You know how everyone talks about "the true meaning of Christmas," and how it's been lost (or at least muted) by all the materialistic fuss? Well, what about "the true meaning of Thanksgiving"? For me, it's been lost in a turkey-scented haze of endless football games and overeating.
This appalls me more than anything because Thanksgiving is, by and large, an American holiday. (oh, and Canadian too, eh?) Most Europeans read about Thanksigiving or hear about it and sort of don't get it. I tried to explain it to my boyfriend (who is Dutch) last year, and I'm not really sure I explained it very well. Yes, the pilgrims came over in that big old ship, made nice with some Native Americans, thanked their lucky stars (and God) that they made it across that long ocean and survived a harsh deadly winter, and had a great big feast of sharing and gratefulness and most importantly, cornucopias. And somewhere in the mix was a guy named Squanto, right?
My explanation might not be great, but this is what most of us learned when were kids. We made the handprint turkeys in our little arts and crafts classes, we dressed up as pilgrims with shiny shoe buckles and as Native Americans with fake feather headresses, and we stereotyped the hell out of Thanksgiving.
It's no wonder, then, that our Thanksgiving holiday causes many foreigners to scratch their heads in puzzlement. More than a couple of times on my travels, I've heard jokes from Europeans, Aussies, and others that Thanksgiving is just what Americans need -- more of an excuse to make ourselves even fatter than we already are, and to sit on those fat asses while we log in hours of a mindless stop-and-go sport that the rest of the world thinks is immeasurably stupid compared to the real football.
So what is it about Thanksgiving that really is redeeming?
Personally, I think it's all about family and togetherness. Maybe we don't pay much attention to each other when the parade or the football games are on, but we do pay attention to each other when we're sitting at the same table. (And all too often, American families don't sit down to the dinner table anymore.)
I think this is important because you need to be reminded about the people who made so many sacrifices to bring you into this world and raise you (if it's your parents), and to be reminded about the people whom you have made so many sacrifices for (if it's your children, whose own personalities may occassionally get lost in an endless sea of soccer practices and ballet recitals and Nintendo Wiis). So to me, that's what Thanksgiving is for.
I read an interesting article about debunking the myths of the first Thanksgiving. The most interesting to me was that many Native Americans may not consider Thanksgiving to be a very happy time at all. Only one generation after the English settlers sat down to "the first Thanksgiving" with the Native Americans, they were at war with each other. In 1637 English settlers killed 700 Pequot men, burning many of them alive in their homes. So much for breaking bread together and making peace and all that.
It's sad, yes. But that's how this world is. The terrorist attacks in Mumbai, the restlessness in Thailand, the plane crashes and car crashes that have all been going on today -- it all attests to the fact that this world slows down and makes peace for no one. Even at the Olympics, a traditional time of international peace, there was the Georgia conflict and who-knows-what-all going on in Kenya and the Sudan. So I think the important thing to take away from Thanksgiving is: we may not all be at peace, and everything might not be perfect, but let's take a moment to be grateful for what we do have. I'm grateful I have my boyfriend alive and fighting his cancer. I'm grateful I have my parents, who have sacrificed so much for me and have always been there when my life has gone rough.
To me, those are the things that Thanksgiving are all about.
Just thought I'd share.
OK, OK, I'm 25 years old, so I don't *really* get grounded anymore.
Usually.
No, this time I'm talking about being grounded by my injuries. Definite Achilles tendonitis in my right leg, and probable Achilles tendonitis in my left leg, and the start of runner's knee in my left leg. I haven't been to a sports doc yet, but those are what the symptoms are screaming. I've done some light jogging a few times over the past few weeks, but the pain never goes away.
So I moped around about it for awhile. I hate having the will and the heart to do something when I'm injured. If I'm injured, why can't I be unmotivated too, and go back to my couch-potato-y ways? I don't know why, but I can't be lazy again. I just can't.
So I went out and bought a bike. OK, nothing fancy kids, just a cheap-o bike from the local Wally world. As long as I pedal with my heel, it shouldn't bother my Achilles tendons too much, and that way I can keep in half-ass shape while I wait for my running days to come again.
This purchase also has me inspired about a possible triathlon in the coming years. Biking and running, check. Swimming? Well, I'm no Michael Phelps, but I can try. (Did anyone see him on the cover of GQ this month? They tried to make him look like quite gangsta. I'm sorry, but Michael Phelps ain't no brutha, ain't no way, no how.) Anyway, yeah, the swimming would be a problem, but in the meantime I'm just going to try to bike a little every day and wait for my tendons and knee to calm down. Let me dream, anyway!
So long, 5K in December....Maybe I can walk it, but even that might not be great for my tendons.
In the meantime, if you see that crazy girl on the cheap purple bike crashing incessantly into sidewalk stop signs and telephone poles in the greater Dallas area.....do me a favor and politely put that snide smile elsewhere.
On Monday I ran 2 miles and walked about 1.5, but my left Achilles tendon was giving me a lot of trouble afterward. I iced it down but that just seemed to intensify the pain, so I knew it wasn't just a little problem. It definitely hurts to walk on. While I think it's just a strain and nothing TOO drastically serious, I'm not going to run on it for a week. This will set me back a lot in the 5K preparations, but I'm not going to mess around with potential injuries. The worst thing you can do if you're starting out running (like me) is to push yourself too far, too fast and end up with an injury. I'm trying to avoid that at all costs. So I'll probably walk the 5K route again this Sunday and try running a mile or so on Monday and see how I feel. In the meantime, I'm icing it every night and taking it easy. If I miss the 5K in December because of this, then so be it. The important thing is to not get injured.
So nothing really new to report to day, although I am including a photo of the beautiful sunset we had here in DFW tonight. A cold front is moving in and I for one am excited. I like the cold....I like fires in the fireplace, wearing hoodies and gloves, ice days so the office is closed down....
Monday, November 10, 2008
Ran: 1.4 miles
Walked: 0 miles
We had a threat of severe weather this evening, so I didn't have time to do much but a quick two loops around the lake at Bob Woodruff Park before the lightning and rain chased me away.
"Severe weather" may sound a little goofy to people not from this area, but anyone who's been around tornado country knows it's not something you want to mess with. The weather wasn't expected to hit the eastern parts of DFW until around 7 or 8 pm, but man, by 4pm the office had cleared out. No one wants to be stuck on the highway in driving rain, hail, high wind, and possible tornadoes. I completed my run by around 7 and settled in for a long night of lightning and crazy rain. I wasn't pleased with my run -- my ankles and knees are starting to hurt and I think I need to do a much better job of stretching and getting my joints ready before I go for a run, even a little one.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Ran: 0 miles
Walked: 3.2 miles
After last night's workout, I felt the need to take it a little easy, especially since my joints are bothering me. So I drove to the site of the 5K I will be running in December, and I just walked the whole thing. It was a pleasant walk, mostly residential, through a neighborhood that's well known for crazy Christmas decorations. (Last year we saw that they had themed lights set to music and everything. This neighborhood is nutso -- it goes ALL OUT for Christmas.) And I shouldn't have been shocked, but I was, because three houses already had their Christmas lights up! And one house had their Christmas tree all ready to go in the window!
Come on people! Christmas isn't some season that's meant to stretch on for 2+ months. I mean, we just had Halloween. What happened to the Christmas season starting with Santa's arrival at the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade? Has the Christmas season been extended simply for marketing and materialistic purposes (as a lot of people think)? Or have people themselves chosen to extend Christmas in their own homes because they've had enough of all the depressing news, the bad economy, and so on? If 10 months out of the year are crap, then let's have 2 months' worth of joyous holiday fun? Is that the rationale?
I just think it's weird. For me, Christmas should be a special time, distinctly marked out of the calendar year, something that kids remember as a special couple of days. If you drag it out for two months, I feel like it loses some of its positive impact. Not to mention, poor Thanksgiving gets lost in the shuffle.
Just my $0.02.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Ran: 2.1 miles
Walked: 1.7 miles
I admit that I'm not a total beginner at running. I used to run (OK, jog) several times a week, although never for more than a mile or two at a time.
I hate running. I admit it. I have horrific memories of 7th grade athletics, when we were forced to run a mile without stopping by our evil dictactor P.E. coach. Thinking about her even now gives me the shivers.
Back then, I was a ballet dancer, and had been since I was four years old. I had muscles of steel, yes, but they were the slim muscles designed for the graceful strength and beauty of ballet -- not the calves-in-your-face Rambo muscles of distance runners. I played soccer and basketball, too, like most every red-blooded American kid. But I never ran for an extended period of time without stopping. For me, making four loops around that quarter of a mile track signified the purest, most evil form of torture known to mankind.
It was especially hard for me since not only am I a wuss, but I'm a vertically challenged wuss. I'm five foot two and have always been short for my age. Back then everyone was taller and had longer legs. Their strides were long and graceful, like a Thoroughbred. They were the Thoroughbreds on the track, and I was the clunky donkey.
Yeah. Bad memories.
BUT the important thing is I did it. Three times a week for a year, I did it. And in my early twenties I did it too, and I grew to enjoy running...at least sometimes. But I never became a runner in the way that I always dreamed of.
No more, my friends, no more. I am determined to become that runner and I have a worthy cause that's motivating me. So I'm not going to be the donkey anymore. I'm going to graduate from ass to Thoroughbred....or at least from ass to no ass. (Seriously, my behind needs some work with all this weight I've gained.)
I've registered for a 5K on December 13. That's about a month away and is equivalent to around three miles. YIKES!! I have my work cut out for me.
So, some progress.
Last night I drove over to the Bob Woodruff park for a change from the track. I jogged around the lake three times. That came to the equivalent of 2.1 miles. Wow! I was really surprised. I also walked twice around the lake (once before my jog and once after). It was dark, but I liked the way the jogging trail lights reflected on the lake. I had a few partners in crime: a couple of solo joggers, a loud family taking a stroll, a couple bajillion ducks, and one crane-like bird who stared at me with a mix of curiosity and almost disdain, and with a fish hanging out of his mouth. Look, I know I'm not exactly the slimmest, trimmest, most athletic jogger, but at least I don't have a silly fish hanging out of my mouth, you stupid bird.
Geez. Everyone's a critic.
Anyway, I'm proud of my 2.1 miles, and if I keep this up, I think my 5K isn't going to be as stressful as I initially thought. However......distance-wise I'm doing good, but speed-wise I think I'm pretty awful. One of these days I'm going to buy one of those gadgets that tells me how much of a slowpoke I am, per mile.
Till next time...
Introduction
Jess Runs Away: A Couch Potato on the Run
It's pretty lame, but it's true. I'm a giant couch potato. I don't really know what's happened to me lately. The past six months I've gained almost 20 pounds and I'm exhausted all the time. I have no energy for anything.
A couple of years ago I was in good shape, running four or five times a week, hiking, walking, biking. Now I'm a couch potato (baked, mashed, however you like it), stuck on the couch and watching too many episodes of The Hills on MTV. (And let me tell you, The Hills has been proven to kill a whole petri dish of brain cells in the blink of an eye, so this is an addiction that MUST STOP.)
Now that I've got that off my chest, I've made an effort the past couple of weeks to haul my ass off the couch and actually go for a run a few times. Let me stop to take a moment and offer my definition of this term:
Go for a run: [goh fawr ə ruhn], verb
1. to get up, go to the local track, and then move at the pace of a lazy jog for longer than 30 seconds
2. to think about getting up, going to the local track, and moving at the pace of a lazy jog for longer than 30 seconds
Based on the second definition, I've gone for a run quite a few times the past two weeks!
Here's the serious goal, though: I want to run in the Dallas Big D Texas half-marathon in April in support of cancer fundraising. My grandmother passed away from leukemia in 2001, and my boyfriend is currently battling Stage III stomach cancer at the age of 22. I recently read an article in Time that at current rates, half of the men and one-third of the women alive on this planet today will be diagnosed with some type of cancer at some point in their lives. Those are scary numbers, especially considering we are battling this disease blindly. Sure, chemotherapy and radiation may work...for some people. But in many cases, the diagnosis comes too late. And in many other cases, chemotherapy and radiation are ineffective against more aggressive cancers.
Cancer is terrifying -- everyone knows that. But somehow in today's politics, cancer research funding takes a backseat to saving our economy, the war in Iraq, campaign financing, and so on. So to me, busting my ass on an endurance run (and having you all laugh hilariously at me) is no big deal if it means I can get even a few dollars donated to cancer research.
Anyway, April may seem like a long way off right now, but it'll probably creep up faster than I would like. I'm writing this blog to document my transition (I hope!) from an overweight couch potato to a distance runner. More importantly, this blog will keep me motivated because if even a few people keep reading it, they'll hold me accountable for being a worthless slacker on those days when The Hills is more alluring than hitting the track.
Stay tuned!