tyler's take

Today my morning began in a manner most bizarre. For starters, I was in Las Vegas, which by itself is almost patently absurd since my intentional desire to be in that city is nearly negative (I’ve seen CSI after all (not to mention “The Hangover”)), and all of my previous ventures there have been strictly confined to the airport and its immediately surrounding airspace. Yet there I was, seemingly, crawling through the scaffolding of an unfinished mega-casino complex, where debt-strapped construction had inelegantly ground to an ugly halt, leaving the slowly decaying remnants of some still-born monstrosity in concrete and steel as an iconic (and ironic) monument to the avarice of humankind (yes, it was one of *those* mornings). I had made my way to this most unappealing place in an attempt to escape from the gathering horde that was moving in a manner most unsympathetic to my technological troubles. You see this morning, despite my absolute best attempts, I simply *could not* get my phone to stop ringing, and it was ringing very loudly. *Very* loudly. No one was happy with me. Some people were, in fact, unhappy to the point of violence and my perception of this propensity had inspired me to seek refuge in this peculiar place. The particularly frustrating part was that, as far as I could tell, no one was actually calling me, and if they were I was completely unable to answer the call. Or silence the phone. Or reboot it. Or shut it down at all. Did I mention how loud the ringing was? It was fairly frustrating. It had been going like that for what seemed like ages. Despite my deep affection for the phone I had reached the point of determination to fling it into the pool of the nearest fountain I could find, drowning the deviant device (and its deafening sound). As such, I began to make my way down and out of the structure towards the place where I thought that such a fountain might be found. As I approached what seemed to be the entrance hall of the aborted complex, I saw from behind what appeared to be the gilt glimmer of a statued woman standing gracefully in the center of a large basin. Rounding her to the front I nearly marveled at the prospective spectacle, for she held out seven bottles, as if pouring out wine, with one bottle in each of her seven curiously connected hands, and each of the seven bottles was one color of the rainbow. But nothing flowed out of the side-turned bottles, and the basin was dry. This unnatural construct, the centerpiece of its hollow edifice, was still-born too. Alas, it was a desert after all. Momentarily enthralled, I wondered if the intended flow from each of the bottles might have somehow matched the color of its source, and how they might have mixed and mingled in the basin. But I wondered only briefly; my rebellious phone was still ringing. And as I turned away from the extraordinary scene, my face encountered something quite unexpectedly hard. It was a fist. Boom. And seven-colored stars mingled in the basin of my mind.

I sat up fumbling towards consciousness and sequentially made several rather revealing realizations: first, my phone was no longer ringing; second my alarm (which emanates from a device greatly resembling my phone) was trilling at me most incessantly; third, I appeared to be back home with all of my (quite groggy) parts conveniently unbroken. I picked up the alarm and, glancing at the time, realized that it must have been bleating like that for nearly 20 minutes straight. Wow, where’s snooze when you need it? As these realizations coalesced, I pondered the pros and cons of my position. The upside was that my phone (not to mention my face) was perfectly fine. The downside was that the ringing meant I ought to get up, or that I ought to have had some time ago. Alas again, I was going to be late for workout. Again. Alas.

Tuesday morning I skipped most of my normal swim workout to help out a friend, and consequently arrived at the pool about an hour later than typical (to run with friends after practice … I did not go all that way to swim for 15 minutes). This unusual timing proved rather serendipitous.

After briefly crossing paths with Ande in the parking garage (apparently he got out early), I began crossing the street to the swim center, and as I looked around to check for traffic I noticed other things.

To the east I saw the rising sun punching crepuscular rays through the opening rifts in a recently passed thunderhead. As I let my eyes follow these rays to the western vista I perceived a most beautiful apparition: a nearly full rainbow glowing brightly in blue sky above the distant dark background of an advancing storm.

Again, I was hamstrung with only my lesser recorder. Alas. It does at least convey the general idea.

After crossing to the other side of the street I saw one end of the rainbow coming down seemingly in the pool (olympic gold inside):

Looking back towards the capitol I found the other end (isn’t that where they keep the rest of the gold?)

Here they are in a pseudo-panoramic digital collage:

Today I think I might have seen the most beautiful sunset ever. Sadly I was hampered with a only a very low quality image recorder (at least, the one with images that can be shared). I might have known it was coming since on the way to twilight I saw some of my most favorite clouds, high cirrus and cirrocumulus.

Seeing these types of clouds always seems to make me smile. Perhaps it comes from the sense of awe that they inspire … so high and far away, and seeming so wispy and delicate.

The natural world around us is filled with things of such beauty and wonder, if we only take a moment out of our busy lives to stop and stare we might decide that some of our “large problems” are actually small in comparison to world in which we live. A little perspective can be a good thing.

Follow along in your own mind’s eye as the cloud bottoms, surrounded by a darkening blue and purple sky, slide through the spectrum of glowing colors … white, to yellow, yellow to orange, orange to red, red to pink, dissolving into the backdrop and then reemerging in field of darkening white and grays over a deepening blue.

Sometimes it pays dividends to walk the world with eyes open and up.

Sometimes change is in the air; sometimes it’s just in the mix; sometimes it’s good; sometimes it hurts; sometimes it’s needed; sometimes it’s all you have, and sometimes … well, sometimes it’s just for fun.

11 days ago I did something that qualifies as a definite change (well for me at least): I signed up to do the third triathlon of my life, and my first olympic distance tri.

SInce that defining moment I’ve discovered that being a triathlete requires a different kind of life. So far I’ve changed the way I eat, the way I live, and the way I treat other people.

The race is in downtown Austin and begins during the sunrise hours of labor day: 7 days from today. Hopefully more pre race posts will follow …

Todd wasted no time getting back on the training wagon after returning home from zones. The very next day (Monday) he took advantage of his family still being away on vacation and did what any suddenly single guy would do: he joined me for a wild night at the grove gym.

That’s right, he opted out on cougar night (which is Thursday night anyway (or so I’ve heard)) and went for the straight up exercise triple header. And that worked fine for me since I was (informally) planning to make it to the gym every day of the week on my first time off of taper in over a month.

By carefully reading the group fitness class schedule I discovered that there was a (seemingly new) FIT class on monday at 5:30 pm followed by an hour of downtime before the 7:30 Yoga/Pilates Fusion class that I had attended many times previously. We had both skipped morning workout at Garrison (having had plenty of wet over the weekend), but it’s hard to get away from what you know, so the middle hour seemed like a perfect time to stretch it out in a nice evening swim. Now most ordinary people would likely balk at such an evening plan, but for a dedicated world record holder like Todd (who was also a steady, if not almost obnoxiously frequent reader of my antics) it was an easy sell.

Todd rolled up around 5:25 and that left just enough time to get him signed in as my guest, dump our bags in the locker room, and make our way up to studio 1, which was pretty packed. I found two open spaces near the instructor’s stage (most people do seem to prefer the periphery) and had Todd hang out there while I rounded up equipment (funny how it always seems to be in the other room, but maybe that little bit of extra exercise is a bonus of arriving last). I think Todd had a somewhat curious look on his face when I dropped off the balance balls and the BOSUs (“hmm, fun!” that must have been what he was thinking). I also picked up hand weights (only light 10 pounders), long stretchy bands, figure-eight bands, and heavy body bars.

Upon completing my double hunt-and-gather mission I looked up and appreciated for the first time that the instructor was someone totally new to me. It’s fairly impressive how much a class workout can vary by instructor, so I was interested to see how familiar or different this class would be. Turns out it the answer was, “fairly.”

I won’t go into all the sweaty details, but I think it’s safe to say that Todd rather enjoyed the class. He liked the squat press with stretchy bands (at one point he said his heart rate monitor was over 150), the presses and crunches on the BOSU, and he especially enjoyed the part where we were lying on our backs with our straight legs at 90 degrees in the air and figure-eight bands on our feet, trying to separate our feet as much as possible, hold them apart, pulse there, then hold them apart some more. Hip or leg abduction might be a more compact term, and I was certainly feeling it in my gluteus medius (or there abouts in the outer booty). Now I suppose it could have been a workout induced haze (Todd can either correct me or back me up on this), but it seemed like the instructor kept insisting that we should be feeling this exercise in our inner thighs; I found that claim to be quite perplexing. Maybe she was feeling it there, though I’m not sure how (perhaps female anatomy is a lot more different than I realized). This last exercise was by far the most agonizing for me, and based on the effortful sounds coming from Todd’s direction I imagine that it was challenging for him too. I have to say, I think we were both also laughing a bit at this point (because that’s so much more manly that crying). There must be something slightly humorous in self-induced shared suffering.

After FIT we put away the equipment and made our way down to the pool, only to discover that some ominous looking storm clouds had foiled our plans for a nice evening swim (apparently someone saw lightning six counties over). Fortunately the indoor pool was still open, but with one person in each of the four-foot-wide lanes it seemed pretty crowded. After a few minutes of standing around Todd unintentionally intimidated one of the dunked denizens into departing by politely asking if he would be willing to split the lane or circle. The fellow responded that he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to do either in such a skinny lane and seemed satisfied to just get out. So, Todd and I split the lane, and in about 30 minutes managed to get in about 2k.

Following the swim we were back up in studio 2 in time for the stretchy yoga class. This class was nearly as full as the first one, but this time there were not two adjacent spaces and Todd (perhaps intentionally) set himself up way over against the wall. With the class actually a mixture of yoga and pilates (a fusion I guess) there was a fair bit of stretching, but also a fair bit of exercise. With both yoga and pilates to pull from there are a lot of different things for the instructor to choose in one hour, so the class varies quite a bit.

I’m not entirely sure what Todd’s take was on the whole thing, but he did get to try one of the pilates exercises that often makes me laugh: open leg rocker. Here you’re sitting up on your “sits bones” with your straight legs and back all elevated so that your body makes kind of a V shape. Then while holding onto your legs you roll backwards onto your shoulders, hang out there for a moment, and then roll back up into the V-shaped seated position, ideally without falling forward or letting your legs collapse. Then you do that several times. As you rock back and forth your straight legs are slightly spread, or open, hence the name. The funny part comes when the instructor says, “those of you who are able can take two fingers and wrap them around each of your big toes and keep going.” I can appreciate how doing this would make the exercise easier to control, assuming that you could actually wrap your fingers around your toes while keeping your legs straight. For me it’s the seeming absurdity of this notion that often makes me laugh, and watching Todd try it was no exception. With Todd in the room I think there finally might have been someone even more “hamstring challenged” than I.

After that class we were all done at the gym and I was hungry. Someone had the good idea to get some dinner so we left the gym and regrouped over at Pei-Wei. I had spicy thai noodles and a Kirin, and Todd had something like dan dan noodles and a bud. I can’t say for sure if it was exercise-induced sensory enhancement or just a particularly skilled cook, but that food tasted really good.

Epilogue:
While it’s certainly helpful to train with someone of similar ability (who can push, pull or prod you through a moment of mediocrity, and for whom you can do the same), simply having someone familiar or friendly nearby can often be just as motivational. Staying healthy and fit is important for our bodies and minds, but it’s not so easy a task in our modern world of conveniences; finding effective and lasting ways to get it done can often be a challenge.

I have to brag on Todd a little right now. Only a few years back he used to carry around the equivalent of a 45 pound plate with him everywhere he went. Anyone who’s ever hefted one of those things might have an idea about what that would be like. At some point Todd decided that he wanted to make a change, so he found something that worked for him and he stuck with it. Very few people have the luxury to exercise for three hours every night, and Todd is no exception (I certainly have no expectation of him being my frequent dryland training partner). Work and family obligations typically come first (and rightly so), but that doesn’t mean that there’s zero room for anything else. Three days after our monday night three-hour workout Todd had a gotten a BOSU for his house and was home in the evening showing his kids all the things he had learned how to do with it. Sometimes all it takes to light a fire is one tiny spark.

One of the best features of my fitness club (I do often call it a gym though it’s a lot more than that) is its wide offering of adult group fitness classes. There really is something for everyone and the instructors are very good at pointing out modifications for almost every exercise so that people at every fitness level can stay moving and working together as a group. That kind of thing may not work for everyone, but something else might, and trying it once might light a spark like it did for Todd. If you find yourself wanting to improve your life in a way that lasts why not try something new? Take a chance, it might change your life for the better in ways you never expect!

Technically she was never my pet, though I’m not sure that she knew or cared. Felines can sometimes be funny like that. To be my frequent companion was her choice, though I consented.

What a curious thing it is to have an animal as a companion!

Certainly not human, but most definitely sentient, and perhaps even possessing that quality we call consciousness.

Providing a sense of comfort and, one may imagine, also receiving it. So, a give and take.

If the eyes are the window to the soul, or the doorway to the conscious mind, or the light of body, then peering into the eyes is something like reading the mind or seeing the light.

How much mystery may be found within the eyes of a connected gaze!

Even though their lives are relatively short they often appear to have plenty of time; the seeming paradox owing perhaps to their few obligations.

Suffering and death are both actually a part of life. If life lasted forever and involved no suffering, some might take life much more for granted than they already do.

No one with genuine compassion would want any living creature to suffer needlessly, but how many people would take an incurably dying parent or friend to a stranger’s table to be “put to out of their misery?” Not that it was technically ever up to me.

Death does not define life, but it does delineate its boundary. It is finite. It has an end.

And so it was that at 10:23 on a thursday morning in July, still cool in the dappled shade of a live oak, beneath a mostly sun sky, in a chorus and covey of cooing doves, Bailey the cat entered that peaceful final sleep that awaits us all. She did so from two of her favorite (or at least, most frequented) places: the backyard porch, and my lap.