Running for Your Life: In Praise of Haruki
So You Want to Live in Park Slope Dept.
Memorial Day Run With Thurb:
He’s better now – with the e-collar, doesn’t pull me, like a shopping cart coupled to freight train engine; it’s elementary and not seemingly hard on Ole UnReliable, not like he’s suddenly a rag dog when I use the e-collar device.
In any event, I go out on an ill-advised run, 90-plus degrees yet with a slight breeze at 7ish p.m., prime picnic time in Prospect Park.
Running for Your Life: Healthy Habits
Judging from my neighborhood of Park Slope, Brooklyn, you'd never think America had a health problem. Even on Monday (May 21), a stormy day, a sheets-of-rain dumping associated with Tropical Storm Alberto, I darted outside during a lull and ran with Thurb in Prospect Park. In Park Slope, that's common. You'll find joggers and runners going up and down the Slope during all hours, especially in the warmer weather months like now. When you come upon overweight people on the street, or in cafes, etc., your first thought is: Hmm, must be an out of towner . . .
All of which, of course, helps me stay on course in my effort to keep healthy habits. If I'm surrounded by people jogging and eating well, etc., then it makes it easier to do so myself. Not just every-other day runs, alternating with cross-training days, but in nutritional choices. As I've written on the blog, I've been following the spirit of the diet prescriptions detailed in The Runner's Body http://bit.ly/MbZ8QR. I've also been enjoying higher energy levels, better sleeping, and most amazingly to me, an end to cravings for food and drink that do not fuel the runner's body: ie, trans-fat loaded potato chips, Diet Cokes, and more than one or two glasses of wine at night.
All of which, of course, helps me stay on course in my effort to keep healthy habits. If I'm surrounded by people jogging and eating well, etc., then it makes it easier to do so myself. Not just every-other day runs, alternating with cross-training days, but in nutritional choices. As I've written on the blog, I've been following the spirit of the diet prescriptions detailed in The Runner's Body http://bit.ly/MbZ8QR. I've also been enjoying higher energy levels, better sleeping, and most amazingly to me, an end to cravings for food and drink that do not fuel the runner's body: ie, trans-fat loaded potato chips, Diet Cokes, and more than one or two glasses of wine at night.
Running for Your Life: Thurber Gets It Going
We can take Thurber to early morning off-leash hours in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, and despite the high level of play and doggie chaos, he will come to us when we call him.
Thurber! Come! And he comes.
At 8:30 a.m. on Mother’s Day, M and I sat on a grassy knoll and watched as Thoroughbred Thurb raced across the Long Meadow, his nose clipping the ground. For the first time since T arrived on the First Street scene in September 2010, M and I were relaxed in public with him, sipping our coffee, just watching him run.
K, at home from LA, was sleeping in her childhood room.
Later, over overpriced overdone Eggs Benedict, K’s eyes lit up with the story of it. That Thurber is finally – after many months of fits and starts – free to run. He is starting to put his fear at bay, thanks to Tyril and the e-collar http://bit.ly/KQaiel. (See Running for Your Life: Thurber Sketch)
Following Thurb’s park-perfect run in the Long Meadow, he actually walked along with us throughout the park.
Come! Thurb! And he comes.
With Tyril’s help, M, K and I have got to the point where our pup – two years old next month – hardly needs to be e-collar paged, nicked or constant-ed. He is simply with us, with the promise of many years like this: the beautiful redbone coonhound scampering at our side, giving pleasure and comfort to us all.
Next: Running for Your Life: Healthy Habits
Thurber! Come! And he comes.
At 8:30 a.m. on Mother’s Day, M and I sat on a grassy knoll and watched as Thoroughbred Thurb raced across the Long Meadow, his nose clipping the ground. For the first time since T arrived on the First Street scene in September 2010, M and I were relaxed in public with him, sipping our coffee, just watching him run.
K, at home from LA, was sleeping in her childhood room.
Later, over overpriced overdone Eggs Benedict, K’s eyes lit up with the story of it. That Thurber is finally – after many months of fits and starts – free to run. He is starting to put his fear at bay, thanks to Tyril and the e-collar http://bit.ly/KQaiel. (See Running for Your Life: Thurber Sketch)
Following Thurb’s park-perfect run in the Long Meadow, he actually walked along with us throughout the park.
Come! Thurb! And he comes.
With Tyril’s help, M, K and I have got to the point where our pup – two years old next month – hardly needs to be e-collar paged, nicked or constant-ed. He is simply with us, with the promise of many years like this: the beautiful redbone coonhound scampering at our side, giving pleasure and comfort to us all.
Next: Running for Your Life: Healthy Habits
Running for Your Life: May Beckons
Road notes after a seven-miler:
POPLAR lookalike leaves on street trees, 36th Street up-slope from Fifth Avenue, not many, past the entrance to the Jackie Gleason bus and train depot, and along to where the road levels, a wink at Lady Liberty before the stretch you’ve earned – all downhill to Fort Hamilton Parkway, the poplars give way to .¤.¤.
LINDENS, 90-odd of them and on this misty day (May 2) I imagine I’m back in Belgium, where running tree-lined roads in the rain yields a meditative calm, the illusion that on those grounds my distant forefathers rode on mercenary quests, or as farmers, dug in the earth, a fertile past and its personal contours .¤.¤.
NOT so in Brooklyn, the country lindens in the city only a simulacrum, as in the Green-Wood Cemetery, at one time the second-most visited public destination in New York state behind only Niagara Falls, but now .¤.¤.
POPLAR lookalike leaves on street trees, 36th Street up-slope from Fifth Avenue, not many, past the entrance to the Jackie Gleason bus and train depot, and along to where the road levels, a wink at Lady Liberty before the stretch you’ve earned – all downhill to Fort Hamilton Parkway, the poplars give way to .¤.¤.
LINDENS, 90-odd of them and on this misty day (May 2) I imagine I’m back in Belgium, where running tree-lined roads in the rain yields a meditative calm, the illusion that on those grounds my distant forefathers rode on mercenary quests, or as farmers, dug in the earth, a fertile past and its personal contours .¤.¤.
NOT so in Brooklyn, the country lindens in the city only a simulacrum, as in the Green-Wood Cemetery, at one time the second-most visited public destination in New York state behind only Niagara Falls, but now .¤.¤.
Running for Your Life: Thurber Sketch
It’s May and I’m back to running Thurb, our impassioned manic mutt, Old UnReliable (That’s him at right), for the past six days, he’s been in “school” with the redoubtable Tyril, the dog whisperer of Brooklyn http://bit.ly/JcOKY4.
We’ve tried everything, of course, well everything but Tyril and the e-collar, but now that's what we're doing: paging, nicks and constants – not shocks, you understand, but carefully chosen mood adjusters, with an agreed-upon outcome that will satisfy not only M and me but Thurb and Tyril. Because if Thurb is going to be our dog then he has to be a pet we can manage, not one that we walk with trepidation, eyes in the back of our head, anxious in such a way that Thurb picks up on it, because dogs, especially finely bred hounds (or so says our pal, Tyril) like Thurb sense everything, don’t they? Body smells of anxiety and fears, such that only ramps up Old UnReliable’s own innate fear, because on the first day of school Tyril diagnosed that that was what was setting him off: fear. Not feeling secure in his body when confronted by anyone or anything that stirs his poor anxious soul. (And even in his own home, or in our bedroom, you know when he gets that look, it can only be a second and then .¤.¤. Watch out !!)
Running for Your Life: After Boston
My pal and original thinker Mike Tully http://bit.ly/hRtDDq has a thought about why it is that the older you get the faster time seems to go by. Coach Tully, who has made a close study of sports psychology (and is a high-demand public speaker on coaching, with an emphasis on athletic improvement), believes it may have something to do with the brain’s RAS, or reticular activating system.
As we age and get even more set in our ways (as most us do), our evolved RAS kicks in and our daily stimuli becomes so familiar that time appears to pass more quickly than it did when we were younger. (It is why, CT says, the drive home from an unfamiliar destination always seems noticeably shorter than the journey over foreign territory to get there. When you return, the course is known – it lacks surprise – and thus the time feels more compressed, even though it is virtually the same in physical length.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)