Crunchy ‘Nanas

Last night I made a pact. A pact sealed in Google Talk virtual blood. An agreement that can’t be broken. Or, at least not until I go in and delete the chat text evidence. Hmmm…but, I would never do that. Besides, even if I delete mine, the other bond-ee still has a copy. We share a lot, but passwords aren’t among the goods.

The basis of the pact is simple. We are, among many other things, virtual exercise buddies. Virtual because our dancing hearts and sweating limbs are separated by over 5,000 miles of ocean, mountains, desert and plains. But, it’s more of a check in and support each other agreement. Neither of us has the will, nor the desire, nor the fancy wireless equipment to keep each other company via PDAs during exercise hour. Besides the absurdness of using communications equipment while exercising (yes, I’ve seen it done, silly people), I can’t imagine trying to agree an exercise hour across California and England time zones. (Hey buddy, it’s 1:30 in the morning your time. Get on the elliptical machine with me, okay?)

I told my buddy that I would run 3 miles today. I ran 2. So only a slight change of plans. (Drum roll for excuses, please.) I woke up and it was so foggy that I opted for the safe route, the route that doesn’t have me running on any roads without sidewalks. That route happens to be my “Minster shortie”. 2 miles. So that’s what I did. If it makes up for it, I came home and did some extensive yoga poses. Like savasana, balasana and virasana. Don’t scoff. While maybe not the most physically demanding (though they are harder than they look!), trying living in my mind. And then try quieting it. (What am I going to blog about today that doesn’t have the word Ozomatli in it?….No, find your quiet….Man, dad’s doing the dishes before I had a chance to get in there…think of your mantra, tree, tree, tree….I hope traffic’s not bad tonight, must print out directions….concentrate….I wonder how close I’ll get to the front tonight….QUIET!) Now that’s a work out.

But, don’t worry there’s more to come. The dancing shoes (which happen to be old running shoes in my case because I’m classy like that) are packed and ready to hit the floor and boogie in London. I better eat lots of bananas today. It’s gonna be a wild night!

Today’s run

Distance: 2 miles
Time: 17:59
Pace: 8:59 min/mile

Ozomatli’s “Don’t Mess with the Dragon” is brilliant. It makes you shake it and want to take action toward a better world in true Ozo fashion. It does not disappoint. Except in the moments when you wonder if they have stayed true to themselves, or if they could have sacrificed a bit of their inner fire in attempt to (finally!) break into the mainstream. If they have done, I can’t blame them. I don’t understand the mechanics of the airwaves. Lily Allen and James Blunt get played so many times you want to rip out your car radio and toss it out the window while crossing the Thames. Yet, a group that makes awesome, innovative sound and has inspiring things to say rarely gets airplay. Though, I wonder if this could have more to do with their politics than their music. Which is another sad commentary on the world.

The hype around this album seems to be its cohesiveness, its flow. I agree, it’s smooth. But better? No. I’m with the 372 people on the website poll so far who say they love it, but don’t choose it as the best album they’ve ever done. Call me crazy, but part of Ozo’s charm is hip-hop one minute, cumbia the next. Ah hell, let’s slip in some string orchestration. Mix in your middle Eastern tones with your salsa groove to rock out. For me, this works. I like their diversity. I LIKE that you can’t assign them neatly to a musical genre. They are bigger than that proverbial box.

But, I guess in the real world, that doesn’t make for radio play. (Which is a shame, what’s wrong with people?) I hope this album gets them the recognition they’ve worked so hard the last twelve years to earn. But, even if it doesn’t, they’ll still have their loyal fans. We know it just ain’t a party with no O-Z-Os!

I hate to admit it, but I think I may be becoming Brit-ified by the minute. Tonight, I will be preparing my first cottage pie. Against my nature and common sense, I catch myself using the term “car park”, despite the fact that I’ve yet to see a swing or a slide in any parking lot. And even though I’ve got my driving test out of the way, I continue to use my handbrake for activities other than simply parking and to “push and pull” the steering wheel to turn the car.

What is the world coming to?

Yay! The half marathon went really well, better than I expected.

On Sunday morning, down at the Bournemouth pier, the sea was grayish-green. The sky was fairly gray too. It was a bit windy. But, it wasn’t raining. For that I am thankful!

At ten am sharp, I stood with the other 2 hour to 2:15-ers, anxiously waiting to cross the start line, letting the fast ones go racing off westward, along the Bournemouth seafront. When I saw the line of runners in front of me bend right, I knew what was coming. There’s not much distance between the seafront and the cliffs so I knew I’d be facing a hill soon. It wasn’t terrible, and it was good to get it over with.

The route took us up into the cliff road, and into a nicely wooded area. I don’t know Bournemouth at all, so finding myself running along a path through woods was a pleasant surprise. It reminded me of the Woodside run I did years ago.

Then we got to what I was to discover to be the most tedious part of the run, the stretch along the promenade. I thought running by the sea would be refreshing, motivating. I like to be by the ocean. I like to watch the waves and feel the cool air on my face. It makes my heart smile and my limbs breathe alive. But, once I passed Boscombe pier and continued eastward, I was ready for some variation in the route. That came at around mile 8.

By mile 9, my body was starting to feel my pace. My knee started to protest, which it had not done before on training runs. I slackened a bit. Still four miles to go. Or, I should admit I slowed down until it didn’t hurt anymore. Then, I picked up the pace again for the final push, except going down hill back to the seafront. I kept picturing myself falling on my face with only a mile to go. Not a great image, so I took care!

By the time I got back to the seafront, I was fairly sure I was within time to bust it in under two hours. I started psyching myself out for the big sprint finish. By 600 meters, I was balancing pushing myself with holding back the heaves in my throat. So, I am happy to have finished without actually vomiting. And to have finished five minutes faster than my target. Piece of cake!

It’s an amazing thing, going out and pushing your boundaries with others for a common cause. Thanks to the kind generosity of my supporters, I earned over £400 for the British Heart Foundation. For this, above all else, I am the most grateful.

Thank you!

Bournemouth Bay half marathon, 1st April 2007

Distance: 13.1 miles
Time: 2:00:27 (chip time); 2:01:24 (gun time)
Pace: 9:11 min/mile (average based on chip time)

On your marks, get set!

Finished!!

A couple of Crunchy ‘Nanas supporters

Me and my good luck charm after the race