Tone It Down

Mike Greenberg is starting to annoy the living and the deceased shit out of me.

I listen to ESPN radio on my lengthy commute sometimes and sheezuz is he just the worst.

For starters:

He uses “literally” incorrectly and a lot.

For after starters:

He said this morning that “by definition, Myles Garrett, plays run defense.”

Oh really, let us look up run defense real quick in the dictionary here. [flip, flip, flip] Hmm, it should be in here. [flip, flip, scan, flip] Nope, run defense isn’t in the dictionary.

For dessert:

Regarding the layoffs at ESPN yesterday he said: “Everyone who is conscious knows what happened at ESPN yesterday."

Literally, everyone who was conscious knows what happened at ESPN yesterday.

[Fierce eye roll]

No Mike, the vast majority of people, be they conscious, semi-conscious, conscientious, non compos mentis, Mentos-eating, or even Praying Manits do not, repeat, do not, know what happened at ESPN yesterday.

Here’s the thing Mike, even fewer people (please notice the use of “fewer” with a count noun, a grammar tip that could and should be shared with people that get paid to talk into a microphone) give a shit, be it figurative or literal shit, about what happened at ESPN yesterday. 

So Mike, tone the self-importance down a bit. Tone it down a ton actually.

Literally, a ton.

lit·er·al

ˈlidərəl,ˈlitrəl/

adjective

adjective: literal; adjective: literal-minded

1. 
   

taking words in their usual or most basic sense without metaphor or allegory

Running On Empty

So I finished…with a whimper.

Having run many a half-marathons this one was the second most difficult with my first being the most.

Why?

One reason is understandable: All of my training was on a treadmill so about mile 10, I really began to feel sore in my legs.

But, there’s always a but, sometimes there’s even a but abutting another but, but I digress, the second reason is mysterious.

The morning’s chain of events had me on a school bus headed to the starting line around 7am, and after arriving at the starting line, was able to empty my bladder well before the start time of 8am for the half.

Did not drink a drop. Scout’s honor.

Feel great, pace is under an 8 (good for me) and I’m relaxed.

Around mile 5 I have to, you know, urinate. Never before have I had to do this for a half.

Stop at the port-o-let at mile 5 aid station and, of course, someone is in there.

Not waiting, keep going.

Mistake, me thinks. Next port-o-let at mile 7, about 17 minutes later.

But at least its empty…and after about two minutes my bladder is finally empty.

So I lost two minutes using the restroom but the real bummer is that for some reason, after this I could never straighten up. Just felt a side stitch for the remaining 6 miles every time I tried to run tall or elongate my stride. Bummer.

Then of course the treadmill training really reared its ugly head around mile 10 and the pain caused my pace to drop way…way down. Below sea level down.

But the wife and kids were right before the finish so I perked up a little but as you can see, 

the back half was brutal.

At one point, this always happens, I thought they forgot a mile marker. This one was the mile 11 marker… “where the hell is it?”

Crossed the finish line and hobbled to a tent for water and bananas but didn’t even stick around for 2 free beers so you know there was some pain involved.

All in all clocked in at 1:51:05 for a pace of 8:29 and may even do another one in the fall.

Maybe.

Half-Marathon

I am supposed to run a half-marathon on Saturday.

I paid to run a half-marathon on Saturday.

I trained to run a half-marathon on Saturday.

It will be my first half-marathon since my eldest was born [gulp] 2011.

Have I trained enough?

Probably not.

And not one single mile of training was on a road. My parenting and career responsibilities requires me to train on a treadmill. I don’t like to run in the dark so this means the YMCA treadmill at 5m on weekdays. On the weekends I take the tots to the YMCA where they can play in the family center but this means I cannot leave the facility…so all long runs have been on [gulp] a treadmill.

They call it pounding the pavement for a reason. 

I am nervous. Or am I anxious? Am I scared, frightened, worried, upset, beguiled or just all out of whack? I am never all out of whack as I keep a little bit in the downstairs bathroom in case of an emergency.

Was thinking it would be nice to have my tots see me finish but Ima (totally a word) little scared I will look like a mess of skin and bones hobbling over the finish line due to under-training. My long run was 12 which is legit (thanks Hammer!) but my weekly mileage isn’t quite up to snuff and again, treadmill miles are a different animal. Which gets me thinking, how is Different Animal not a band name?

Anyhoo, Imascaret!

But there is beer at the finish line so…

Rite of Way to Bliss or At Least, Euphoria

I’m finishing up The Power of Myth after some stylistics excursions and as a result, am reminded of the power of rite. Campbell talks about ritual but nothing like Emile Durkheim in The Elementary Forms of Religious Life.

Am I ritual-less? Nah, probably not, but which rituals are the correct rituals?

“It is subjective” you say.

“Indeed” I harrumph sarcastically.

“Look,” you say, “if you don’t like the subjectivity of rituals, maybe you don’t like rituals…or subjectivity.” Then you motion for the door curtly, as if to imply my being thrown through out of it at a high rate of speed.

“I get it,” I’d say. Fully aware of my subjunctive tense. “You say subjective and maybe you even mean subjective, but you, yes you, reek of objective. Absolutely malodorous with it.” Then I would pinch my fingers around my nose to indicate the universal sign for sewage treatment pond, you know the one, then I would probably look you square in the eye (your good one) and wink as if to imply my own objectivity in a roundabout way, if you are picking up what I’m putting down.

Then you’d say you are tired of me and I would say some things I don’t mean.

Moving on…to

A peak experience is a moment accompanied by a euphoric mental state often achieved by self-actualizing individuals.^[1] The concept was originally developed by Abraham Maslow in 1964, who describes peak experiences as "rare, exciting, oceanic, deeply moving, exhilarating, elevating experiences that generate an advanced form of perceiving reality, and are even mystic and magical in their effect upon the experimenter."^[2][3] There are several unique characteristics of a peak experience, but each element is perceived together in a holistic manner that creates the moment of reaching one’s full potential.^[4] Peak experiences can range from simple activities to intense events;^[5][6] however, it is not necessarily about what the activity is, but the ecstatic, blissful feeling that is being experienced during it.^[7]

Campbell said that he had a peak experience running a race during his time at Columbia, where he was 30 yards back but knew (objectively? See what I did there) that he was going to win.

I am trying to think of a peak experience of my own. It is that last part of the paragraph that is throwing me, the “blissful feeling…during…”

I intercepted a jump pass in pee wee football once but was nothing like blissful during the experience but I did know (yes, objectively) just from the nanosecond look of the quarterback, that he was going to try to hit the tight end.

I had one night with a band at a bar that at the time was named O’Hooley’s where I could not make a mistake, felt like I could play anything I wanted to without fear of mistake, with complete (for me, anyway, subjectivity rears its ugly head) facility.

But did I feel blissful?

Have I ever felt blissful?

I think I need examples.

I’ve felt euphoric but I just don’t know about blissful.

Am I splitting hairs?

Can one be blissful splitting hairs?

Not An Image Problem, An Imagination Problem

In this post I was sarcastic in regards to objective truth. Please know that objective truth is different from an ethic. An ethic, by definition, admits of relativism. Stinks of it, just like my gym bag. But I digress.

Here is a snip from Metaphors We Live By:

Interpersonal Communication and Mutual Understanding

When people who are talking don't share the same culture, knowledge, values, and assumptions, mutual understanding can be especially difficult. Such understanding is possible through the negotiation of meaning. To negotiate meaning with someone, you have to become aware of and respect both the differences in your backgrounds and when these differences are important. You need enough diversity of cultural and personal experience to be aware that divergent world views exist and what they might he like. You also need patience, a certain flexibility in world view, and a generous tolerance for mistakes, as well as a talent for finding the right metaphor to communicate the relevant parts of un-shared experiences or to highlight the shared experiences while de-emphasizing the others.

Metaphorical imagination is a crucial skill in creating rapport and in communicating the nature of unshared experience. This skill consists, in large measure, of the ability to bend your world view and adjust the way you categorize your experience. Problems of mutual understanding are not exotic; they arise in all ex-tended conversations where understanding is important.

When it really counts, meaning is almost never communicated according to the CONDUIT metaphor, that is, where one person transmits a fixed, clear proposition to another by means of expressions in a common language, where both parties have all the relevant common knowledge, assumptions, values, etc. When the chips are down, meaning is negotiated: you slowly figure out what you have in common, what it is safe to talk about, how you can communicate un-shared experience or create a shared vision. With enough flexibility in bending your world view and with luck and skill and charity, you may achieve some mutual understanding.

Communication theories based on the CONDUIT metaphor turn from the pathetic to the

evil when they are applied in-discriminately on a large scale, say, in government surveillance or computerized files. There, what is most crucial for real understanding is almost never included, and it is assumed that the words in the file have meaning in themselves —disembodied, objective, understandable meaning. When a society lives by the CONDUIT metaphor on a large scale, misunderstanding, persecution, and much worse are the likely products.

Following up on my Ben Yagoda readings, especially the one on Style, consider Metaphor again:

“Metaphorical imagination is a crucial skill in creating rapport and in communicating the nature of unshared experience. This skill consists, in large measure, of the ability to bend your world view and adjust the way you categorize your experience.”

Imagination is important, and not just for artists, scientists need it too. Teachers need it too, and let’s not forget parents and children, and men and women and boys and girls and blacks and whites and Latinos and Russians (white & black – with and without vodka) and Germans and athletes and philosophers and pet whisperers and the guy at Lowe’s trying to help you with your electrical outlet problem that occurred when your wife knocked over the space heater.

You don’t have to be Harry Connick Jr. to know that with imagination, we’ll get there.