Managing My Mania

As a kid and a young adult I was manic at best, but probably "insane" better captures the essence of who I was then. Back in the day, I called my bouts with mania "madman’s disease." Over the years as I learned about the lives of people like Mozart, Picasso, Freud, St. Augustine, Laura Ingalls Wilder and others and I’ve determined they, too, had madman’s disease. In my untrained armchair theory, these folks had things in their heads that they had to get out. Unlike the greats mentioned above, who I over-identified with, I did not have a specific talent, skill or craft through which to release some of the mania.

Luckily for me, I stumbled into running, and later writing. These two outlets have lightened the mental load. I joke about the combination saving me tons of money in therapy and mood altering drugs. In my case, there is a reality to that. Endorphins and catharsis represent the empirical areas that support my position.

By no means do I intend to belittle professional therapy or clinically prescribed medication, but I do advocate a good run. It has the power to pick you up from doldrums and release frustration, both physically and chemically. Likewise, writing in a web log, diary, crafting short stories or writing the great American novel can help you mentally, emotionally and spiritually process conscious and subconscious issues. I highly recommend the combination of the two, hence my blog about exercising every single day.

Set yourself free. Go for a run and write about it.


Tom

Feel the Pain

Okay, I have a confession to make. I haven’t committed a heinous socially unacceptable act, as much as I have treaded on my own personal imperative and consequently, my own feelings. Of all things that are true in my life, I am healthy. During any given week I engage in six cardio and one resistance training work out. That’s the standard cross training routine for me. I believe this program gives a holistic approach and keeps me strong and flexible.

Last week I sinned. I crossed my own standards for what constitutes meaningful exercise. For the first time, I tried one of those dance-based aerobic workouts. It lasted for forty-seven minutes, including warm up and cool down. I mocked the genre beforehand, but the truth is that I struggled to keep up and the routine put a serious burn on my arms, abs, legs and back.

Prior to completing the dance video I didn’t even consider it as “real” exercise, not for my purposes of preserving The Streak. Wow, what a difference a day can make. I grievously misunderstood, but now I’m a believer, a full-on convert. I used Shaun T’s Rockin’ Body and it does rock the body. I will be hitting “play” on this DVD again soon.

Run. Stretch. Dance.

Tom

Best in Bosra

People often ask me, “Where is/was your favorite pace to run?” I am blessed to have many amazing miles under my feet at this point in my life. I truly enjoy jogging in a variety of places, from crossing creeks in city parks to running from Luxor to Karnack Temple along the Nile River. To name one stand out, though, it was a run that happened at the break of dawn in Bosra, Syria. The morning embodied the concept of peaceful. Rolling hills of farmland that had been cultivate since the beginning of recorded history surrounded me. Only the sound of my own breathing filled the air.

I had been running on old town roads and made an impulsive decision to turn off and run in the middle of a farm toward the rising sun. Not long after that, I heard a horse galloping behind me. I knew I had asked for trouble by running on private property in the Middle East. I turned only to see a young Arab boy, elementary aged I guessed, ride up beside me.

I’m sure the boy had no idea what to think of me. I had no idea what to say to him, not to mention I wasn’t sure if he would understand English. We smiled at each other and stayed in stride for a couple of miles. At that point I had to turn and go back, but he stayed with me. When I returned to the road he stopped his horse. I spun around and waved. He smiled and waved back. I doubt the boy remembers the stranger running on his family’s property. As for me, I’ll never forget the brief and beautiful moment in time the two of us enjoyed on that crisp summer morning.

May we all have many more miles.

Tom

Weight a Minute

To my great dismay, in October of 2009 I had a second bout with Plantar Fasciitis. I had first felt the excruciating pain in my heel in the exact same month of 2004. Upon the initial diagnosis I purchased professionally fitted orthotics and refrained from running for nearly three months. Along with the physical frustration, I remember keenly the emotional turmoil brought on by the fear of never running regularly again, as well as the mind numbing monotony of indoor low impact exercise. In those months I nearly lost my sanity, but managed to gain a fair amount of weight.

In the last six years, somewhere in the back of my mind, I worried about the possible return of Plantar Fasciitis. My fears came to fruition, in October, with a vengeance. I’ve since felt the symptomatic pain of Plantar Fasciitis with each morning’s first step for the past six months. I found that wearing a running shoe to bed lessens the pain, and is ridiculously funny. Unfortunately, I can’t shake the pain as I did previously. I get the unpleasant sensation in my left heel throughout the day, regardless of activity.

I have reduced the intensity of my daily exercise and consequently am reliving an onslaught of all the same mental anguish I felt five years ago. I find it maddening that, even with daily exercise, the weight jumps back on me quickly when my running is reduced. I may have to resort to modifying my diet until my heel heals.

Yikes!

Tom

Fearful Flight

I started this blog entry from the Atlanta airport awaiting a flight to New York City.

As I understand it’s snowing in the Big Apple at present (It was). I also heard that Atlanta may get snow the night we return home (It did). I am no fan of the cold weather, not to mention Shannan and I are ill prepared to get snowed in for any length of time (We didn’t). We have packed as lightly as possible for our trip that’s scheduled to last little more than 36 hours.

I’m particularly paranoid about this kind of thing. We once traveled to Indiana in March for a day trip. Shannan took me to the Hoosier state so I could run there and procure my fiftieth state in which to do so. It had snowed in Indianapolis before we arrived and threatened ice that afternoon. Threatening proved to be enough. All flights were cancelled. Shannan and I ended up stranded overnight with no toothbrush, no change of clothes, no contact numbers, nothing.

As a result, I have brought on this trip the bare minimum--a tooth brush and running gear. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Epilogue-- Some of the parenthetical notes above fill in the gaps. We made it to our destination safely and on time. It sleeted that night. The following day brought some sunshine and the travel-halting weather didn’t come to fruition. Our return trip went without a hitch. However, a wintry weather mess did roll into Atlanta a little later than scheduled. Fortunately, we threaded the needle and didn’t need more than our overnight bags. Whew! Who wants to wash running clothes in a hotel sink?

Run strong. Pack well.

Tom

13 great years

Greetings! I have to admit I’m more than a tad superstitious. I have been nervous about this day for the good part of a year. To make matters worse, it rained, and rained heavily in Atlanta today. I thought it might be grand to have this particular run out amid the downpour, but I couldn’t talk myself into the hassle of it all--wet shoes, blistered feet and so on. Luckily, my concerns were for naught. I have indeed exercised, on the treadmill,
:-0 and completed thirteen (13) full years of The Streak.

It has been a phenomenal run, and I wholeheartedly look forward to the adventures this “healthy” obsession will bring my way in the future. I can’t pretend to have made it this far without Shannan’s encouragement. That’s not a loving husband’s tip of the hat to his wife. Shannan can be a hard core gritty coach when necessary. I love her for that, and much more.

Reflecting on the last thirteen years I clearly recognize that for me running is the best time to pray, the best way to think, the greatest stress reliever available, a great way to experience nature and a wonderful way to see a new town or city. I am grateful for the good health and wherewithal to have done all of the above for so long.

Long live The Streak!

Tom

The Hour is Close at Hand

Greetings! March 9 looms large. In 1997 that day locked itself in my memory indefinitely. The previous day I had been in Los Angeles for my sister’s graduation from Physicians’ Assistant Training. We celebrated to the wee hours and then on the morning of the 9th I caught a flight back to Atlanta. I arrived in the late afternoon. Shannan picked me up and we immediately joined my brother-in-law to celebrate his birthday.

After a filling Thai dinner and a full evening of fellowship, I fell asleep in the car on the way home. In the back of my mind I believed I could rally and exercise after the brief respite. Once we made it to the house, though, between too much celebrating, not enough sleep, the time change and all else I crashed, hard.

This was the last day, in almost 13 years that I did not exercise. It is with bittersweet emotions I encounter March 9 every year. The good news is once I exercise for the 9th and 10th, I enter a new year of The Streak and the many intriguing things it brings to my life.

Tom

Running Around Life

This weekend holds an interesting array of events for us. Shannan and I pride ourselves on planning itineraries which have no common theme other than "odd." Our present schedule comes without any of our input and a binding theme of major life events.


We just attended a funeral of a friend (I’m writing in the car). Saturday we have a wedding of my niece and Sunday we celebrate a birthday with Shannan’s brother. As I write, it’s not lost on me that this very day is my mother’s birthday and also the same date she died.

I have no special running activities in mind to coincide with each experience, but I feel certain my exercise time in the coming days will be very reflective. Atlanta has great weather forecasted this weekend. I look forward to making new memories and remembering loved ones while out on the road.

Reflect. Run. Remember.

Tom

Slip Sliding Away

El Nino brought a beautiful coating of snow across North Georgia last week. We saw several snowmen over six feet tall. Luckily the snow came late on a holiday weekend. Most folks left work early to get a head start on the on the “snow event.” Traffic on our side of town didn’t get too treacherous.

Saturday morning gave way to a winter wonderland. I went outside thinking how fun it would be to have a run in the fresh powder. However, after sliding with nearly every step I took in the driveway, I thought better of it.

As much fun as it would be to blog about a snowy jog, I decided it would be better to be able to write about running sans cuts, scrapes, bruises or broken bones. So, I enjoyed the snow with a short walk in the neighborhood, and used the treadmill for my daily exercise. Though I did feel a little like timid Tom, I’m good to run another day.

Run and run safely.

Tom