Confessions of a reluctant runner. Part 4, States of matter.

My runs during the ridiculous freeze-thaw cycle that we've been experiencing in Edmonton this last little while have had me thinking about the different states of matter... don't look at me like that. Anyway, this in turn, got me thinking about how these different states of matter are associated with my runs (look, I'm fairly certain you're not buying any of this, but if you could play along, it would be very much appreciated.)

First off, there is solid. Bones, muscles, tendons, my entire body absorbing impact and propelling me at the same time. The intermittent patches of solid water (i.e. ice) that challenge my footing. The variations of asphalt, concrete, brick, gravel, dirt, and wood as I progress through my run.

So many parts, so many opportunities for pain

Next is liquid. The perspiration that has me soaked by the end. The seemingly endless supply of phlegm that my lungs produce. The before mentioned patches of solid water that have transformed into miniature glacial lakes. The squish of my shoes and socks as I return from slogging in said lakes.

*volume of water and physique of runner may not be exactly as shown

Then there's, gas. The water vapour that forms from my breath. The steam that rises from my body as perspiration evaporates into the cold air. The, um, other gases that, um...alright, there's no getting around this one. Nitrogen, Hydrogen, Carbon dioxide, Oxygen, and of course, Methane; they're all present and accounted for in varying percentages. Running is a very jarring activity and with that one's insides get quite a vigorous massage. Looking to "cleanse" your body? Between the flatulence, the burps, and the phlegm, there's nothing like a good solid run to make you feel like you've exorcised more than a few demons. Speaking of the foul, a lung-full of vehicle exhaust as I reach the top of the stairs. The cigarette smoke as I pass clutches of smokers huddled around the various entrances to buildings. That one particular spot along the trail where the scent of sewage is perennial and potent.

I shall use the  Rosetta Nebula as an illustration of the interplay of gases... close enough, damn it!

Finally, plasma. Ummm... If it's not too cloudy, the sun feels nice. That's about all I've got for that one. Oh, like you even considered plasma in the first place.

I bet you're considering my ionized particles now, eh? Ka-POW!

So, the next time you're out and about on a early Spring day, take some time to appreciate the wonders of matter, in all it's states; and remember, the triple-point of water is not, in fact, 0°C

Meditations of a false yogi

I practice yoga; somewhat. I am not in tune with my chakras, nor the life force energies that emanate from them. I have no grand ideas about attaining higher consciousness, nor escaping the wheel of saṅsāra. Alright, so maybe I don't practice yoga. I do yoga; on Wednesdays; at lunch; have been for about a year; love it!

Yoga is like guerrilla exercise - you don't really seem to be doing much, but the burning in you muscles, the strain on your tendons, and the sweaty impressions left on the mat betray a very different reality. While yoga has quite a history of mysticism and spirituality behind it, I approach it purely at the level of physicality. For me, it is an exercise that improves my strength, flexibility, and balance. It's a chance for me to test my limits while maintaining a sense of control over my body. You can't rush into a position, or you will find that you won't be able to maintain it for very long, or "express" the position fully.

While I do not subscribe to the idea of internal energies whizzing around in my body (quite different than the electrical charge carried by neurons), I am able to effectively use visualization to assist me in my yoga; that is, mind over matter. It's about picturing an image of my body and getting certain muscles to relax so I can reach just a little further. It's about focusing on a static point so I can maintain my balance without being pulled by movement in my peripheral field of view. It's about mentally checking in with the positioning of my body and adjusting it so as to have an even distribution of weight. So I guess what I'm getting at is that yoga really is about mindfulness, but it's hard to discuss ideas like mindfulness without going too far into mysticism. I'm talking about mindfulness in terms of awareness, not in terms of a spirituality, just as I mean awareness in terms of awareness of my senses (just the five of them) and my body's position within it's immediate space, not awareness of some other state or reality. Sigh.

I like doing yoga. I enjoy the physical challenges it presents. I like that it's something that I do that doesn't really seem like something that I would do. I don't feel I have to buy into the whole spirituality of the yogic tradition in order to find benefit from the exercise. As with most systems, be it martial, or corporate, or political, or what have you, this is how I tend to approach it:

I'll attend the party. I'll munch on the snacks. However, I will not be drinking the Kool Aid.

All Ski Bunnies, please report to the tow rope.

It's been an long winter, and it's not over yet.  Here we are, beginning of March and we've been hit with another cold snap.  Sigh.  So far I've done pretty well, but I have to admit that I'm starting to get the cabin fever; not so much during the week, but I'm noticing it on the weekends.  I'm sure there are things I could be doing outside with the family, but the idea of having to go through the effort of bundling up a four-year-old and a 20-month-old to go outside only to have them lose interest after five minutes, well it just seems like too much hassle.

Although, sometimes it is worth the effort.

A couple of weeks ago, to celebrate Family Day, my wife and I and our two children met up with my sisters-in-law and their families for a day of skiing.  It was shaping up to be a pleasant day weather-wise, but to be perfectly honest, I was dreading the trip.  When we had tried this last year, we went through the trouble of renting equipment for my daughter, who was three at the time, just so she could have the experience of being on skis.  The experience didn't last long and it wasn't long before we were back in the lodge.  Although we did do some sledding near the end, it did make it a long day trying to coax my daughter back onto skis to no avail.  Add to this experience the domestic disaster that transpired as we tried to get out the door that morning, mostly due to my inability to properly prepare the night before; I did not have high hopes.

This all changed when we reached the hill, much to my delight.  While my wife looked after our son in the lodge, I took our daughter and myself to get outfitted with skis.  Once she had her skis on, she was excited to hit the slopes!  Yea!  We started on the practice hill, which was a small plot of slope that you had to walk up.  Ouch!  In order to have her go down with my help I had to first ski uphill myself, pop my skis off, run back down the hill, and then push my daughter uphill.  This was a workout in itself!  After a couple of practice runs of her in front and me holding her under her arms, I was relieved to move on to the tow rope.  We just had to get there first.

Traversing is shite

The overland trek to the tow rope is not an easy one.  We first tried the ski pole tow method, where I would ski in front and my daughter would hold on to one of my poles and glide along behind.  That didn't work, so instead we went side by side, hand in hand.  I'm sure it looked sweet and so the pain was worth it.  Progress was slow as we shuffled over flat land to the tow rope.  Finally we made it to the tow rope and got in line.  I was worried that my daughter might get scared about using the contraption, even though I would be behind her the whole time, but she wasn't (alright, maybe I was the one who was worried about her falling down with me being dragged over top of her).

The Mighty Tow Rope

As we got into position I kept repeating to my daughter, "Skis straight, stand up. Skis straight, stand up..." Our first tow took us halfway up the slope.  We got into position and down we went.  It was fantastic.  My daughter was yelling with glee the entire time!  As soon as we got to the bottom, "Again! Let's go again!"  This is exactly what I had wanted to hear. We did another run from halfway up, and then it was to the top.  My daughter was so excited to ski down from the top. Each run we did I kept repeating as we went down, "Skis straight, stand up!"  I wanted to get her ready to go down by herself.  After a couple of runs from the top, I asked my daughter if she wanted to try to ski down herself.  She was more than willing!

Carving the Bunny Hill

The first run was from a quarter of the way up.  I got my daughter into position and then let her go.  I skied along beside her, repeating the mantra, "Skis straight, stand up."  After that first run, she was ready for more! She did several runs with a couple of breaks in between.  She had made it as far as halfway up by the end of the day.  Not bad for having only put on skis once before, and that was last winter.

Victorious skier

As we packed up to leave, I was so very, very proud of my little girl.  She was positive and excited for most of the day.  She had fun and was not afraid to just go for it.  I was happy we came out to the hill and I found myself thinking about why we don't do these kind of outings more often.  This question was emphatically answered by the sound of my 20-month-old son screaming at the top of his lungs because his day had ended about 2 hours ago, and he was letting the rest of the lodge know that he didn't see any use in us hanging around any longer.  Oh yeah.