak years to act on your training and run your best. Some continue well into their 30s, and quality performances are still possible. Carlos Lopes won the 1984 Olympic marathon at the age of 37.

So I am not saying that what I did by effectively closing out my competitive running career in 9186 at the age of 28 was the right thing to do. It was just the right thing for me to do.

The reasons were many. I recognized in myself a propensity to be a bit too obsessed with my running. From the age of 13 through the age of 27, that’s fourteen years of life, running had been at the center of all my objectives. In high school it became a year-round activity. That continued through college with 100-mile training weeks and perpetual competition from cross country through indoor and outdoor track. Then came summer base training. All that was a commitment that had its place and time.

There were sacrifices however. As a result of my commitment I missed opportunities in high school to raft down the Rio Grande during spring break. And in college when art classes made trips to Malta or beyond, I was locked into the track and cross country cycle pretty solid.

That meant when a family came along in my late 20s it felt like the right time to shift priorities to other things. Yes I continued running. Sometimes I raced, but usually the results were off peak. Even in 1986 and 1987 I managed times in the low 33s for 10k.

Yet something had indeed change. Perhaps you’ve experienced moments in life as well where the activities that once dominated your entire persona somehow feel different. It can happen all of a sudden, or it can take time to set in. Perhaps you achieve a goal and move on. Or perhaps it’s much more subtle than that. You simply share more time with different kinds of people.

It’s like we’re climbing the mountain of life in any regard. Sometimes the trail is steep and difficult, challenging and thrilling. Other times you’re simply trying to avoid the rocks.

I remember what my brother once told me before a 20 year high school reunion. “You’ll like this one best of all. By now everyone’s had their ass kicked at least once.”

It’s the same way with running, riding and swimming. On the way to success or achieving a goal there are always days that don’t go so well.

The photo accompanying this blog is from the top of a saddle in the Maroon Bells outside Aspen, Colorado. We’d taken a summer road trip through Kansas and up to Colorado. With just $500 to spend, we kept it simple, camping along the way.

Our hike to 12,800 feet in the mountains took a couple hours. Yet I was so fit it felt good to trot up the trail and have my photo taken on top of the world. There would be many peaks and valleys to come. We all have mountains to climb. Sometimes more than one. That’s why events like the Tour de France are so compelling. Character is defined and revealed in the mountains. We can’t always predict how our bodies and minds will respond when put under the pressure to climb, or to crack.

I know I’m still climbing, and always will. Perhaps you feel the same way.

Yet we love the thin air and the feeling that everything around is so real. So evident. So stark, and so rare at the same time.

That’s why we go to the mountains. That’s the way we live our lives.

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A childish fascination with endurance training and bodily functions

In order to get your Monday off to a rollickingly childish start, you are invited to click and view this scene from an Austin Powers movie in which our hero engages in a prolonged urination session. Yes, it’s childish. And yes, I’m childish for posting it. Austin Powers pee session

That guy Mike Meyers made millions by being childish. His extended punch lines about penises and elaborate coverups substituting melons for breasts are the stuff of lowbrow legend.

But perhaps it’s all funny because that sort of humor mimics some of the funner aspects of real life. We all know circumstance can be oddly inappropriate and hilariously funny.

This all got working in my mind this morning because I got up from a good night’s sleep and went to pee. My dog jumped up eagerly because he thought I was going to let him out to go pee himself. Only I stood there for a while taking care of business. It took so long that my dog actually barked at me.

I started laughing and things started to shake and it was all I could do to keep the target in sights. That made the dog bark again and I lost it. Fortunately the main event was over.

But that got me thinking about stopping to pee during workouts. If you’re a guy you can pull over into the weeds or woods, whip it out and let fly. Of course sometimes it doesn’t happen as quickly as you’d like. The brain is willing but the bladder is shy, or stubborn. Too cold or seized up in some kind of protest about having to hold it so long.

And that’s what you’re thinking about the group or training partner disappearing around the next bend while you try to actually pee. “So long!” Then you have to sprint to catch up. That’s when the hilarious drama of having to pee is not so funny.

My gal friends have numerous stories about squatting together during emergencies. That whole frog squat thing is lost on those of us of the male gender. Whipping your shorts or kit or other outfits down to your knees and airing it out is only necessary for guys when Number 2 comes roaring on.

Of course we’ve all been there a few times. At that moment you curse Ladybird Johnson for her anti-litter campaigns. You’d give just about anything for a few shreds of a McDonald’s bag.

But of course there is no real shortage of litter out there. Despite all our best efforts there are still tons of garbage floating around our landscape. Which makes you realize that by comparison taking a crap that will decompose in a few days is no great sin in this world.

It would be a problem if everyone did it. That’s a fact. The volumes of human excrement flowing through our nation’s sewage systems is mind-boggling. One could argue that the most important invention of the human race is not the airplane or the atom bomb. It is the sewage treatment plan.

We’re all sooo glad when out training to find a Porta Pottie or restroom when it is most, vitally needed. A few weeks ago while training I felt the urge and pulled into an office for the Red Cross in St. Charles, Illinois. Putting on my most humble, needful face, I asked if they had a public restroom. “No, I’m sorry. We don’t,” the woman stated flatly.

And I thought: “Red Cross is supposed to help out in emergencies.”

So I was forced to use the woods just up the road. And I was all set to drop Trousers and take care of business when I noticed that the building behind the railroad tracks was tall enough to afford a full window view of my position.

Not wanted to end up on YouTube, I huddled down the opposite bank trying to appear inconspicuous despite my bright green running jacket.

If runners and cyclists were honest with themselves, they would be wearing camouflage, not fluorescent clothing. When forced to lurk in woods to urinate or defecate it seems the better strategy would be one of those camo suits used by hunters to disappear into the woods. You know the kind. All woodsy-patterned and bearing frills that looks like loose vegetation. That way we could all be cryptically hidden when nature calls.

You may call the idea of wearing camo gear for running and riading impractical.  Yet last winter for the Sno Fun Run there were several entrants wearing camo outfits to run the 5 mile race. Of course this was in Wisconsin, where contradictory behavior and earthy stupidity is considered a high art form.
House on the RockThat explains the horrific architecture of the House on the Rock, which also happens to be one of the shittiest pieces of architecture ever created. The House On the Rock designer once asked Frank Lloyd Wright, whose Taliesin home stands right up the road, if he could work with him in some way. Wright responded, “I would not hire you to design a chicken coop.”

That’s pretty funny. And it makes me realize that I am no genius on par with a Frank Lloyd Wright. Perhaps it’s my childishness that holds me back. Who knows is Frank Lloyd Wright enjoyed a good fart joke, or hung his ass over one of his cantilevered walls to flop a dump down on the rocks below. Those of us that enjoy the absolutely childishness of such things, and the antics of our friends? Perhaps we’re more like the guy that designed the House on the Rock and filled it with collections of the most amazingly useless crap you have ever laid eyes upon.

Somewhere up in heaven or down in hell the guy that designed The House on the Rock is having a good laugh at all our expense. Along with Mike Meyers in Austin Powers, he recognized the people find joy in the most childish things. There’s a lesson in that for all of us. We just don’t know what the hell it is.

So we all keep running and riding and laughing at the pitiable circumstance and circumscription of our bodily functions. And what’s the harm in that? We’re all just kids inside these grownup bodies.

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5 Hippity Hoppity Hints to Get Faster This Spring

WeRunandRideBunnySpeedHere my friends are some valuable tips on becoming a faster runner. All provided to you by the Easter Bunny, a truly credible source of information.

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The devolution of the Clif Bar (and other things we eat)

Clif BarObviously I use the term “devolution” loosely in today’s blog title. Technically the word has political roots. As in: “the transfer or delegation of power to a lower level, especially by central government to local or regional administration.”

Well, the Clif Bar is pretty important to those of us who cycle and run. It ostensibly gives us power when we need it. That’s why we tuck them in cycling jersey pockets and nibble them before and after rides. Those yummy flavors. What is your favorite?

Their portability is also a calculated aspect of their benefit. You can generally pull them out of your cycling kit pocket, bite open the wrapper and gnaw away a portion to chew while still moving at 23 mph. What better solution to hungry and nutrients is there on the planet.

There’s just one problem as far as I can see. And it may be my imagination but it seems that the Clif Bars you buy at any store have shrunk a bit over the years. It’s a trend with almost everything you buy. You pay a bit more for a bit less product.

Has anyone tried to purchase a can of nuts lately? Of course we have. We stand there in the nut aisle (pun intended) wondering if it is worth spending $6.99 for a simple jar of peanuts, cashews, or whatever. Almonds? Forget it. They’re more expensive than gold.

It’s that way with anything that actually constitutes REAL FOOD. That stuff is expensive. You’ll notice it’s the processed stuff that you can buy 2 for $5.00. They figure that garbage will hold us until we get so hungry for real nutrients we are forced back into the store, slavering and achingly hollow, to buy that $15,99 jar of mixed nuts.

So it’s either buy the processed stuff or empty your bank account for an ever-shrinking litany of less product for your money. Have you noticed that even peanut butter jars are the size of Campbell Soup cans these days. Yet they cost the same. It’s a painfully grand illusion that what you spend at the grocery story (generally $100 minimum even for one person) is actually keeping you alive.

Clif BarWith all these products shrinking away before our eyes, it would take a massive consumer revolution to force companies to give us more for our money. Yet if we knew what it takes to bring a product to market; the harvesting or killing, the processing, preservatives, packaging, shipping, marketing and product placement, we’d wonder why there is any food on the store shelves at all.

And that’s because we want it all so damned convenient. Even organic products (if they are truly organic, which is questionable) have to feed into this massive food delivery machine we call an economy. It’s all necessary for purposes of commerce, safety and sexiness in our food.

Yes, we like our food sexy just like we like our movie stars and newscaster. American culture is a consumer society. We eat and we stare and we absorb our visual and auditory and edible diet with verve. Then we share it all on social media so more people can stare and eat some more.

That’s why we’re helpless at 9:00 p.m. when a craving takes over after a hard day at work and a hard workout to boot. We stumble into the kitchen and grab a bag of Kettle Chips and gnaw them down like a pika in a mountain rock crevice. In human terms that’s a couch, in case you had not gathered.

And we’re typically always a little fatter for the fault of our weakness. Or so it feels. So we rise up and grab our bikes or go for a run again in hopes of staving off the fat from carbs that comes from ingesting those Kettle chips. Then we carry with us a tiny little Clif Bar  in case we run out of fuel.

Pizza in OvenAnd that’s the absurd little dance we do with these products and the way we process and consume our food.

The dietitian in our triathlon club does not quite succumb to all this. Last week she dined on a Tupperware tin full of something she called “overnight oats.” It had cocoa powder woven into the mix and it looked delicious. I think there was fruit in there too. She’s always eating real food like that. Carrots for breakfast I bet.

But I haven’t seen her husband lately. Perhaps he starved to death during a 10-mile run. If you find someone like that by the side of the road, be kind and offer them your Clif Bar. It’s not much, and it may not save their life. But it’s the right thing to do.

Just don’t be surprised if in their dying throes, that runner or cyclist turns to you and moans, “I only eat Coconut Chocolate Chip. Do you have one of those?”

Because we all have our favorites. And we’ll stick with them till our dying day.

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We must cultivate our garden

Curve of BermThis spring in making preparations for expansion of our butterfly garden, I dug into the soil of our back yard and created a berm that follows the course of the raised bed flower garden. As I stood last night studying the work, it struck me that there was a natural flow to that curve. I’d seen it somewhere before. Many times in fact.

It had the same angle of curvature as a running track. In fact there was a now a lane of matted grass that led to the path coursing into our neighbor’s back yard.

“Perfect,” I muttered.

As I’ve written before, gardening is a wonderful compliment to the mobile world of running and cycling. If you’re looking for a little extra sweat and some work with the arms and lower back, gardening can even be a workout. In truth it often is.

Nothing worth doing is easy

Because it’s a plain fact of life. Nothing worth doing is easy. Yes, there are “easy” days in training, but you’re still doing some work. The “hard” days are designed to make the easy days feel even easier. Recently my companion Sue finished a 13-mile training run and felt smooth and strong the entire way. That is a direct product of her work on the indoor track this winter. We covered many curves and straights on that track. The track is like a garden in some respects. We plant seeds of effort and come race day harvest the fruits of those efforts.

Track TurnNot everyone likes working out on a track. The absolutes are too fierce. The times are too crisp. The track can be unforgiving. Or so it seems. My backdoor neighbor kid runs both cross country and track. He confided to me that he loves cross country. But track? Not so much.

Track is so…analog in some ways. There is no doubt much beauty in the math of it. But as someone who nearly flunked algebra and got a B in geometry, I’m one that goes for the visual shapes rather than the abstract formulas of existence.

The mathematical absolutes of track and field were pretty much hard work and very little seeming reward in return. In track the race either goes well and you get a good time or your finish up dissatisfied with some aspect of your performance. Your coach can hold up a watch and say, with certainty, “You were three seconds slower than last week.”

Running through the Garden

Not so much in cross country, where variables in courses and times don’t mean so much. Cross country is in some ways like running through a garden. There is a primeval, Garden of Eden quality we tend to imagine in the sport. There are trees and hills and knotty roots to jump over. It’s an organic experience. Even with courses erected on flat paths and through dry urban parks, we still return to nature when we run cross country.

Some of us thrive on that. Competing in forest preserves and parks gives us a feeling of liberty. It’s not the kind of liberty you need to pass a law to protect. Real liberty comes from hard effort and an appreciation from everything in your surroundings.

Garden liberation

Crocus in Spring LightWhich is why gardening is a liberating endeavor. The light plays through the early spring branches to catch the bright petals of a crocus in bloom and we’re reminded: It’s not all about you. Yes, you can run and ride and breathe the air, but without the rest of the universe against which to measure your existence, you mean nothing at all.

Oh I know that certain religious types will tell you that I have the formula backwards. They’ll tell you that human beings are the ultimate expression and abstraction of God. But according to the Bible itself, they’re wrong. They get the message of the Garden of Eden wrong and by proxy they get the rest of the Bible wrong as well.

By focusing on the literal, finite moments of creation as an absolute, they ignore and miss the rest of creation in action. They cannot conceive the connection between human beings and the rest of creation. For that reason, they must insist they own the world and can do anything they please if it suits their fancies. Otherwise, they have no relationship to the place at all. And they claim that God planned it that way. They claim that God is incapable of evolution. They claim that there is such as thing as irreducible complexity. They claim that nature cannot work things out on its own.

Being honest with ourselves

But let’s be honest with ourselves. Most of the people who claim to have read the Bible think they have it figured out but haven’t a clue about what it really says in there. For God’s sake, even the disciples had trouble understanding the basic parables of Jesus, who challenged and criticized them for missing the primary methods of his ministry. “Are you so dull?” he asked his disciples when they complained that Jesus was using too many metaphors.

Eve and SatanThat’s how stupid some people can be. So instead,  some parrot what they’re told to believe, and do it aggressively. Others treat scripture as if it were some type of homogenous garden in which only certain kinds of plants can grow. But here’s the basic fact: if you claim to believe in God as Creator, then you have to accept that God created it all.

Every last expression of creation, from virus to pathogen, from eagle to ant, is part of nature. Some of it seems to benefit us, while other afflictions of body and soul such as cancer or disease seem the bane of our existence.

But here are some other hard truths. Life itself is a pre-existing condition. One could arguably make the case that life is a paradox in creation. We know from science that 99% of all living things that once existed on earth are now extinct. Gone forever. Tossed into the “bad plant bin” of history. Pulled up like weeds and discarded. Bye bye to most of the dinosaurs (although birds still persist) and most other forms of living things. To God, they were all disposable tools in the process of evolution. Are human beings next in line? That remains, to some degree, to be determined by our own actions.

Salvation

We can learn a few things from the concept of ourselves as living in a garden.

For one thing, plants that seem like a weed to one person may be a salvation to another. There are scientists combing the deep recesses of jungles to find plants and animals that might provide cures for illness and disease. And yet there are people so ignorant of these possibilities they see fit to log and burn those jungles for a year or two of wood harvest or farming on soil poorly designed for such endeavors.

Meanwhile as a race we’re pumping our atmosphere full of excess carbon dioxide at a scale that exceeds the earth’s abilities to process it as waste. Yet there are people who deny this possibility on religious grounds that only God can effect ill on creation. The same people tend to view the problem in economic terms as well, saying that it is too expensive to tend the very garden of our existence.

Killing monarchs

Monarch scalesHere’s what’s happening out there in the world right now. Farmers pay billions of dollars and spread gazillions of gallons of herbicides and pesticides in efforts to wipe out milkweed and insects in their fields. The byproduct of all that chemical fury is a decline in species like the monarch butterfly. Now in response to this butterfly genocide, people are rallying by planting milkweed in their home gardens to provide a place for monarch butterflies to safely breed.

That’s the tradition our family is carrying on in our household. For years we’ve raised and released monarchs by growing milkweed, harvesting eggs on leaves and protecting the caterpillars until they go through the chrysalis stage and emerge as butterflies.

The toothpaste paradigm

But think about that process or ranching monarchs and its significance. The reason it’s so necessary is that human activity in one sector of the environment is causing unanticipated damage in another. The human race can become so focused on one objective it completely fails to comprehend its impact on the environment or the human dynamic that depends on it. We’re squeezing all the natural toothpaste out of the tube. But when the toothpaste is gone, what will we have left? It’s happening in our oceans. Our old growth forests. These stores of natural diversity and environmental balance are being harvested for short term benefits. We can squeeze and frack and flood the environment with pathogens for just so long. At some point we have to find a way to share the world that does not require squeezing it all out like toothpaste from a tube. Roll it up. Hide the evidence. Toss it in the trash and hope no one sees it or finds out about your selfishness.

Sharing the world

The paradigm extends into the world of running and riding. We regularly encounter drivers who hate the fact that we share the road with their vehicles. The mere existence of a cyclist on the road drives some people to distraction.

It used to be the same way with runners. I lived that reality in the 1970s. Drivers have through time become accustomed to seeing runners along the road. But it wasn’t always that way. I was struck by beer cans and buzzed by joyriders and commuters alike back in the early days of the running boom.

It takes time

Illustration from the book Candide.

Illustration from the book Candide.

So it takes time for human society to adapt. That’s the problem with the short time frame and confined environment presented in a literal interpretation of the book of Genesis in the Bible. The arrival of sin in this world is presented as if it were somehow dumped here like a big bag of tacks on a garden trail. There’s no room in that clipped narrative to appreciate the fact that human beings are capable of making good decisions too.

Sometimes it takes a while for the truth to sneak up on people. Other times it hits them in the face abruptly. Yet in both circumstances, people do learn from experience. Otherwise faith itself has no meaning.

In the famously scandalous book Candide by Voltaire, the hero goes through massive hardships and develops an almost cynical view of life. But in the end, the realization of one fact is profound. “We must cultivate our garden,” the book concludes.

That means taking our experiences seriously enough to realize that our existential awareness is critical to our well-being. While a book like Candide seems to slander religion in its lusty portrayal of life, in fact it affirms much of what we find in scripture. The Bible depicts many gritty truths, in which women cravenly (and mistakenly) lust for men with genitals the size of donkeys and kings covetously steal the wives of men in their service. Women drive tent pegs through the brains of their kings and men like David ask to build a temple in God’s honor only to be told that despite their obedience in carrying out God’s own directives for genocide, they now have too much blood on their hands.

A tricky relationship with God

These are the gritty facts of life: that the Garden of Eden was in fact a deception of God from the beginning. Satan exposed that falsehood of the tree of knowledge by revealing its true meaning, and that made God pretty damned angry in the process.

Some preachers like to pretend they're God.

Some preachers like to pretend they’re an angry God.

The language that follows in the Bible is all anger and recrimination. God takes out his fury on the human race. Women are cursed with pain in childbirth. Men are forced to earn their keep through laboring on the earth. The God we see in these passages is not one of love and mercy. We instead find a harshly competitive God. One who goes on to tease and test poor souls like Job with actual bets against Satan that Job can remain virtuous in tests of will and faith. Finally God allows his own son to be murdered to atone for the sins of mankind.

Or so goes the narrative. In fact the lesson of the Passion story holds forth a political lesson that should not be missed lest we miss the message of the entire Bible.The death of Christ at the hands of manipulative priests reveals that the brand of legalism and literalism first used by Satan to trick Eve is still alive in the world. It’s not the Jews who are at fault in all that. It is everyone and anyone that uses the devices of “Satan” to trick and lure people into situations of control, intolerance and abuse at the hands of those in power. That’s your true Easter story right there.

What God hates most in this world is manipulation of believers in his name. That’s what Satan did. That’s what the Pharisees and other ‘priests of power’ were doing.  That’s what’s still happening to this day. God doesn’t hate sinners so much as he hates those who try to control the world and its processes for their own advantage. Can we now talk about why the law passed in Indiana is egregious? 

More truth spake in jest

The Bible and Candide––seemingly philosophical opposites in nature–have far more in common with each other than one might think. Both books immerse readers in a world where chaos seems to reign.

It is therefore no coincidence that people such as those who run and ride (and engage in feats of personal suffering for the sake of enlightenment) should learn a little about what it really means to live. Surely we congratulate ourselves with labels and symbols designate our levels of sacrifice. Marathon. Ironman. Ultramarathon. Cyclist. Century. Ride Across America. All these are singular attempts to seek both dimension and understanding of our lives. While we love our endeavors in running, riding and swimming, we should always keep in mind that there is more to life than even these.

Don’t get me wrong. There is no shame or sin in exploring pain and glory. Candide shows us that just as the Bible does. But both the Bible and Candide agree on one thing in the end: We must cultivate our garden. 

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April is the cruel and fickle month

SnowdropsPrint

Snowdrops. An original painting by Christopher Cudworth

There’s a reason why the month of April aptly starts off with a day called April Fool’s Day. People playing tricks on each other is just an imitation of what April does to us all.

Those of us who run and ride know better than anyone how cruel and fickle the month of April can be. Even on a given run or ride it is possible to experience all four seasons in the space of an hour. I know. I’ve been there. Done that. Started out in a 72 degree day with southerly breezes. Felt winds shift to the north and east and pick up speed. Feel the first shreds of rain pummeling the nylon and finally seeing snow come tumbling down by the end of the run or ride.

That’s how April works. It cares not what you think the weather should be. It only cares to express itself, as if both a hot cheerleader and a Goth bitch were lurking inside her soul. You’ll never know what you’re gonna get until you get there.

There are daffodils poking through the mulch even as there are gray clouds beating back the sandhill cranes flapping for all they’re worth to make progress north. And if you dare challenge April with something so bold as a 70-mile bike ride, there’s no telling how cold or hot you might be before you finish.

Window Snowblock 3In college I had a running joke (no pun intended) with a teammate. In fall we’d have a nice day outside and I’d blurt, “Yeah, we’re not gonna have weather like this until April 10th.”

Don’t know why I selected that particular date. It just seemed right. My teammate would shake his head and mutter, “Cudworth, you’re a trip.”

But I was right most of the time. April 10 is just far enough away from the month of March that a 70 or 80 degree day is quite possible.

Of course some Aprils were so cold it never got above 60 degrees. Those were years we’d grow frustrated. A bunch of us decided to protest this karmic injustice by stripping naked and running through the college cafeteria yelling, “The weather sucks! We want spring!”

Only one guy hesitated when we streaked the union. Separated from the group, he was captured and strapped to a support column in the middle of the cafeteria.

And that was no April Fool’s joke. It took him a while to wriggle free. All the while his already chilled unit was shrinking from both cold air and embarrassment.

We didn’t know what to tell him. Obviously he was infuriated at the genesis of the incident. “Why didn’t you guys wait?” he demanded to know.

“Why didn’t you come with us?” we shouted in return.

snowwomanhotmessWell, the month of April can be like that. Full of ugly choices and cold consequences.

One of our long runs turned into an April slog when the skies erupted. Our cotton sweats soaked up the rain. We gained seven extra pounds during a 13-mile run. The crotch of the sweats was down at our knees. Talk about training resistance.

And I recall a steeplechase race in early April when a skim of ice had to be chopped off the face of the water jump. The first time through that water was colllllld.

Yet the very next week we were competing in a meet down at Grinnell College when the temps reached the mid-80s. 18 guys started the 5000 meter run at 3:30 in the afternoon. One by one our runners pulled off and gathered at the first curve to cheer on the remaining fools who stayed in the race. I was one of them, and can avidly recall flipping them all the bird as they laughed and cheered my sweaty, skinny frame all the way through to the last lap. I barely broke 16:00.

In recent years my cycling has always ramped up in April. One cool (45 degrees) dark morning a pack of 15 guys took off riding straight into a northwest wind. I tucked in behind some triathlete with a strong frame and sat in the draft for 30 miles. When we turned around I was excited to think I’d made it through the tough part of the ride. The pack had different ideas. The pace accelerated to 30 mph and it was either pedal like a madman or get dropped. I made it six miles before popping.

That left me alone for the last 25 miles of a 70-mile ride. It felt to good finish with an average pace of just over 20 miles. That was a ride well-earned.

Chuck with LambsApril truly is a watershed of fitness and hope. It can build you up or dash you down. Every new endeavor is an experiment with what you’ve managed to sustain over the winter and the dispassionate reality of the cold and sometimes lonely road up ahead.

Thank God there are flowers in the garden when you get home. Whether you’ve won or lost the battle that day, there is always hope for better days.

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Getting checked from the inside out

Understanding your colon isn't that hard. There's a lot of s*** going on down there.

Understanding your colon isn’t that hard. There’s a lot of s*** going on down there.

For a variety of reasons having to do with caregiving for a wife with cancer the last eight years, some of my own health monitoring took a back seat, so to speak.

So it is high time to get the lowdown with a colonoscopy. You know the drill. Drink the juice. Crap your brains out for 48 hours to cleanse your colon. Then the doctor goes up there with scope to check for polyps and remove them.

My eldest brother lectured me a year ago about the importance of getting the procedure done. See, the stuff that lies around in our colons and intestinal tract can be toxic stuff. “What?” in intoned. “You’ve never eaten a Slim Jim?”

Prep work

The interesting aspect of going through this procedure is that the preparation sort of works in reverse of what you’d expect. For the last week or so before the scope goes in you’re supposed to avoid high fiber foods or anything else that might stick around and interferes with the doctor’s ability to see polyps.

Basically scoping the colon is like playing a video game in which the physician wanders through the piping picking off the enemy. Hopefully they don’t find anything too large, which could indicate a growth containing cancer. That’s also how cancers escape from the colon to invade the rest of the body. To coin a phrase, you don’t want that kind of crap going on.

It’s pretty easy to take our intestinal tract for granted. That is, until you have trouble with it. People who run and ride and swim have an intensified relationship with their bowels. They must be moved before a workout or competition lest we face (and I do not choose that word lightly) the consequences.

Race dumps

The most urgent need in the world before a race is to take a dump. You don’t want to be distracted by that pressing feeling of Turtlehood impinging on your race efforts. Because when it comes, and it often does if you’re at all regular in the Dumper Department, there is almost no stopping it.

We’ve all been forced to pull it over and take care of business. If you’re lucky you’re near a gas station. There happens to be just such a station on our winter running route for Experience Triathlon. That station’s employees and management are some of the nicest, most tolerant businesspeople in the world. They watch a regular parade of runners going in and out of their station, not buying a thing, and using their restaurant.

Crappy laws

I made this graphic to illustrate Indiana's view of itself versus reality.

I made this graphic to illustrate Indiana’s view of itself versus reality.

It brings to mind the recent case of discrimination put into law with Indiana Bill 101. If that business chooses to discriminate against runners by not allowing them to use their restaurant, there will be hundreds of people each day who suffer from that decision. Absolutely the owners have a right to limit access to the building for paying customers. We all get that the letter of the law gives business owners all kinds of “rights” to discriminate.

Yet the community spirit that business shows in serving runners in need is evidence that social tolerance can and does work for good. It so happens that station owner is from either India or Pakistan. I have not asked. But I have conversed with him and expressed gratitude on behalf of all the runners that come through his door with their ass cheeks pinched together. “It’s very nice of you to allow us to use your restroom,” I told him. “I’m going to come fill up my gas tank here one of these days to return the favor.”

Having real faith

I think it’s interesting that there’s a religious connection of sorts here as well. For 18 years my late wife taught Pre-K at the Christian preschool at our church. At times there would be people of other faiths or no faith at all that enrolled their children in the school. Some protested when teachers taught their children about faith. It’s like they did not get the concept that a Christian preschool would actually talk about the life of Jesus.

Yet there were several people of East Indian background that enrolled their children in the preschool. Some were Hindu. At one point my wife had the opportunity ask one of these mothers if it bothered her that her child was being taught about Christianity. “There are many paths to God,” she replied.

Indeed there are. Of course come devout Christians would argue that the Christian faith is bound by the words of Jesus to view him as the only path to salvation. Yet even Jesus had something to say about turning the faith of love into law. It happens to tie together quite closely with our theme of the day––which is what comes out of your rear end.

10 Jesus called the crowd to him and said, “Listen and understand. 11 What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them.”

12 Then the disciples came to him and asked, “Do you know that the Pharisees were offended when they heard this?”

13 He replied, “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be pulled up by the roots. 14 Leave them; they are blind guides.[d] If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit.”

15 Peter said, “Explain the parable to us.”

16 “Are you still so dull?” Jesus asked them. 17 “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body? 18 But the things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them.19 For out of the heart come evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. 20 These are what defile a person; but eating with unwashed hands does not defile them.”

The Bible does not avoid even the earthiest of topics. In fact it calls us closer to the earth. Jesus taught using parables dependent on organic symbolism. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind…”

His disciples questioned him about these methods. And I paraphrase… “Why do you teach using parables?” they asked him. “Why not just tell them straight up what you mean?”

Jesus responded, “Are you so dull?”

The heart of the matter

The Bible explains: “Jesus told the crowds all these things in parables; without a parable he told them nothing. This was to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet: “I will open my mouth to speak in parables; I will proclaim what has been hidden from the foundation of the world.”

In other words, the Bible and scripture are never to be understood out of the context of the fullness of creation. Even the shit that comes out of our asses has a tale to tell, a lesson to give. And especially if you’re talking shit because you don’t understand the true roots of faith, the organic connection with all the world and how love functions within it, then you are separated from the real roots of heaven. That’s what Jesus told the Pharisees. He revealed their falsehood from the inside out.

Indiana Bill 101

That’s what’s going on in Indiana and other places these days. Modern day Pharisees with their holier than thou attitudes, seeking to impose a so-called Christian will on the nation in the name of so-called religious liberty, are breaching the very foundations of faith with laws of intolerance and misguided politics. They are also spitting on the Constitution and telling us that it’s raining righteousness.

Here’s why I’m so cynical about efforts to install religious liberty laws. It’s no different than the flaws found in affirmative action. It’s an imperfect to attempt to promote equality. I get the need to protect religious rights, but there’s the ugly truth. The people so often fighting for those rights have the ugliest interpretation of faith possible.

These include creationists trying to deny science based on no scientific evidence at all asw well as people seeking to install intelligent design as an equal alternative to the theory of evolution. This is not religious freedom. It is ignorance as an ideology.

That goes for people claiming there is a gay or black or women’s agenda when all those people want is equal protection to live freely under the law.

Scripture denies the right to impose your version of religion on others

So we’ll put it plainly here. We’ve already illustrated our point using a parable from the Bible that explains why shitting on other people to make yourself feel better, or to confer social advantage, is a lousy, sinful thing to do.

Indiana Bill 101 is a bad idea. It’s not Christian. It’s not moral. It’s not Constitutional. It’s not respectful. It’s not a sign of “religious freedom” but a symptom of religious abuse. It’s not American.

Where the sun don’t shine

So Indiana can take that law and shove it right back up their ass where the sun don’t shine. And if they’re lucky, maybe a doctor will send a scope up there and excise the egregious tumor of intolerance it represents. Zealotry of that nature is a cancer upon the nation. It’s no coincidence that a bunch of assholes thought it up and turned into law. That’s what assholes do. Even Jesus knew that.

As for the fear of homosexuality and claims that being gay is against the laws of nature? Jesus said nothing at all in the Bible about being gay or not. He was opposed to sexual immorality, yes. The Bible regularly preaches against wanton sexuality. Gays are subject to the same standards as straight people when it comes to that sort of behavior.

But that’s not where efforts to approve gay marriage are headed. We’re moving toward a normalization, as it were, of gay relationships. Where’s the sin in that?

Modern day Sodomites: Not who you think

hi-sawmill-fire-100440-852Significantly, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah was not about gay sex, but about immoral abuse of other people in a town where laws stated that it was okay to discriminate and abuse strangers. Sodom had laws that said you could rape and abuse strangers found after twilight. Nice huh?

That’s essentially the discriminatory nature of what is happening in states like Indiana today, where anyone considered “the other” is fair game for ostracization.

But let’s remember something critical and biblical: God took action against Sodom not because of gay sex, but because of laws allowing abuse of the rights of strangers.

Not a clue

That’s all lost on the modern day Sodomites who view themselves as above the real lessons of scripture. Always on the lookout for a scapegoat or a victim on which they focus their falsely righteous rage, they cannot see, just like the Pharisees and the Sodomites, that the laws they pass to discriminate are what God hates most in this world. That’s true from the inside out as well as the outside in.

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Find out what happens when you Google Goggles (for swim and otherwise…)

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It’s hard to tell conspiracy theories from the truth in athletics, and more

Lance-Armstrong-bleeds-fr-003Back when Lance Armstrong was riding away from the other doping cyclists, rumors and conspiracies about doping were rampant. Fans wanted to believe the sport was clean. People wanted the Legend of Lance to be true. Cancer victim comes back to win Tour de France seven times! It doesn’t get any better than that.

Well, the conspiracies all turned out to be true. The lies ran all the way up to the top of the sport.

But it was a house of cards. For years Lance was the Rainmaker for the entire sport of cycling. His personal brand brought millions of sponsorship dollars into cycling and everyone benefited. But it was all very much like war profiteering. The ends justified the means. And that meant everyone doped because if you couldn’t keep up, you could not get your piece of the Lance Armstrong pie.

Paradigms

It’s often said that sports is a paradigm for the rest of humanity. The triumphs and failures are a form of art imitating life. We love it when our heroes succeed. We suffer when they fail. The vicarious nature of human beings wants to know that acting like a hero begets some sort of good in this world.

As the years roll by people are coming to appreciate that the great conspiracy of Lance Armstrong was a plot even stranger than fiction. By the time he finally came clean (pun intended) it was not exactly shocking. The truth was staring most of us in the face all along. A ton of other cyclists from Lance Armstrong’s era had already been caught or confessed. A map of the podium finishers in front and immediately behind Lance was like a rogue’s gallery of cycling busts. So the conspiracy, as it were, was no longer secret. Everyone was doping because everyone had to dope just to participate in the sport.

A world of dopers and dopes

So much of the world also works that way. People go along to get along with the powers that be. They’re paid (sometimes quite well) to keep their mouths shut. And if the conspiracy is important enough, people lose their lives when they threaten to expose the truth.

Of course some people lose their lives as the result of conspiracies in the first place. One of the greatest conspiracies in American history is the killing of John F. Kennedy and his brother Robert. No one with a brain in their head believes any longer that Lee Harvey Oswald was the lone shooter. Decades of research by investigators of all political stripes have also exposed the sham that was the Warren Commission. It’s quite obvious now that people within our own government, in collaboration with mafia and possibly CIA help pulled off a grand execution and then covered it up. LBJ was likely in on it to some degree, but so perhaps was George Herbert Walker Bush, then of the CIA.

Conspiracies about Kennedy’s death long felt like false claims that anyone other than Oswald was responsible for the killing that day in Dallas. America could not deal with the idea that people could be so evil as to assassinate a popular president. But it happened. And stuff like that continues to happen every day.

The root of all evil

Some people see links between that brand of conspiracy and what transpired on the infamous day of 9/11. It’s difficult to comprehend the possibility of that level of conspiratorial action, but it’s obviously not the first time in history men of power have conspired to act out of fury and madness for their own agenda. The mixed up world of war profiteering in World War II included men like Prescott Bush, Joe Kennedy and even Henry Ford selling weapons to the Nazis. Men of power have always conspired to use tragedy for their own profit.

It’s always about the money. That’s what drove Lance Armstrong and so many other cyclists to cheat and defame the sport that fed their pockets and their egos. As it turned out, the Lance Legend, while still impressive for its level of accomplishment, was a conspiracy come true. It has convinced me there is almost always a difficult truth behind the lies we’re fed about events ranging from the Kennedy assassination to 9/11.

When faced with a conspiracy, one of the first questions we all need to ask is; Who is the benefactor? There’s always a reason behind why people do things. Sometimes it’s power. Sometimes it’s money. Sometimes it’s sheer madness. But there’s always a motivation. Sometimes it’s just to gain attention. More often it’s to gain power, prestige or money.

Crazy conspiracies or not?
bigfoot2There are conspiracies that are just plain crazy on the surface. Some people refuse to believe we ever put a man on the moon. Others insist that Paul McCartney was killed in a car accident and was replaced by a talented CIA plant named Faul McCartney.

Many people continue the search for Sasquatch or Bigfoot. There is absolutely no material evidence that such a creature exists. No credible remains have ever been documented. Yet there is a website dedicated to “educating” people about the existence of Bigfoot. Perhaps the idea of a man-beast that is part ape and part human seems to hold appeal for a segment of the populace. Perhaps it’s the hope that the human race has not completely conquered nature after all.

Hubris exposed

Conspiracies tend to focus on that sort of narrative. There’s a hubris afoot in some way, and people want to peel back the arrogant lies and reveal the truth. No one likes to be tricked, and conspiracy theorists hold back no resources when trying to figure out what really happened in this world.

Three Ms

There’s just one problem with conspiracy theory as a world view. It can easily be misdirected, misguided and misanthropic.

For example, there’s an apparently large segment of the American populace that views science as some sort of conspiracy against truth. They regard with suspicion any fact or theory that does not align with the tenets of their own worldview.

Hence we find creationists building a museum in Kentucky whose main mission (funded by millions) is to expose the supposedly false contentions of science and evolution. Their main point is that these secular knowledge tools are designed specifically to counteract the word of God. So these believers do just about anything to counteract the so-called conspiracy that human beings evolved from other life forms over millennia.

In fact the real conspiracy is that people who take the bible literally are simply selective in what they choose to believe and not believe. They also ignore the fact that Jesus Christ himself used much organic symbolism in his teaching, which was dependent on using examples from nature to convey spiritual principles. So creationists technically are conspiring to obscure the actual teaching methods of Jesus and the true foundation of the bible, which is spiritual metaphor.

It’s inconceivable to creationists that evolution is anything other than a conspiracy to defeat faith in a literal bible. Actually what really galls them, and heightens the notion of conspiracy, is that many real scientists care not a lick what people choose to believe about God or spirituality. Those notions have nothing to do with material science. If it can’t be tested and reproduced in practice, then it is not science. And it likely does not exist.

Debunking

That’s the irony in all this. Science is the ultimate debunker of conspiracy theories. Hence the popularity of the cable show Mythbusters. Myths and conspiracy theories have a tangential relationship, you see. People create myths around their most closely held beliefs.

But people also create myths to fool others. That’s what happened with Lance Armstrong. His myth held out for quite a long time before the conspiracy of his doping was exposed, and confessed. In his case it was the corroborative evidence of other witnesses that doomed his mythlike stature. His former teammates blew the conspiracy wide open.

The question we all face when dealing with conspiracies, exposed and otherwise, is how much accountability there should be when it comes to secrets and lies. If a conspiracy is constructed to ostensibly protect a nation’s interests, is it better for the public to ultimately know? And, if a conspiracy is exposed and it is determined that the nation’s best interests were compromised or put at risk, what should the punishment be? Do we simply let conspiracies such as the Reagan-era Iran-Contra affair lay there in history? Or do we call those who perpetrated the actions to account? Usually its a mix of responses. And usually there it is a fall guy, not the top people in power that pay the price.

That’s what makes the Lance Armstrong case rather rare. But even Lance seems to want to tell us he’s not the ultimate kingpin. Someday the true nature of the full cycling conspiracy will come out. Like the Kennedy assassination investigation, it just takes time.

Secrets and operatives

Edward SnowdenSurely we’ve learned that our own CIA in America does all sorts of things it does not want the public to know. Yet once the conspiracy of our military’s torture of Iraqis was exposed, that led to greater hate of our nation by terrorists. Some claim we should never have released those photos. They were the province of war and special intelligence.

But if we truly care about the character of our nation and its representatives, then all of us should take conspiracy seriously. Surely some conspiracies are shallow, vain attempts at gaining attention. But others are massively significant, such as the case with Edward Snowden, who leaked classified information from the NSA. Some say he did it out of good conscience and is a hero. Others consider him a traitor.

One thing we know for sure. There is always something afoot that runs deeper than our surface knowledge. It pays to ask questions and seek the truth, even if it means exposing some of our heroes and leaders as frauds. There’s always a risk in that. Sometimes we find out things we really did not want to know.

We’re coming up to Easter, the season when Christians celebrate the Resurrection, which is either the biggest even known in history or the biggest conspiracy ever perpetrated on the face of the earth.

Conspiring minds want to know.

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Why my kids aren’t running clones of me

One of the vows I made upon becoming a parent was that I would not force my children into liking or doing everything I did. At least I tried to meet that vow. Sure, I dragged them afield for nature walks, pointing out birds and plants and interesting bits of garbage in the weeds, if that’s what it took. But that’s just part of being a parent.

Evan Paul Cudworth (in green hat) on one of his rooftop adventures in New York.

Evan Paul Cudworth (in green hat) on one of his rooftop adventures in New York.

What I did not do was take them out running with me. This was a divisive decision in my head. On one hand I believe strongly in the health benefits of physical activity. On the other hand I did not think it wise to try to make them into clones of myself. I’m happy to say they are finding their way in this world based on their own choices.

Both participated in the sport of soccer. I coached my son’s teams all the way through middle school. As a coach I erred on the side of a screamer now and then. I’m competitive and getting eleven kids at the age of 10 to work together on a soccer field is a difficult task.

So I could have done better at that. But years later when my son and I talked about our soccer days, I mentioned a particular play he made during a game and he told me, “Dad, I don’t remember any of our games. But our practices were fun.”

And he ran around a lot during practice. So I knew he was getting exercise. He also played soccer on the playground at school. So I knew he ran around even more. Yet one day he came home frustrated with the game that day.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Well, all the good kids gang up on one team, and they win every day,” he replied.

“And what do you do?”

“I play on the other team,” he said. “And they kill us every day. It’s not fair and it’s no fun if the sides aren’t even.”

(And being the dad I said…) “Have you tried getting everyone to make the sides more fair?”

(And as a son, he sighed) “Yes. We’ve tried everything. All they want to do is win.”

And that, in a nutshell, “is life,” I told him.

But I was damned proud of his commitment to justice. He made that decision on his own.

Of course by proxy it also meant that he had to run and play twice as hard and likely improved his soccer skills trying to keep the ball away from ten guys at once.

Nothing motivates improvement like anger. Nothing.

Emily Joan Cudworth with her super buddy wonder dog Chuck. Nice paws!

Emily Joan Cudworth with her super buddy wonder dog Chuck. Nice paws!

My daughter was similarly feisty on the soccer field. But she cared not for the social snarkiness of the girl’s soccer teams on which she played. Nor did she really care for all the running. So despite my fervent encouragement to use her natural speed on the field (she was among the top 10% in speed among the girls she played) she chose to play goalie.

It’s in her nature to be contrary about some things. At the tender age of three years old she was acting up in the back seat by teasing her brother and being obnoxious. I stopped the car and stared at her in the rear view mirror. “Emily, if you don’t straighten up in the car, I’m going to have to make some rules.”

She leaned forward in her child’s seat and looked me right in the eyes through the rear view mirror. “But daddy,” she replied. “I’ll break the rules.”

You try coaching a kid like that. However one of her last seasons as a soccer player the coach hired a trainer from the local fitness club to work with the girls. Those 12-year-olds were put through core workouts that made me wince. But their tummies got tight. They even compared ab muscles on occasion. And man, with all that fitness built up from within, my girl could really run.

I specifically recall the sight of her pale legs flying downfield in pursuit of a a girl dribbling in a breakaway. She ran that girl down and in full stride stripped the ball from her feet.

I already knew by that point that Emily would not go on to play high school sports. The natural infighting on sports teams just did not appeal to her. Plus she never really liked getting out of bed earlier than she absolutely needed. So I savored that moment for what it was. Just the joy of it.

Calvin in Bed

Nor did sports last for my son. In high school soccer he played and started through his sophomore year. Yet when the coach did not lift a finger to talk to him or his other friends about the next season, soccer was dead to him.

Two years later that same coach lamented in a newspaper article that his team was struggling because they lacked senior leadership. Small wonder. None of the 18 freshman that began the program together made it through their senior year. “How ironic,” I said out loud to the newspaper.

My son also ran track through his sophomore year and was actually faster in the 800 than I was at that age. I think he ran 2:05. But one day he came home and told me, “Dad, when I’m doing track I’m 25% happy. But when I’m doing drama I’m 100% happy.”

I agreed that the decision was made. He went on to act and direct plays both in high school and college at University of Chicago. He’s studied Improv in New York City and has become a writer as well.

Evan third from left.

Evan third from left.

It’s funny how these aspects of personality in our children emerge despite our best efforts, in some respects, to let them become who they want to be. Despite some of their differences in personality and approach to life, my daughter now laughs that she sees her mother emerging in her language and actions. My son was really close to my wife and yet in many ways he could not be more different than she.

But these are the things that make us close.

In recent years my son has taken his running and done interesting things with it. His legs (like mine) are not perfect for the sport. He is prone to a knee injury on one side. Yet that has not stopped him from getting involved in a group that literally runs with the homeless population in New York City. Running helps the homeless in surprising ways. It frees them from adverse expectations. It builds confidence too.

He told me about the day they all attended one of those races where everyone gets doused with bright colors. At first his homeless proteges were skeptical. But then something great started to happen. “They got into it,” he said.

We can sometimes only imagine what the human mind does when released from the bonds of negativity. Running is great for that. It has saved my mind in many ways, and many times in life when troubles threatened to overwhelm. Imagine going from being homeless to be covered in bright yellow, green, pink and blue colors.

I’ve never used my running for something so cool as that.

Why run when you can find other ways to have fun?

Why run when you can find other ways to have fun?

Yet the gift I gave to my daughter for her birthday last year was one of those 0.0 ovals for the back of her car. She’s not going to become a runner anytime soon. For one thing, her feet are pretty flat from the orthopedic boots she wore the first year of walking. Her feet had been curled and the doctors straightened them out the old-fashioned way, with straight shoes.

So she needs orthotics to this day, and yet does not yet wear them. She’s no clone of me, you see. I wear orthotics everywhere I go, and all the time. We all make our decisions based on our own interests. Running doesn’t really interest her.

That’s fine, of course. It’s never been my goal to make my children a clone of me. And they’re not. But I have insisted on many occasions that they learn to “enjoy the process,” which means living in the moment. And when that doesn’t happen, I’ve always counseled that difficulties “build character.”

Calvin Builds Character

I’m not sure if I borrowed that phrase or came up with it on my own. The one thing we all do share is a love for the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. It grew evident over the years that I am literally the father in that strip, who loves to ride and exercise in horrible conditions, then come home and tell everyone how it “builds character.”

The one area we might all converge some day is cycling. Emily likes a simple ride on a hybrid bike and Evan used to ride off to parks during the summer with book in hand. So perhaps we’ll all ride together at some point. That would be fun.

And a bit of a time warp. I rode with them back and forth to the park when they were just little kids. Evan took to the bike pretty quickly. Emily refused to ride a two-wheeler until first grade when we moved to Batavia and we had a big wide driveway and quiet street where she could practice in peace. That’s my girl. Does it her way.

My son is also a fan of Star Wars. His Christmas gift from my companion Sue was a book in which the Star Wars story is written in the style of Shakespeare. I cannot imagine myself enjoying that book too much. He’s very well read however and has torn through massive tomes like the Brothers Karamazov and other classic literature that I have never touched.

Mu daughter meanwhile has become a naturalist in ways that I never really imagined. She picked up where her mother left off in raising monarch butterflies from the eggs laid on milkweed plants. Last summer she raised and released 50 of the insects, more than her mother even managed to do. And in Emily’s inimitable style, she chronicled the entire life cycle using her incredible photography skills and powers of observation (which she did get from her mother) to bring the entire episode of metamorphosis to life.

That’s probably an apt enough symbol here on which to close. We’re all part of a metamorphosis in some way. As individuals, as a family, and as a population.

It takes a whole cast of characters to make it work, and none of them the same. That’s what makes us all more alike than we might like to think.

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