SoM done in by tacos. You must abide by life’s priorities …
This is our pal Char. She turned 89 today. She got Spam and Jagermeister for her birthday. She isn’t sure why. I want to be Char when I grow up.
Except for maybe the Jagermeister. And the Spam. And the growing up part. And I don’t think I could make the leopardskin sunglasses work.
Maybe it’s better to let Char be Char. One is enough.
Another post-work outing. OK, I guess. When will it start getting easier? Maybe that’s what the Jagermeister is for. Bright side: Summer of Muskrat officially completes first week. I think I’m in first place. But then I think I’m the only contestant …
SoM day 7
mad dog, 10:20 p.m., 93
4 miles, 59:44 (14:54-122)
14:54, 14:51, 14:53, 14:58
150, 0.72, 3.2, v35
There is nothing more cruel in life than a late-night run in which you go buy the taco stand TWICE on Taco Tuesday.
This was my first late-night jaunt in the SoM, and I sorta loved it. The mad dog has plenty of lights, the skateboarders are still out, the self-driving cars are sleeping and the weather is tolerable. What more could you ask for? Yeah, I know. A taco. Oh, well.
SoM Day 6
mad dog, 11 p.m., 86
3 miles, 44:37 (14:49-115)
14:50, 14:53, 14:47
150, 0.72, 2.6, v35
A guy was in lane 1 today wearing a shirt from this year’s Pat’s Run, the local 4.2 mile race to honor the memory of former Arizona State and Cardinals football player Pat Tillman. I thought this was fitting, given the controversy swirling around Nike’s new Just Do It campaign.
A lot of folks are saying it should be Tillman’s face rather than Kap’s for the 30th anniversary ad. And I guess I understand where they’re coming from, even though Tillman’s wife said last year that her husband’s service “should never be politicized in a way that divides us.”
But honoring Tillman’s sacrifice doesn’t address the problem, which is that a large number of Americans feel they are being discriminated against unfairly, sometimes fatally, and feel the desperate need to do something about it, to call attention to it, to demand change. If they are fortunate enough to be on a national and world stage to do it, then they feel it’s their responsibility, following the tradition of Muhammad Ali, Tommie Smith, John Carlos and others over the years.
Maybe this is just a genius marketing campaign by Nike to cash in on the controversy. Or maybe they really do care. They might lose some money, but I doubt it. Their brand is too strong. Folks will squawk for a few weeks and then go back to their Air Jordans and Tiger Woods golf shirts. People have short memories. For each person burning $200 shoes they already paid for, someone else who has no interest in sports apparel is buying a pair of shoes just to show their support. It all balances out.
But if you take the time to read Colin Kaepernick’s story, you’ll find he’s the real deal, a guy willing to quietly sacrifice for something he believes in.
Tillman’s college teammate Jeremy Staat weighed in today. “Pat was not a conservative Republican, he did not believe in the Iraq War, he was not a Christian, and with the government and military handling of his death and the lies that followed I do believe that Pat would value the players’ protest against police brutality and inequality,” he said.
In the words of the prophet Vonnegut, so it goes.
The memory of Tillman was alive and well in Lane 1 today at the track. Kap and I held down Lane 9. There’s room for both on the track, and in the world.
The important thing is to believe in something. Just do it.
SoM Day 5
track, 6 pm, 97
44:46 (14:53, 114)
14:16, 14:57, 14:55
145, 0.74, 2.6, v35
The mad dog is still underwater. It hasn’t rained in two weeks. How is this even possible?
I feel totally crappy. I blame global warming.
SoM day 4
mad dog, 6:30 p.m., 93
4 miles, 59:28 (14:50, 121)
14:38, 14:53, 14:53, 14:55
148, 0.73, 3.2, v34
I may be old. I may be slow. But I am now the proud owner of a pristine Bill Rodgers singlet from the late 1970s. I had this singlet before The Great Purge of 1997 and I was fast. I assume this was all that was missing in my current plodding. Boston, here we come.
track, 11 a.m., 93
3 miles, 44:43 (14:53, 129)
14:51, 14:57, 14:53
149, 0.73, 3.8, v34
“Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be.
But what will happen in all the other days
that ever come can depend on what you do today.”
— Barack Obama quoting Hemingway about McCain. Or something.
Today was only one day. I woke up early to watch John McCain’s funeral. I’m a die-hard socialist liberal, but I always respected the guy for reasons that have been repeated too many times this week. But in addition to the political maverick stuff, I appreciated that he loved the Arizona wilderness. We’ve stood and admired those same red rocks, the skies that go on forever, the mountains, the saguaros. I am not a big fan of Phoenix, but driving into the wilderness is pretty magical.
Just three days after he had gotten his death sentence, he went hiking with daughter Meghan. That’s her photo below. Um, I didn’t ask for permission to run it, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.
The reading from President Obama haunts me. What will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today. Yikes. That’s a lot of pressure to put on my morning Cheerios. I added a banana. Just in case.
We went to see a friend in the hospital today. He expressly said he didn’t want visitors, a sure sign we needed to visit. He’s in a bad way. We’re fearing the worst. Mo points out that we’ve had too much bad lately; there’s no room. But what can you do? We brought him a sock monkey and pretended. You never know.
And then I went to run. They were painting numbers on the field. It’s bittersweet, because the school is killing the football program after this year. It’s sad, because they’re the Artichokes. How could you not love a team called Artichokes?
The run went OK, in a Summer of Muskrat what the hell was I thinking kinda way. The Townes shirt is a spectacularly bad idea, a cotton T-shirt on a 95 degree day. And the bird shoes are “running” shoes only in that somebody decided it would be a good marketing gimmick. But rules is rules. I shared the track with a couple running almost the same pace as me, a rare treat for a slow guy.
I ran along pondering mortality. I’m old. I never know if the daily run will be my last. 154 bpm when my max is 160? Don’t tell my cardiologist. But I’m at peace. Everyone dies. Friends, senators, teams. You never know when your time will come.
The important thing is today. Do something today. Today we gave a scared friend a sock monkey. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe.
SoM day 2
10 a.m., track, 95
3 miles, 41:49 (13:53, 132)
13:49, 13:55, 13:56
160, 0.73, 3.8, v34