The Winter of Our Discontent

There's something nice about having a short attention span, multiple interests and a supreme dislike of commercials when it comes to television programming. Well, at least now in the age of on-screen information and remote control. I can always hop about from program to program when a commercial comes on. The only time I even want to watch a commercial (especially during a football game, when half of the time-outs are commercial-driven) is during the Super Bowl. Heck, during some years the commercials are more exciting than the game.

I'm back on a treadmill for a couple of miles a day at a pace that stays aerobic for as long as possible; right now it seems to be working pretty well. I'm not concerned about my own fitness or the long, slow run-up to full-speed running, yada, yada...it will come back in good time...and I'm vigorously swimming and bicycling four-to-six times a week at this time. You can't rush the recovery process, and you probably shouldn't if you aren't making a living from running; if you are making a living from running you probably have access to all of the help and all the time you need to recover as quickly as possible. The rest of us working class mortals will just have to listen to our bodies and err on the side of caution.

But, while I was in the Y working out on the treadmill and the elliptical trainer the first reports came on about the untimely death of the Australian actor Heath Ledger. Once again, all I could think about was what I like to call spiritual vampirism, the tendency of the broadcast media (formerly restricted to radio and television, but in the internet age you can include print) to lurk about, searching for some more blood to suck up. It's bad enough to hear about B. Spears, P. Hilton, L. Lohan, et. al., incessantly, but you have to feel for the family of a notable person who suddenly dies, especially when the circumstances are sketchy. Hey guys, let's leave the situation the heck alone and go find something worthwhile to do, like send care packages to the Rockefellers...

We're having fun this time of year. The climate hasn't figure out what it wants to do; be bone-chilling cold, have uber-blonde (sorry, honey, please don't take this personal...) dense fog, dump boatloads of rain, blow 20-30 mile-per-hour gusts, etc., etc. It makes the thought of training indoors sound very, very good. Sure, I sound like a wimp, but when you're trying to get 60 minutes of consistent effort in it's always more fun to get it inside an enclosed, slightly heated pool or a gymnasium rather than take your chances with traffic and persons who have no clue on how to drive in conditions that are not perfect, dry and sunny.
The only thing I hate is that when it sucks outside I want to be out there...or I've got something that needs to be done out there.